Malice at the Palace (The Royal Spyness Series Book 9)

 

 

“Me, miss?” she asked as I was already heading for the stairs. “I ain’t going out there for love nor money. And you shouldn’t either. What if you get haunted or possessed?”

 

“You can stand in the doorway and call for help if I yell.”

 

She followed me unwillingly down the stairs. And grabbed my arm as I was about to go out into the darkness. “I don’t think you should go out there. If it’s one of them ghosts, just leave it to mind its own business.”

 

“I have to see for myself, Queenie,” I said. I didn’t add that I was wondering if the ghost was Countess Irmtraut prowling around or snooping. Nobody had any good reason to be in a courtyard that went nowhere at this time of night.

 

It wasn’t until I approached the arch and was swallowed into complete darkness that I began to have second thoughts. It’s all very well to be brave when looking from a lighted window. Going under a dark archway where someone was recently murdered is another matter. I told myself that Bobo’s murder had nothing to do with the palace, but all the same my nerve almost gave out as I peered into the gloom. The gap between the curtains in my own window painted only a small stripe of light across the far side of the courtyard. Not enough to cut through the total blackness ahead of me. I stopped in front of the archway. No, I wasn’t going to venture in there. If a ghost or a person was moving around, it was none of my business.

 

“It was probably only a maid returning from an evening off,” I thought. “Going into the back door of the princess’s apartment.” And I laughed at my own terror.

 

Then without warning I was grabbed from behind, spun around and pushed up against the cold, damp wall of the archway. Before I had time to cry out, cold lips were kissing mine. It only took a second of terror in which my heart stopped beating before I recognized those lips.

 

I struggled, broke free and tried to push him away. “Don’t you dare try to win me over in such an underhanded fashion, Darcy O’Mara.” I could make out his eyes now, glinting at me like a cat’s. “And what do you mean by following me here and then skulking around?”

 

“I followed you because I had to set things straight,” he said. His eyes were flashing dangerously now. “And I was skulking, as you put it, to see if there was a way in without alerting the entire household. I never have got the hang of this place. It’s like a warren. I didn’t want to burst in on one of your aunts by mistake.”

 

“You can’t set things straight,” I said. “It’s over, Darcy. I know our kind of people like to go in for bed-hopping, but not me. I don’t ever want to play that sort of game. I’m not prepared to share you. I’d rather marry Prince Siegfried. At least I know where I’d stand there.”

 

He was still holding me fiercely, his fingers digging into my arms. “Look, Georgie, you knew when you met me that I wasn’t a saint. I’m a healthy, red-blooded male, and as you said, our sort are not prudish. Bed-hopping is a recognized sport. But I don’t know why this is upsetting you so much now.”

 

“You don’t know? You and Bobo Carrington, and I shouldn’t be upset?”

 

“Of course not. It’s all old hat. She meant nothing to me.”

 

“Oh no? You leave your dressing gown behind her door? And that means nothing? That to me indicates more than a spur-of-the-moment fling. What’s more, it indicates an affair that is still going on when you are supposedly engaged to me.”

 

He gave a nervous little laugh. “Oh, so that’s what’s worrying you. You are silly. That was only there because . . .”

 

The sentence was never finished. We hadn’t heard the approach of a motorcar, or we had been so intent on ourselves that we hadn’t paid attention to it, but we were suddenly blinded by headlights shining directly on us.

 

Darcy shielded his eyes. “What the devil?” he asked. He released me and spun around.

 

Men were coming toward us. Policemen.

 

And leading the charge was DCI Pelham. “Well, well. Mr. O’Mara, isn’t it?” He looked pleased with himself. “We’ve finally caught up with you. And you said you had no idea where he was, little lady.”

 

“I’m not a little lady. I am addressed as ‘my lady’ and I tell the truth,” I said. “I didn’t know until tonight.”

 

“What the deuce is this about?” Darcy demanded. “What do you think you’re doing, man?” This to a copper who had now grabbed Darcy’s arm.

 

“It means we’re taking you in for questioning concerning a very serious matter, sir.”

 

“What serious matter?”

 

“Let’s wait until we get to Scotland Yard, sir. Now come quietly. We wouldn’t want to make a fuss outside a royal residence and disturb the occupants, would we?”