Malice at the Palace (The Royal Spyness Series Book 9)
By: Rhys Bowen
ON SUNDAY I had a lazy morning with only a slight twinge of guilt that I was not joining the others at church. I ate only a small breakfast of kippers and poached egg, knowing that the full traditional English Sunday lunch lay ahead of me. The churchgoers returned and we sat over coffee in the morning room until it was time to make our way to Princess Alice’s apartment. The delicious smell of roasting beef wafted toward us as the front door was opened. We arrived at the same time as the major, who was looking absolutely splendid in his dress uniform. The four elderly ladies certainly made a fuss of him as we were led through to a charmingly furnished sitting room.
“I’m so glad you wore your uniform, Major,” Princess Alice said. “I remember seeing you come home the other night when I was going to bed and thinking how distinguished you looked, walking up the path in that uniform. I’m surprised some eligible young woman hasn’t snapped you up by now.”
“Not many young women want to live on a soldier’s pay, Your Highness,” he said with a regretful smile. “I’m a second son. I’m not going to inherit anything.”
“Such a stupid rule,” Princess Louise said. “That concept of ‘winner take all.’ Most old-fashioned. And who wants to inherit a great house these days? It costs a fortune to heat it and to pay servants to run it. I count my blessings daily that I have this small establishment here and not some great drafty stately home. If you young people heed my advice you’ll live in London with Harrods and Fortnum’s on the doorstep.”
Sherry was served, and then we went through to the dining room, overlooking the main entrance. It being Sunday, the place was closed to visitors.
“Thank God there is no tramp, tramp of people going up the stairs today,” Princess Alice said.
Princess Beatrice nodded agreement. “At least your rooms are not beneath them. Some days it sounds like an invading army. My mama would have been horrified. It was her apartment once, you know.” She turned to Marina. “And where shall you be living, my dear? Not still at St. James’s Palace with the Prince of Wales?”
“No, we’ve been given a house on Belgrave Square,” Marina said. “Close to Georgiana’s London home. I’m looking forward to our being neighbors as I’ve never run my own establishment before.”
“Unfortunately it’s not my home any longer. It belongs to my brother and his wife these days and I’m not exactly welcome there,” I said.
“How sad. Families should support one another,” Princess Louise said. “We have each other for company, do we not? And a charming young woman like you, Georgiana. Who would not want you to live with them?”
“My sister-in-law, apparently,” I said as a footman came to serve me with Yorkshire pudding.
It was a splendid meal. The elderly ladies and the major were good company and there was much laughter. The party didn’t break up until four o’clock and we returned to find Irmtraut sitting in solitary state at tea. She was in a grumpy mood and answered Marina in monosyllables.
“We should have a rest before going to Mr. Coward’s,” Marina said. “Will it be formal, do you think?”
“Rather too informal, I should think,” I said. “Mr. Coward’s friends span all levels of society.”
“How exciting.” Marina gave me a pleased smile.
“I shall not be coming,” Irmtraut said. “I do not wish to mingle with bohemians and actors. My parents would not approve.”
“Oh, Traudi, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud,” Marina said.
“I do not look like a stick,” Irmtraut replied. “You are rude.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Marina started to say but Irmtraut had risen to her feet and stalked from the room.
Marina looked at me. “Oh dear. I’m afraid I offended her. I don’t really know why she insisted on coming. She’s not having a good time.”
“She’s annoyed that the queen asked me to be your companion. She feels put out,” I said. “And there was nothing I could do about it because one does not say no to the queen.”
“Of course not.” She covered my hand with hers. “Dear Georgie. I’m so glad you’re here. You must come and stay with us if your sister-in-law doesn’t want you.”
“Thank you.”
As I came out through the door I detected a movement at the top of the stairs. Irmtraut had been standing there, listening to our conversation.
Chapter 30
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 11
Cocktails with Noel Coward. What could be more glamorous?
The motorcar came for us at six and whisked us to the house in Chelsea. We were among the first to arrive but were introduced to Noel’s actress friend Gertrude Lawrence and to a couple of fellow writers and society matron Mrs. Astley-Cooper.
“You’ve come without your bridegroom, I see,” she said and got a warning look from Noel. “Very wise. So many women think that they are only allowed out as an appendage to their spouse once they marry. Make sure you have your own life and your own friends.”
“Who is talking about appendages?” one of the young men asked.
“Naughty, naughty, Hugo, my boy. Respectable young women present,” Noel said, slapping his hand.