“I am not,” said Lady Matheson. “At least, not yet.”

“Ominously put,” said Iris. “Do you expect them to become criminal?”

“I would doubt it highly, but I cannot say to a degree of absolute certainty that they won’t. But if that does turn out to be the case, you have my word that you may then bring that information to the proper authorities.”

“Meaning the CID,” said Iris.

“Meaning the proper authorities,” said Lady Matheson.

“So it may involve matters not involving the CID,” said Iris. “Are we talking about international affairs?”

“At the moment, we aren’t talking about anything, and I won’t subject myself to further interrogation until I have Miss Sparks’s agreement,” said Lady Matheson, a huffy tone creeping into her voice.

Gwen was looking at her carefully.

“This involves the Queen in some way, doesn’t it?” she asked quietly.

“Miss Sparks, do I have your word?” asked Lady Matheson. “I am asking on behalf of Queen and country.”

“I served the King during the war,” said Iris. “I suppose I ought to extend the courtesy to his missus. You have my word, under the condition that the moment things turn sour, it is no longer binding upon me.”

“Done,” said Lady Matheson. “And I anticipate that all of this legal-ish verbiage will turn out be quite unnecessary. Now, to the matter. We would like the two of you to vet someone, much as you did with George Bascombe.”

“That sounds easy enough,” said Gwen.

“Why us?” asked Iris. “Surely you have people at the Palace who can do that sort of thing.”

“This is a matter of particular delicacy,” said Lady Matheson. “We’d rather not have it known internally, given how gossip flies about, nor do we want the subject of the vetting to get wind of it. We don’t want a word of it anywhere near the press. It’s probably nothing, but we need to make sure that it’s nothing and that it stays nothing.”

“The ‘we’ in that sentence?” asked Iris. “Is it the same ‘we’ as in, ‘We were all quite abuzz,’ or a different ‘we’?”

“Myself, one other person working directly under me—and the Queen,” said Lady Matheson.

“Oh, my,” breathed Iris.

“Patience,” said Gwen. “Are you asking us to vet Prince Philip?”

CHAPTER 2

“What do you know about him?” asked Lady Matheson.

“Mostly what’s in the newspapers,” said Gwen. “There was quite a stir after that photo of the two of them gazing adoringly at each other at Lord Brabourne’s wedding.”

“Wasn’t Brabourne in the running for the princess’s hand?” asked Iris.

“I cannot comment on that,” said Lady Matheson. “But yes, things recently seem to have taken a certain momentum towards Philip. Lilibet’s had a crush on him since she was thirteen—”

“Thirteen?” exclaimed Gwen.

“Oh yes, when he was a pretty boy of eighteen,” continued Lady Matheson. “She kept his picture on her mantelpiece throughout the war.”

“Adolescence versus a Royal Naval uniform,” said Gwen. “The poor girl never stood a chance.”