Everyone was being very kind. I let them minister to me and noticed how carefully they led me downstairs again.

“Here she is, safe and sound.” Lady Mountjoy sounded relieved. “Come and be presented to His Royal Highness.” She led me over to where my cousin David was standing with Lord Mountjoy and a couple of stiff young men who were obviously HRH’s equerries.

“What-ho, Georgie,” David said before Lady Mountjoy could do any presenting. “Been fighting suits of armor, so I hear.”

“Just an unlucky tumble, sir,” Lady Mountjoy said, before I could answer. “But all is well. A glass of champagne, or would you rather have a cocktail, Georgiana?”

“She needs a brandy after that scare,” Lord Mountjoy said and one was brought to me. I didn’t like to admit that I don’t enjoy brandy and was grateful to have something to sip. Because it was going to take a lot to calm my nerves at the moment. As I was being ministered to upstairs, I picked something from my skirt. It was a piece of strong black thread. I couldn’t think how it got there until it dawned on me that somebody could have strung it across the top of those steps—someone who knew that I would probably be the only person who used them tonight. My attacker was indeed in the house with me.

Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Farlows
Friday, May 6, 1932

I had no time to think, however, as I was led away to meet the women. I spotted Mrs. Simpson instantly. She was dressed in a trouser outfit rather like the one I had modeled so disastrously, and was holding court on the most comfortable sofa, currently giving what sounded like an impression of the Duke of York’s stutter. We were duly introduced.

“I think I’ve seen you somewhere before, haven’t I?” she drawled, eyeing me critically.

“It’s possible,” I said, trying to sound disinterested and remembering all the rude things she had said.

“Let’s see, now. You’re the one whose mother was an ‘actress’ who snagged a duke, right?” She made the word sound as if it were a euphemism for something less reputable.

“She was indeed,” I said. “If you get a chance to meet her, then maybe she could give you some pointers on how to act like a princess.” I smiled sweetly. There was gentle tittering but she looked daggers at me. As I excused myself and walked on I heard her say loudly, “That poor girl, so tall and gawkish still. If she marries at all, she’ll probably have to settle for some brute of a farmer.”