“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?”

“Georgie, listen,” Darcy called out to me as he was led away. “I didn’t do anything.”

He was bundled into the motorcar, the door slammed. The motor reversed, then the car screeched away, spraying gravel. I stood watching, feeling sick and scared. However angry I was with Darcy, I knew he wouldn’t have killed Bobo. What if the police thought he did? What if DCI Pelham was determined to pin this crime on somebody, thus removing any possibility of scandal for the royals?

There was nothing more I could do but go back to the front door.

“Someone trying to break in, was it?” Queenie asked. “Lucky the police arrived then.”

I couldn’t find any words to answer her. I trudged up the stairs, drank my milk and went to bed. Needless to say I didn’t sleep very well. I tossed and turned. I got up and stared out of the window, looking down at that archway I could just make out in the darkness. And when I did doze off it was to frightening dreams of Darcy, wearing a dressing gown, with a noose around his neck saying, “You have to save me, Georgie.”

In the morning there was a buzz going around the apartment that the police had caught an intruder trying to break in.