I stood for a while in the fresh breeze blowing off the sea. After the previous day’s rainstorm, the sea was still choppy, and waves hissed and crashed, rattling the pebbles. I found myself scanning the beach to see if I could spot Darcy. If only, I thought, and I reminded myself that Jean-Paul was filling his shoes quite admirably. He had rescued me twice—once from Sir Toby’s clutches and then again, obviously having paid a large amount of bail money to have me released from jail. And he was gorgeous and rich and everything a girl could want—except that he wasn’t Darcy. However much I tried to fool myself, I still cared horribly about Darcy, and thinking of him produced an almost physical hurt in my heart.

But the day was too windy and even the hardy types were not swimming in the sea. I turned away to continue my walk when I heard my name being called, and there, coming toward me, were the two elderly princesses from the night of my modeling disaster. The spry little French princess was walking beside an old-fashioned wicker bath chair in which the large Russian princess sat, being pushed by a formidable woman dressed in black.

“Lady Georgiana. How lovely to see you,” Princess Marie said in English, holding out her dainty hand, clad in a gray silk glove, to me. “I trust you suffered no lasting injury from your tumble the other night?”

“No, thank you. I am fully recovered,” I said. “And I hope that the princess also suffered no ill effects.”

“She did not, I am pleased to say.” She smiled at me, patting my hand now. “So all is well, and we take a nice stroll and enjoy the good weather.”

I didn’t like to ask whether the princess might have come upon a pearl and diamond necklace hidden about her person when she undressed that night. But I did say, “Of course, we’re still frightfully upset about the missing necklace. We can’t imagine who took it.”

“There are clever thieves in the world,” Princess Marie said, while the dour Russian lady nodded in agreement. “Princess Theodora here had her jewels taken from her compartment on a train, when she fled from Russia. The brazen thief climbed in through the open window, removed the jewel case as she slept, then climbed out again.”

Princess Theodora sighed, but still said nothing. I wondered if she spoke English.

“I am sorry to hear about the loss of your jewels,” I said in French.

“Tragic,” she said, sighing again.

“The princess has known much sorrow,” Princess Marie said in a low voice. “We live a simple life in Paris. We do not move in society anymore, so I bring her here to cheer her up.”

From her face it didn’t look as if it was doing much good.