“I must tell the others. They’ll be thrilled.” I made a move toward the door.

Darcy grabbed my arm. “Maybe it might be wise to say nothing at this point.”

“You don’t understand. They’ve been worried sick,” I said. “At least I must tell Vera and Madame Chanel.” I opened the door and stepped out onto the landing. It was unnaturally quiet after the loud noises of the past few hours. I looked around and at that moment Vera walked across the foyer below. Obviously she wasn’t one of those playing naughty games. I ran to the railing and leaned over.

“Vera. Look! It’s been returned. The necklace has come back!” I shouted. I suppose I had been drinking rather too much champagne all evening because I know a lady never raises her voice. The effect was instantaneous. Bedroom doors opened and people in various stages of undress looked out.

I waved the necklace. “It’s come back. It was on my bed.”

Vera’s face lit up. “Thank God,” she said. “It’s a bloody miracle.”

“Yes, isn’t it?”

“How on earth did it get there?” she demanded.

“Someone must have deliberately put it there, knowing I’d find it when I went to bed.” As I said this it did cross my mind that Darcy might somehow have been involved. Had he in fact known about the stolen necklace and managed to recover it for us from the thief? Had he done this for me—as a peace offering? I glanced back at my bedroom, expecting him to come out and reveal himself, but there was no sign of him.

I started to come down the stairs toward the small crowd that was now gathering in the foyer. Halfway down I caught my heel somehow and grabbed at the banister to stop myself from falling. The pearls slid from my hand and fell to the marble floor below. Vera and several others darted forward to grab them. But they were too late. The necklace hit the ground with a light, high, tinkling crash.

“I’m so sorry. Are they all right?” I asked.

Vera was on her knees, staring down at the floor where the largest of the diamonds had shattered into a hundred pieces.

“Oh, no.” I joined her on my knees. “Vera. I’m so awfully sorry. I know I’m clumsy. I’ve ruined it.”

She looked up at me, grim faced. “Diamonds don’t shatter, Georgie.”

“But—” I looked down at the floor then back at her face. “You mean it wasn’t a real diamond?”

She nodded.

“So the queen didn’t lend us her real jewels after all.” Vera looked around the room at the faces now staring down at us. “It appears that the person who stole the necklace has replaced it with a clever fake. If Georgie hadn’t dropped it, we might not have found out for ages, if ever.”