Back Naughty in Nice
Chapters (40)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. Chapter 9
  13. Chapter 10
  14. Chapter 11
  15. Chapter 12
  16. Chapter 13
  17. Chapter 14
  18. Chapter 15
  19. Chapter 16
  20. Chapter 17
  21. Chapter 18
  22. Chapter 19
  23. Chapter 20
  24. Chapter 21
  25. Chapter 22
  26. Chapter 23
  27. Chapter 24
  28. Chapter 25
  29. Chapter 26
  30. Chapter 27
  31. Chapter 28
  32. Chapter 29
  33. Chapter 30
  34. Chapter 31
  35. Chapter 32
  36. Chapter 33
  37. Chapter 34
  38. Chapter 35
  39. Historical Note
  40. Click here for more books by this author

“You’re going to a beach,” I said. “You won’t need toys. Will you find some shells for me?”

He looked bewildered. “Aren’t you going to come with us?”

“I’m afraid not, Podge.” I was going to say that his parents weren’t prepared to pay for me, but that wasn’t quite cricket. “I’m rather busy at the moment,” I finished.

“I want you to come.” He started to cry again as Binky’s voice came from the front door, announcing, “Car’s here.”

“Come along, Podge. Say good-bye to Auntie Georgie,” Fig said impatiently.

I hugged him. He clung to me.

“You see,” Fig said to Binky, who was holding the door open for the constant stream of servants and luggage, “I told you we should have sent him home to Scotland. It’s going to be unsettling for him. He’s probably going to cry all night on the train and upset everyone.”

“Of course he’s not. He’s going to be a big boy, aren’t you, Podge?”

Podge nodded tearfully and took Nanny’s hand as she led him out. I watched with a lump in my throat.

“And Georgiana, we can count on you to make sure the house is properly closed up, can’t we?” Fig turned to ask as she swept to the front door.

“Don’t worry,” I said.

I noticed she didn’t come up to hug me. Binky tried to negotiate the servants and baggage. “’Bye, old thing,” he called to me. “So sorry you can’t come with us. I hope it all works out with the queen this morning.”

And then they were gone.

“Did you want your cup of tea in bed, miss, or are you already up?” Queenie appeared, carrying the tea tray.

“You’re about an hour too late and, as you can see, I’m already up,” I said. “Tell Cook that I’ll have a proper breakfast this morning.”

At least I’d make the most of my last days here by helping to use up their food. Our cook, Mrs. McPherson, has always had a soft spot for me and she sent up a perfect breakfast: bacon, kidneys, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread and two eggs.

I finished the plate with relish then went up to select a suitable outfit for my upcoming visit to the palace. Luckily Queenie had not tried to clean my one good tweed suit yet!