Chapters (40)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Historical Note
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My heart was racing. “But I don’t know Sir Toby. How am I supposed to gain access to his villa?”
You can tell how rattled I was. I had forgotten to add “ma’am.”
“Everyone knows everyone else on the Riviera, so I’m told. You said your family is going there. Well, Sir Toby has a villa in Nice, so I’m sure you’ll all attend the same parties. You’re a pretty young girl and you have royal connections. You’ll be invited everywhere.”
I didn’t say that I thought it unlikely anyone would invite Fig and her unsociable sister, Ducky, unless they were really desperate. I felt a great weight of doom descending on me. For a moment I thought that I’d rather take up the offer of becoming Princess Louise’s companion, but then my sense of adventure took over. It was exciting, after all. Better than serving soup in dreary London. Much better than sitting alone at Castle Rannoch.
I’d go to the Riviera. I’d do my best to carry out the queen’s request, and if I didn’t succeed, then that was too bad. At least I could ascertain whether Sir Toby had the snuffbox or not.
I could sense the queen looking at me. “So can I count on you, Georgiana?”
“I’ll do my best, ma’am.”
She smiled then. “Splendid. You are a good girl, Georgiana. A credit to the family. I can’t understand why you’re not married yet. I had rather hoped that you’d find yourself a husband at Princess Maria Theresa’s wedding. So many eligible young princes there.” When I said nothing she added, “We are expected to do our duty, Georgiana. You need a place of your own in society. It’s not good to be dependent on others.”
“I would like to marry, ma’am. It’s just that nobody suitable has asked me.”
She patted my knee, which was an uncharacteristically familiar gesture for her. “I’m sure it will all work out in the end. And speaking of marriage, there’s one other small task you can carry out for me while you’re on the Riviera. My son David is shirking his duties again and is cruising the Med on a friend’s yacht. I understand that dreadful American woman was seen leaving London the other day on the boat train.”
“Mrs. Simpson, you mean?”
“Mrs. Simpson indeed. And one gathers that her husband was with her. She drags him around for respectability’s sake. The woman has no shame.”
“I suppose we should be glad that she stays married to him. At least she can’t think of marrying the Prince of Wales if she already has a husband.”