“In a way so am I,” he said. “I’d have looked really silly in tights.” He pulled me down beside him and I snuggled against his cheek. He leaned across and turned out the light. I gave a sigh of contentment. Then he said, “Georgie, would you mind sleeping in the other bed. I have been a saint for too long. And you’re lying against me in thin silk pajamas and I’m only human.”

“I really wouldn’t mind,” I whispered.

“I would,” he said. “We’ve waited this long. You’ve turned me down before because your conscience wouldn’t let you, so I want to make sure that our first time is perfect—right time, right place and no interruptions.”

Almost on cue there was a banging at the front door.

“You see?” Darcy reached to turn on the lamp. “I had a feeling this was not going to be a peaceful night.”

I followed him to the front door, wondering if Mummy had changed her mind about a night with Mr. Chaplin. Instead Claudette stalked in, her hand over her heart and gasping as if she’d been running. “Mon Dieu,” she said. “I never wish to do that again, as long as I live. Nevair!”

“Do what, Claudette?”

“Find myself abandoned in the darkness. Madame says I am to come back ’ere as soon as those swine have finished asking me stupid questions. I leave the house and then I am lost in the fog. I do not know where I am. And something is breathing on me and it is some kind of large animal. I scream and nobody hears. I think I see the light of this cottage but when I get close the light goes out and I am in darkness again. I thought I had breathed my last and was about to be devoured by a lion.”

“Poor Claudette,” Darcy said. “Well, you’re safe now. We’re here. You can go to sleep in peace.”

“Thank the bon Dieu for that,” she said and headed for her door.

“I should warn you that Queenie has returned and is sleeping in the other bed in your room,” I called after her.

“And you told me I could sleep in peace?” She turned back to scowl at us. “She snores worse than a rhinoceros, that one.”

Darcy grinned at me as we went back to my room.

Chapter 26

STILL AT THE CASTLE, OR RATHER IN A QUAINT ENGLISH COTTAGE

SATURDAY, AUGUST 4, 1934

I opened my eyes to the twittering of birds and gray daylight filtering in through lace curtains. Darcy was already up and dressed, sitting on his bed, tying his shoe.

“Good morning,” he said.

“What time is it?” I yawned and attempted to sit up gracefully.

“Still early. I thought I’d get going if the sheriff gives me the nod. I want to reach Scotland Yard during their working day if I’m to get answers quickly.”