Chapters (36)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgements
- 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
They sipped tea and ate toast in silence. I tried to get down my own tea and toast although every crunch of toast sounded like cymbals going off in my head. I was just wondering when Belinda might be home and how much better it would be to sleep on her uncomfortable modern sofa when the doorbell rang.
“Who can that be at this hour?” Fig said, staring at me as if she thought it was my next lover come to call. “Georgiana had better go. It wouldn’t be seemly for you or I to be seen answering our own front door. Word does get around so quickly.”
I went, as curious as she was to know who was at the door. I was half hoping it would be Darcy, coming to rescue me, although I suspected he wasn’t the sort to be up and around before noon. Instead, the first thing I noticed was a Daimler motorcar parked outside and a young man in chauffeur’s uniform standing outside the door.
“I have come for Lady Georgiana,” he said, not guessing for a moment that I was anything other than a servant. “From the palace.”
That’s when I noticed the royal standard the Daimler was flying. Oh, golly. Thursday. Luncheon with the queen. With my brain pickled with alcohol I had completely forgotten.
“I’ll inform her,” I muttered. I closed the front door and was about to rush up the stairs in flat panic when Fig’s head emerged from the top of the kitchen stairs.
“Who was it?” she asked.
“The queen’s chauffeur,” I said. “I’m supposed to go to the palace for luncheon today.” I implied that luncheon with Her Majesty was a normal occurrence for me. It always annoyed the heck out of Fig that I was related to the royals and she was only a by-marriage. “I’d better go up and change, I suppose. I shouldn’t keep her chauffeur waiting.”
“Luncheon at the palace?” she demanded, scowling at me. “No wonder you don’t bother to keep any food in the house if you are always dining in high places. Did you hear that, Binky?” Fig called down the stairs. “The queen has sent a car for her. She’s going to lunch at the palace. She’s going to get a decent lunch. You’re the duke. Why aren’t we invited?”
“Probably because the queen wants to talk to Georgiana,” Binky said, “and besides, how would she know we are here?”
Fig was still glaring as if I’d arranged this little tête-à-tête just to spite her. I must say it gave me enormous pleasure.
Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Buckingham Palace
Thursday, November 10