“I assigned Hazel at the bar to your needs,” she said nervously. “Just wave at her. I hope you like, um, passed apps.”

“I loathe everything about them,” Eleanor said, settling into her seat. “Unwashed hands grabbing things off communal plates makes me queasy. Rebecca will fetch me an array.”

“And one drink,” I said. “Maximum. This is not safe.”

“Between your officers and mine, this pub is the safest place in England. You’re welcome.” She placed her purse on the table. “Will you all stop acting as if I am a china figurine? I’m here now, and I mean to enjoy myself. The reception is where the real amusement happens, and the Queen is so rarely invited to this part.” She glared at me. “Sometimes the Queen even has to cancel them.”

“Don’t act like you were the person who had to call the caterers,” I said.

“It was very taxing all around,” Eleanor said serenely.

Nick’s gaze bounced between us as if he were watching a tennis match. It occurred to me that this was this first time he’d ever seen me and Eleanor interact during the Death-Cheating Fun List era. He looked a little surprised.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll go get your refreshments. If you’re sitting here doing nothing, it will make people nervous.”

“Nonsense. Being at a wedding with the Queen is a coup,” she said, folding her hands neatly atop the table. “Tequila on the rocks, light on the rocks, please. Put it on Niles Kensington’s tab.”

“How do you know about Niles Kensington?”

“Underestimating me is always a mistake,” she said.

Nick slid onto the bench at her left, still shaking his head, and I walked over to where my friends stood at the bar and placed the Queen’s order.

“You owe me five quid, Beatrix,” Cilla said.

“More fool you,” Bea said, pulling a crisp note from her clutch. “I’d have taken that bet at five million.”

“Is she in her right mind?” Gemma asked, chewing aimlessly on the plastic stirrer that was meant to go in her vodka tonic. “No offense.”

We all watched as Gaz crossed the pub’s polished wooden floors toward Nick and Eleanor’s table, overcommitted to his courtly bow, and knocked a glass of water onto the floor.

“Yes, that seems right,” Bea said.

“Ohhhh, I feel sick,” I said. “I’d better deliver Her Majesty’s drink in case she gets any wild ideas about coming to the bar herself.”

“I genuinely don’t think you can rig an exercise bike to electrocute someone,” Nick was saying when I carried over the tumbler of Cuervo and a sampler of snacks.