“Not you,” he said. “Her Majesty has requested your presence in her chambers.”

Nick turned to me with a flummoxed look on his face. I’d only been in Eleanor’s room once before, when she’d dazzled me with tiaras before essentially threatening me into renouncing my American citizenship. The idea of facing her now that she had real cause to loathe me made me queasy, but I wasn’t about to let Richard see me falter, so I put a reassuring hand on Nick’s arm.

“It’s all good,” I said. “I’ve got this.”

“There’s that American can-do spirit,” Lady Elizabeth sang, pushing past us, her pregnant belly having swollen to a truly impressive girth over the last two months. She was technically a duchess now, as Edwin had been given his father’s dukedom, but to me and the press and everyone else she would always be Lady Elizabeth—much like how, to most people, I would always be Bex. We both liked it that way.

“Hang on, is Elizabeth taking Edwin’s place now?” Nick asked his father. “I can’t believe you allowed that.”

Elizabeth chortled. “Pet, it’s easier if I do this bit! Eddy’s no good at linear thinking, we all know that.” She gave me a rushed hug. “Welcome back. I’ve been wanting to ask: Where did you consummate it? Eddybear and I have tried all over St. James’s and there were never any closets that could—”

“We’d better begin,” Richard interrupted. “Nicholas, take a seat. You, wait here for Marj.”

And then he closed the door in my face.

“No problem,” I said to the door, which didn’t seem impressed by my false confidence.

The barren hallway was peaceful, with just the ticking of the hand-carved walnut grandfather clock to keep me company. I would’ve loved to take off and explore on my own en route to Eleanor, but Buckingham Palace had 775 rooms, and I could barely make my way through the ones that were on the public tour, much less find the Queen from a dining room I’d never seen before today. Instead, I wandered to the large window overlooking the private park that stretched out behind the palace. The last time I was out on the lawn, Clive’s threats were closing in around me, and it seemed possible that I’d never return to it. I looked down at the Lyons Emerald, sparkling once more on my left hand. At least we’d gotten this far, even if the route had been ugly.

“Fond memories?”

Marj had appeared behind me, as comforting and grandmotherly as always in her light shawl and the half-moon glasses she wore hooked to a thin gold chain.

“Memories, anyway,” I said. “It’s good to see you, Marj.”

She smiled, but did not offer a hug. “Let me walk you to Her Majesty’s quarters. I’ve got a few items to discuss on the way.”

“Thank you for having Donna send me something to wear,” I said, falling in step with her. “I’m so fried from yesterday that I could not have done it on my own.”