On Her Majesty's Frightfully Secret Service (Her Royal Spyness #11)(13)

But walking back I started to worry. I had traveled across the Continent before, but each time I had been accompanied. When I went to school in Switzerland one of the mistresses had escorted us from Victoria Station. When I went to Nice I had my maid with me and made friends with Madame Chanel and Vera Bate Lombardi on the train. And when I had to go to Romania for the royal wedding, the queen herself had provided a chaperon—the formidable Lady Middlesex. I wondered if she might take it upon herself to provide one again this time. All the more reason to make my journey as rapidly as possible.

And then I had a brilliant idea. My grandfather had been in poor health recently, his lungs suffering with the London smogs. I could take him with me. A few weeks on an Italian lake would be a marvelous tonic for him, and he could keep an eye on me on the journey. As quickly as this idea popped into my head I began to see the complications. My grandfather was a retired Cockney policeman. Could he share my first-class compartment? Would he want to? And when I arrived at Belinda’s villa, would there be somewhere for him to stay? She had described it as small, after all. Then I brushed these doubts aside. It should be no trouble to find him a room in the village nearby. He’d be fed good food by one of Francesca’s relatives and he’d be breathing good mountain air. And he would be near me, which was always a treat. I found myself smiling as I let myself into Rannoch House.

Fig’s head poked out of the drawing room door as I was taking off my mack. I hadn’t quite realized how much it was still raining and my reflection in the hall mirror was rather that of an orphan in the storm.

“Goodness, Georgiana, must you always arrive looking like a drowned rat?” she demanded. “I do hope you were looking slightly more civilized when you met the queen.”

“Oh yes. I took a taxicab there,” I said. “But the rain seemed to have eased up when I left the palace so I decided to walk.”

“You’d better come in and warm up by the fire,” she said. “We can’t have you going down with pneumonia.”

I thought this was rather touching for Fig until she added, “You’d upset our plans if we had to stay here longer, taking care of you. It’s bad enough having Binky with a cold. I just hope that doesn’t go to his chest.”

I nodded. “His cough sounded nasty this morning. I don’t think you should attempt to travel back to Scotland until he is fully healed.”

“Ah, but you forget we have had central heating installed at the castle now. What a treat it will be not to freeze all the time.”

“You’ll still have to keep the windows open, remember,” I said to her. “Family tradition and all that.”

This time I did allow myself to grin as I went ahead of her into the drawing room and took a seat in one of the armchairs beside the fire. The remains of tea were still on the low table. It crossed my mind that such sloppiness would never be allowed when Hamilton was in charge.

“So what exactly did the queen want of you?” Fig asked as she took the other armchair. She had probably been dying to find out since I came home.

“Mainly to discuss my marriage.”

“Have you actually been given permission to marry? That Darcy person is still a Catholic, isn’t he? And Binky assured me that you are not allowed to marry a Catholic.”

“I’m going to renounce my claim in the line of succession and never be queen,” I said, smiling at her. “That’s all it takes.”

“Ah,” she said. “So when will this wedding take place, do we know?”

“This summer, I hope. Darcy is away at the moment so we’re not able to make any decisions.”

“And does one take it that you’ll want to be married from Castle Rannoch?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Good Lord, no. Too far from anywhere. Although I do hope Binky will allow me to be married from this house, and you’ll come down for the wedding.”

“We’ll have to see about that.” She was clearly trying to come up with a reason why this would not be possible, so I added, “My dear friend the Princess Zamanska has already offered to arrange things at her place on Eaton Square, but I think it’s only right that one marry from the family home, don’t you?”

“Oh yes. Of course.”

There was another silence. Fig stared into the fire, which now needed coal added to it. Clearly she was right when she said the servants were not up to snuff.

“Should I ring for someone to put coal on the fire?” I asked.

She sighed. “I presume one could learn to do it oneself.” And she grabbed the tongs, lifted a piece of coal from the scuttle and placed it on the fire. “Really not so hard,” she said. I didn’t think it was likely to keep the fire going for long.

“So you’ll be off soon, then?” she asked.

“Yes. I’ll arrange for my ticket to Italy and be off in a few days,” I said.

“Staying with a sick friend, you said?”

“Yes. Oh, and the queen wanted me to run a little errand for her while I’m there.”

“Really, what kind of errand?”

“Oh, just something she wanted me to check up on when I’m in Italy.”

Fig was glaring at me now. “Why is it she asks you of all people to perform little tasks for her? Why not someone else? Why not Binky?”