Malice at the Palace (7 page)

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 4

KENSINGTON PALACE, LONDON

Princess Marina arrives today. I hope she won't be as awful as her cousin!

The next day the apartment was full of hustle and bustle as we awaited the arrival of Princess Marina. Men appeared with large flower arrangements. Shelves were dusted. Fires were lit. Servants were in evidence and a good luncheon was served in the dining room. Civilization had come to apartment 1. I knew that the boat train was due in about four, so I made myself look as presentable as possible and went to the long salon to await the princess's arrival. Countess Irmtraut was already there.

“I did not see you at dinner last night,” she said. “You were unwell?”

“No, I dined with my great-aunt, Princess Louise,” I said. “She has the apartment next to this one.”

“Ah yes, I am told that this house is full of old royal ladies, but they do not invite me. I am not related to them, I suppose.”

What was I supposed to say—that I was sorry she wasn't related to the English royal family? When I said nothing she went on, “So why are you not a princess yourself if these ladies are your aunts?”

“My grandmother was Queen Victoria's daughter. The offspring of a princess do not inherit her title. My grandfather was a duke, so my father was also a duke, and I'm merely a lady.”

“Hmph,” she said, obviously weighing whether a mere lady might rank below her. She looked out of the window. It was still as dreary and blustery as November can be in England.

“I hope Marina had a good journey. I do not think the Channel would have been smooth.”

“Probably not. But it's only an hour, isn't it? One can endure most things for an hour.”

“It will be longer if she comes from Hook of Holland,” she said. “And rougher. I am always seasick, even on fine days. I have the delicate constitution of my ancestors.”

I was extremely glad that Major Beauchamp-Chough joined us at that moment. “Won't be long now,” he said. “The princess will be tired from her long journey, so I propose we let her rest until the motorcar comes for you at seven.”

“The motorcar?” Countess Irmtraut asked.

“The princess has been invited to dine with her new family,” the major said.

“We are to accompany her?” Irmtraut asked.

“Only Lady Georgiana, since she is a family member,” he said curtly.

Irmtraut glared at me.

At that moment there was the crunch of tires on gravel and a Daimler drew up outside. Major B-C jumped up and strode briskly to the front door. We heard his big voice booming, “Welcome to Kensington Palace, Your Highness. Inclement weather, I'm afraid. I hope the Channel wasn't too rough.”

“Quite big swells. Rather exciting, actually,” answered a woman's voice. And they came through into the room. From what I had been told—that the family had lived in exile with relatives and were rather poor—I had formed an image of a shy, rather dowdy young girl, a younger, fresher-faced version of Irmtraut. Instead into the room strode this tall and beautiful young woman. She was dressed in the height of fashion with a fox-fur-trimmed coat, beautifully cut, and a daring little hat perched on one side of her head. She gave a radiant smile when she saw Countess Irmtraut and held out her hands.

“Irmtraut. You're here. How good of you to come.” They kissed on the cheeks.

Prince George came into the room behind her. “Hello, Georgie,” he said, giving me what I interpreted as a slightly warning look. It was saying clearly, “You've seen me at a naughty party. Please forget about it.”

“Hello, sir,” I replied. “May I offer my heartiest congratulations on your upcoming wedding.”

We exchanged the briefest of looks of understanding and he smiled.

“My dear,” he said to Marina, “this is my cousin Georgiana I told you about. She has volunteered to stay with you here and show you around London.”

“Georgiana, how delightful.” She held out her hand to me. “How kind of you to give up your time to introduce me to London,” she said. Her English was perfect and almost accent free. “I still have so much shopping to do for my trousseau. I've been away from Paris and the good shops for too long. Most European cities are too dreary and old-fashioned for words, especially Copenhagen, where I was staying. You can take me to the most fashionable shops in London. We'll have such fun.”

Oh golly, I thought. I was the last person to escort someone around the most fashionable shops. I had never had the money to shop at any of them and my experience ended with Harrods, Barkers, and maybe Fenwick. Certainly not the most fashionable boutiques London had to offer.

Major Beauchamp-Chough came in announcing to Princess Marina that her bags and her maid were now in her suite and he would escort her to it anytime she was ready. He suggested that she might want to rest after her long journey.

She gave a chuckle at this. “I've been sitting in a train carriage for most of the day. Hardly strenuous. What I'd really like is some tea. I have to say that English teatime is the best thing about moving to England.”

“I'd rather hoped that I was the best thing,” George said.

“Apart from you, my darling.” She reached out a hand to touch his and I saw genuine affection there.

“I'll leave you to settle in, then,” George said. “I'll see you tonight at dinner.” He blew her a kiss as he left. Marina smiled fondly after him. I began to feel hopeful that this might be a true love match after all.

As soon as he was gone we enjoyed a good tea around the fire.

“I really missed having a proper tea when we lived in Paris,” Marina said.

“Was it the custom to have tea in your family?” I asked.

“We had an English nanny,” the princess said. “She expected tea to be served every day in the nursery.”

“Ah, that explains your perfect English,” I said.

She nodded. “Miss Kate Fox. Terribly strict and correct. You know, made us sleep with the windows open in a howling gale, and we had to mind our p's and q's. I expect you had one too?”

“My nanny was actually quite kind, which was good as neither of my parents was in evidence. But windows are always required to be open at Castle Rannoch, even in Scottish gales.”

Marina smiled. “George has told me about the obligatory visits to Balmoral. I expect it will be much the same there.”

“Definitely. And the piper waking everyone at dawn.”

We laughed, at least Marina and I did. Irmtraut sat silent and staring past us, out of the window.

“Where are you to live, ma'am?” I asked. “Here at Kensington Palace?”

“Oh gosh, no. Too depressing for words, don't you think?” she said. “We'll be living in Belgrave Square. George is anxious to be moving out of his rooms at St. James's Palace. Do you know Belgrave Square?”

“Our family's London home is also there. What a coincidence.”

“Then we shall be neighbors. How lovely.” She reached out to me this time.

Irmtraut glared.

We chatted on as Marina worked her way through crumpets and scones and shortbread. It was all very pleasant and we probably lingered a little too long before finally realizing that we should go up and change for dinner at the palace. I found Queenie in my room, reading a magazine.

“Did you get your tea sent up to you?” I asked.

“No, I told them not to bother and I came down to have it in the kitchen. When it comes on a tray you only get one slice of cake.”

The thought of Queenie coming down the stairs at just the time that Princess Marina was obviously arriving made me go cold all over. “I'd prefer it if you stayed put, Queenie.”

“But it's lonely up here all by myself. And it's a bit creepy too. I kept hearing noises last night.”

“I'm sure it was just the wind,” I said brightly. No sense in telling her about the ghosts. “But now I have to get ready for dinner at the palace so please get out my blue evening dress.”

“Your blue one?” she asked.

“Yes. The cornflower blue silk with the beading. The one my mother bought for me in America when my best clothes were lost in the fire. And those nice silk evening shoes too. I have to look my best.”

There was a long pause. A feeling of doom began to creep over me. “Queenie, has something happened to my evening dress? You didn't try to iron it, and melt it, did you?”

“Oh no, miss. Nothing like that. It's just that . . . it ain't here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I must have left it behind when we had to get out of your friend's place in a hurry. I remember that I couldn't fit all of your things into the wardrobe in the box room, so I shoved some into Miss Belinda's wardrobe. I suppose I must have forgotten them.”

“You've forgotten my one good evening gown?” I tried not to shriek. “Queenie, I'm about to dine at the palace with the king and queen. All I have here are the burgundy and bottle green velvet and they are decidedly old and unfashionable and there is that place on the skirt where you ironed the velvet once. Queenie, you are hopeless. And it's too late to send you round to Belinda's in a taxi now.”

“Sorry, miss,” she said. “My old dad only said the other day that I'd forget my own head if it wasn't attached to my shoulders. That was when I forgot to turn off the gas and nearly blew up the house.” And she gave an apologetic grin.

“Well, I have to make the best of it, I suppose,” I said. “I'll wear the burgundy I wore last night.”

“Oh, that one?” She was looking sheepish again.

“Please tell me something hasn't happened to the burgundy velvet dress.”

“Not exactly,” she said. “It's just that you wouldn't want to wear it tonight.”

“And why is that?” Doom was enveloping me in a shroud.

“Well, you got a little spot on it at dinner last night and I was sponging it off and I turned around and me bum knocked the basin of water off the washstand. And it sort of went all over the skirt. So, I'm afraid it's a bit wet.”

“Queenie, I should sack you on the spot,” I exclaimed.

She hung her head. “Yeah, I know, miss. But accidents happen, don't they? Remember that time you bumped into someone with the tray of wine?”

I'm afraid she had me there, reminding me of my own clumsiness again. Maybe she wasn't quite as thick as she pretended.

“Go and find the bottle green dress and if you've damaged that one I'll throttle you personally.”

The bottle green dress emerged from the wardrobe undamaged, but it had certainly seen better days and there was that patch of skirt where Queenie had ironed the velvet the wrong way. I now owned a silver fox stole, courtesy of my mother, so I planned to drape that over as much of me as possible. I was in low spirits when I went down to await Marina. And they sank even lower when she appeared in a stunning white dress dotted with pearls.

“Nobody will pay any attention to you anyway,” I told myself.

The Daimler arrived and we set off.

“I'm very glad you are coming with me, Georgiana,” Marina said in a whisper. “I am a little nervous about dining with my future family. The queen always seems so haughty and severe. Rather frightening after my own family, who are so easygoing.”

“Yes, they can be rather alarming,” I said. “I am invited to the palace quite frequently and every time I tremble at the knees. The king and queen are very hot on protocol. I always have to remember to curtsy and call her ma'am.”

She took my hand. “Then you and I will support each other.”

How charming she was, I thought, and I hoped fervently that Prince George could really learn to behave himself and to love her as she deserved. I tried to picture myself if I had agreed to marry Prince Siegfried, moving to a strange country with unfamiliar customs and a groom who would never love me. And I thought how lucky I was that I had found Darcy.

It was certainly less alarming to arrive at Buckingham Palace in a suitable Daimler motorcar and to drive past the guards, into the palace forecourt, through the arch and up to the main entrance. We were escorted up the stairs and into the Music Room, where the king and queen, together with the Duke and Duchess of York, were awaiting us. There was no sign of the Prince of Wales or the bridegroom. The queen came forward to meet us.

“Marina. Welcome, my dear. How very good to see you looking so well. And Georgiana too. Such a pleasure.”

Marina was kissed on both cheeks. I curtsied. Marina then kissed the king and was introduced to the duke and duchess.

“I must apologize for my sons,” the queen said, looking around with obvious displeasure. “The king is extremely punctual and my sons appear to be more Continental in their approach to time. The Prince of Wales did tell me that he feared he would not be able to join us on this occasion, but your future husband was with us only a short time ago and went home to change into his dinner jacket. I can't think what could be delaying him.”