Her Royal Spyness Read Online Free PDF Page A

of us relations every summer. Every summer we tried to come up with suitable excuses as to why we couldn’t be there. These ranged from yachting on the Med to making a visit to the colonies. It is rumored that one female relative actually managed to have a baby during the Balmoral season each year, although I think this was being a little excessive. It really wasn’t that bad for one brought up at Castle Rannoch. The tartan wallpaper, tartan carpets, the bagpipes at dawn, and the chill wind blasting in through open windows only reminded me of home. Others found it hard to endure, however.
    “Then we may go over to Glenrannoch together. Such a pretty drive, I always think.” She ushered me away from the glass cases and over to a small tea table. I must remind myself to write to Binky to warn him to lock up the best china and silver this summer I decided. “In fact, I rather suspect that my son David might have it in mind to persuade your brother to invite a certain woman to stay at Castle Rannoch this summer. David knows perfectly well that she would not be welcome at Balmoral, and Castle Rannoch is conveniently close by.” She touched my arm as I pulled out a chair for her to sit down. “And I use the word ‘woman’ advisedly, because she certainly is no lady,” she whispered. “An American adventuress, twice married already.” She sighed as she took a seat. “Why he can’t find someone suitable and settle down I simply can’t understand. He’s not getting younger and I would like to see him settled before he has to take the throne. Why can’t he marry someone like you, for example? You’d do very well.”
    “I’d have no objection,” I said. “But I’m afraid he sees me as a little girl still. He likes sophisticated older women.”
    “He likes tarts,” Her Majesty said coldly. She glanced up as the doors opened and an array of tea trays was carried in. “Ah, tarts,” she repeated, just in case her comment should have reached the ears of the servants.
    One by one the dishes were placed on the table. Tiny finger sandwiches with cress poking out of them, cake stands dotted with miniature éclairs and strawberry tarts. It was enough to bring tears to the eyes of one who had been living under Fig’s austerity all winter and for the past two days on toast and baked beans. The tears were not of joy, however. I had been to enough royal functions in my life to know the protocol. The guest only eats what Her Majesty eats. And Her Majesty was not likely to take more than a slice or two of brown bread. I sighed, waited for her to take brown bread, then took a slice myself.
    “I thought I might employ you as my spy,” she said, as tea was poured.
    “This summer at Castle Rannoch, you mean?”
    “I must find out the truth before that, Georgiana,” she said. “I only hear rumors. I want a firsthand account from somebody I can trust. I understand that David has persuaded Lord and Lady Mountjoy to give a house party and May ball and to include this woman and her husband—”
    “Her husband?” I knew one should never interrupt the queen. It just slipped out.
    She nodded with understanding. “Such behavior may well be considered acceptable in America. She is apparently still living with her husband. He, poor creature, is dragged around to provide respectability and to dispel rumors. Of course one can never dispel rumors. It has been all we can do to keep the press mute on the subject and if David becomes more brazen in his pursuit of her, then I don’t think we’ll be able to suppress the rumors much longer. I say his pursuit of her, but frankly I believe it to be the other way around. I suspect that this woman is relentlessly pursuing him. You know what he’s like, Georgiana. An innocent at heart, easily flattered, easily seduced.” She put down the slice of brown bread and leaned a little closer to me. “I need to know the truth, Georgiana. I need to know whether this is a mere flirtation for this