Malice at the Palace Read Online Free PDF Page B

asked in surprise.
    â€œNot the Prince of Wales, although it’s certainly taking long enough for him to select someone suitable to be a future queen,” Fig said. “It’s the younger son, Prince George, who is to marry next month.”
    I couldn’t have been more surprised. “George?” It came out as a squeak. Prince George, the king’s fourth son, was utterly charming and delightful and fun, but from all I’d heard (and seen on occasion) he had been rather a naughty boy. “So the king and queen are trying to rein him in.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, rein him in?” Fig asked.
    â€œOne has heard rumors . . .” I glanced at Binky but got no reaction, so I supposed that news didn’t travel as far as Scotland or my relatives were so naïve that they weren’t aware that behavior like George’s went on.
    â€œCome now, Georgiana. Even princes of the realm are allowed to have a little fun in their youth,” Fig said. “As long as they do the right thing and marry well.”
    Personally I thought that posing naked wearing nothing but a Guardsman’s bearskin and having an affair with Noel Coward were slightly more than “having a little fun.” I’d once spotted him at a party where cocaine was being snorted. There were rumors also of affairs with highly unsuitable women.
    â€œWho is he marrying?” I asked.
    â€œPrincess Marina of Greece,” Binky said. “Danish royal family, you know. You’ve met her cousin Philip, haven’t you? Very handsome. Nice boy. Good sportsman.”
    â€œAnd of course we’ve been invited to the wedding,” Fig added with satisfaction. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, would we, Binky?”
    â€œOh no,” Binky said. “Ripping good fun.”
    â€œI wonder if I’m invited,” I said. “Is it to be a big affair?”
    â€œWestminster Abbey,” Fig said. “I wouldn’t know if you’ve been included in the guest list. They have to draw the line somewhere.”
    Binky pulled up his chair a little closer to me. “So, Georgie, what are your plans now you’ve returned from America? Are you staying in London?”
    â€œI was borrowing a friend’s mews cottage,” I said, “but she has returned home unexpectedly so I’m having to move out. I was thinking of coming up to Castle Rannoch while I look for a suitable job, but of course that’s now out of the question. There is always my grandfather. . . .”
    â€œThe one in Essex?” Fig made it sound as if it were one of the outer circles of hell.
    â€œSince the other one has been dead for many years the answer to that would be yes,” I replied. “He’s a perfectly charming person, just not—”
    â€œOf our class,” Fig cut in. “You can’t seriously be thinking of living in Essex! What would the family say if they found out? I don’t think they would appreciate the news that you were staying with a Cockney in Essex, Georgiana. However charming he is.”
    â€œThen do you have a better suggestion?” I asked.
    â€œYou must stay here,” Binky said with great enthusiasm.
    Fig’s face was a picture. She opened her mouth, went to say something, closed it again. I couldn’t resist answering hurriedly, “If you’re really sure it wouldn’t be inconvenient?”
    â€œInconvenient?” Binky said. “It’s your home, Georgie, old bean. We’d love to have you—wouldn’t we, Fig?”
    There was a distinct pause before she managed a tight smile and said, “Of course we would. Absolutely love you to stay.”

Chapter 4
    OCTOBER 29
    RANNOCH HOUSE, BELGRAVE SQUARE, LONDON W.1.
    I had to smile to myself as I left Rannoch House and headed for the Hyde Park Corner tube station. I had somewhere to stay for the immediate future. Now all I needed to do was to