Malice at the Palace Read Online Free

Malice at the Palace
Book: Malice at the Palace Read Online Free
Author: Rhys Bowen
Pages:
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own to live. At least she didn’t have royal family connections to live up to. I wondered where I’d go now. Would she expect me to move out immediately? In which case I’d have no choice but to take the next train back to Scotland. Oh golly, I thought. Castle Rannoch with winter coming, lashed by gales, gloomy beyond belief. I’d have to write to Fig to see if they’d have me, since it was now no longer my home. And if she said no . . . I turned away from the window, trying not to think about it. Mummy said I was welcome to stay in Germany, but I didn’t fancy that either—not the way things seemed to be going there these days.
    Either way, I’d have to start packing up my things. I’d need to collect Queenie from her parents’ house, which would mean an excuse to visit Granddad. That thought made me smile. I’d been visiting my grandfather on a regular basis while I’d been in London. I suppose I should add that I’m talking about my mother’s father, the retired Cockney policeman who lived in a semidetached with gnomes in the front garden, not the fierce Scottish duke who married a princess. The Scottish grandfather died before I was born, thank goodness, and it’s said that his ghost still haunts the battlements of Castle Rannoch.
    But my living grandfather was one of my favorite people. He always made me welcome, even though he had very little himself. Another thought crossed my mind: wouldn’t it be lovely if I could stay with him for a while? I pictured waking to the smell of bacon cooking, sitting drinking tea in his tiny kitchen, chatting with him by the fire. I sighed. Unfortunately I knew this would be frowned upon. It had been made quite clear to me that it would create great embarrassment to the family if the newspapers got wind of it. Royal in Reduced Circumstances. Her Highness Eats Down the Fish-and-Chip Shop. I could see the left-wing newspapers would have a field day.
    Really my family was too tiresome. I couldn’t take a job that might embarrass them. I couldn’t stay with the one person who wanted my company. And yet they offered me no financial support. How on earth did they expect me to live? I knew the answer to that one immediately: I was expected to make the right sort of marriage to some half-mad, chinless European princeling—the sort who get assassinated with monotonous frequency. They had introduced me to a couple of candidates and I had turned them down, much to everyone’s annoyance. But there are some lengths a girl won’t go to to put a roof over her head.
    There must be something I can do, I thought as I tiptoed downstairs and filled the kettle for tea. The trouble was that I wasn’t trained for anything except how to behave in the correct social circles. And in these days of depression there were people with real qualifications who were lining up for jobs. I sighed as I made the tea. If only I’d inherited my mother’s stunning looks, I could have followed her onto the stage. But alas I took after my father—tall, lanky, healthy Scottish outdoor looks.
    I cheered myself with the thought of going to see Granddad and made boiled eggs and toast before I went to wake Belinda. She looked rather the worse for wear as she sat at the dining table, sipping her tea and nibbling on a piece of toast.
    â€œI feel terrible turning you out now, darling,” she said. “If only I had a spare room . . .”
    â€œI know. It’s quite all right,” I said. “Don’t worry, something will turn up. I’ll go and retrieve Queenie and she can pack up my things and if worse comes to worst I can stay with my grandfather for a few days.”
    â€œI thought that was frowned upon by the family,” Belinda said.
    â€œIt is, but they aren’t exactly offering me an alternative, are they? I’ll pick up a copy of
The Lady
when I go out. There must be some job I
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