Heirs and Graces (A Royal Spyness Mystery) Read Online Free Page A

be gratefully accepted.
    I finished “I remain Your Majesty’s most humble and devoted servant, your affectionate cousin, Georgiana.”
    Then I took it to the post, held my breath and waited.

Chapter 3
    CHEYNE WALK, CHELSEA, AND BUCKINGHAM PALACE
    It was only two days before the end of the month and Mrs. Tombs was dropping not-too-subtle hints that she hoped I’d hurry up and clear out because she had cleaning to do before the next lot came in. I was beginning to despair when I received a reply from Buckingham Palace.
    “My dear Georgiana,” Her Majesty had written in her own hand. “Your letter arrived at a most fortuitous time. If you would care to come to tea tomorrow, I think I might have an interesting little assignment for you.”
    It was signed “Your affectionate cousin, Mary R.” (the
R
meaning Regina, of course). Even when she was being affectionate she always remained correct.
    I stood there, studying the letter, not knowing whether to be excited or worried. The queen’s past little assignments had ranged from hosting a visiting princess to stealing a purloined snuffbox. One never knew. At least it would be better than a cold, bleak castle in Scotland. I went upstairs to make sure I had something suitable to wear. I chose the skirt and dusky-pink cashmere cardigan that my mother had given me for Christmas. They were the closest I had to daytime chic. Then I had to remind Queenie not to pack them with the rest of my belongings.
    “So where are we going then?” she asked.
    “I have no idea. But somewhere.”
    “I hope it’s abroad again,” she said. “I could do with some of that Froggy food again after her downstairs. And sunshine too.”
    A glorious picture of the villa in Nice swam into my head—the Mediterranean sparkling blue at the bottom of the cliff, the scent of mimosas in the air. It was probably too much to hope for. Then I reminded myself that it had been dangerous too. I hoped this assignment would not involve danger. Excitement was fine, but I’d prefer not to come within an inch of my life again.
    “So where are you off to then?” Mrs. Tombs asked, appearing in that uncanny way every time I came into the front hall. “Another bit of shopping?”
    “No, I’m going to have tea with the queen,” I said.
    “Go on with you. Pull the other one, it’s got bells on,” she said, chuckling.
    “No, honestly.”
    “Why would the queen want to have tea with you?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
    “Because I’m her cousin,” I replied. “I’m Lady Georgiana Rannoch. I’m frequently invited to the palace.”
    “Blimey.” She put her hand up to her face. “And I never knew. I thought your face looked familiar somehow. Wait till I tell her next door that I’ve been entertaining royalty.”
    I almost said “And serving her leftover stew,” but I contented myself with a smile as I went out.
    I arrived at Buckingham Palace on the stroke of four. It always took every ounce of courage to approach those tall, gilded gates and to tell those impossibly tall guards that I was expected for tea. Then I had to cross the forecourt, which always seemed to take forever, with the eyes of passing tourists upon me, before I went under the arch, across the courtyard and up to that terrifying main entrance.
    “Good afternoon, my lady,” the welcoming footman said, bowing. “Her Majesty is expecting you in the Chinese Chippendale room. Allow me to escort you there.”
    Oh, crikey. The Chinese Chippendale room. Why couldn’t she have chosen somewhere else? Any other room in the palace would have done. But the Chinese Chippendale room was her favorite: small, intimate and decorated with far too many Chinese vases, priceless porcelain statues and her jade collection. There’s probably something you should know about me: in moments of stress I tend to get a little clumsy. I remember tripping over the footman’s outstretched foot when he bowed to usher me inside once, thus propelling