CHAPTER FOUR

I turned around and walked to the morning room. Opening the door, I gestured for Lady Raminoff to precede me. I shut the door behind me, sat by my typewriter, and waved toward another chair. “Please sit.”

She remained standing, leaned into my face, and snarled, “What were you and the princess up to today?”

I looked up at her, keeping my gaze steely. “Please sit,” I repeated.

“I asked you a question, peasant.”

Once I comprehended what she’d said in French, my temper rose at the insult and I allowed a hard edge to show in my voice. “If you want an answer, you will sit down and ask me like a sane person.”

“Pig.”

“That’s no way to get an answer.”

“You are disrespectful. I will get you thrown out.”

“You misjudge your position and your power.”

She opened her mouth, considered my words, and shut it again without speaking. Then she stalked over and lowered herself into the chair. “Well?”

“We rode to the National Gallery. We looked at paintings and went through various English nouns. The Duke of Sussex helpfully supplied painting terms I was unfamiliar with. Then we rode back here.”

“You smuggled her out of this house.”

“Actually, she smuggled me out of the house.”

“Nonsense.”

“No. It’s the truth.”

“How would she know how to do that? She has only been here a day.”

“That’s a good question for which she didn’t give me an answer.”

Her gaze sharpened and her voice dropped. “You asked her?”

“Of course.”

“I want you to act as my eyes and ears. If she does anything out of the ordinary, meets anyone you don’t know, you tell me.”

“Why would I?”

“I will pay you.” She named a healthy sum.

Her chaperone didn’t trust Princess Kira. Smart woman. I decided to at least pretend to consider her offer. “Why don’t you trust her? The princess is a sensible girl. She seems to want this marriage. She wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her future.”

“She is headstrong and flighty. Her parents indulged her. The tsar’s mother assigned me this role to make sure she doesn’t do anything to upset this marriage or relations between our countries.”

“What could she do?”

“Find another suitor. Wrap herself in scandal. Become compromised. Insult the royal family, which would be an affront to the tsar’s mother. There are infinite ways someone who is both as innocent and as devious as Princess Kira can ruin herself.”

Lady Raminoff was right. The princess was naive and sneaky in equal measure, and that could be a lethal combination. “I imagine any scandal would upset both royal families. They were both involved in arranging this match, weren’t they?”

“Yes. The tsar’s mother worked with her sister to push for this marriage in both countries.”

Her sister? It took me a moment before I made the connection. “The tsar’s mother is the sister of the Princess of Wales.”

“Precisely. A wrong move by Princess Kira will reflect badly on both these royal ladies.” When calm and away from the princess, Lady Raminoff no longer sounded like a parrot. Or perhaps I’d just grown used to her painfully screechy voice. “And what we fear the most. Princess Kira’s thoughtless behavior will get her killed by anarchists.”

“Can you possibly believe any of these fears is a real possibility?”

“Yes.”

Oh, dear. She spoke with such assurance she shook my certainty that the princess couldn’t be in danger in England. “Are you worried because Princess Kira’s bodyguard was killed?”

“Wouldn’t you be? Lidijik got on well with her. He could handle her, having known her since she was a child. And he spoke English. Where they’ll find another guard to take his place, I don’t know.”

So the dead guard spoke English. Was that why he had to be removed from his post? I shook my head. “I’m sure the police are capable of looking out for her safety. They guard the royal family, and nothing has happened to them.”

“But Kira is Russian. Your police know nothing of the anarchists in our midst. We know them. We can smell them nearby.”

“This guard, Lidijik. Were you well acquainted with him?”

“He had traveled with the princess and her family before when Kira studied painting in Paris for a few months. I met him and the princess for the first time at the beginning of this trip, before we sailed to visit your queen and then to travel to London. Kira’s father knew Lidijik since he grew up in their village and may have asked for him specifically, but I don’t know how they made that decision.”

“You weren’t her chaperone on the trip to Paris?”

“No, thank goodness.”

Switching topics, I asked, “Tell me about Lidijik.”

“What is there to tell?”

“Someone managed to kill him in a crowded railway station without anyone noticing. He never sounded an alarm. How did someone get so close to him they could silently kill him and escape without anyone being the wiser? And why was he in the luggage carriage?”

Lady Raminoff pursed her lips as if something tasted bad. “He was in the luggage carriage because the princess asked him to get a small case for her. She’d meant to carry it in our compartment with her. It contained a sketch pad and pencils. When he didn’t return, the princess sent a steward after the guard. And so he was found before the train had begun to move.”

“You think Lidijik knew his killer?”

“He had to have. He wouldn’t have let a stranger come up and kill him.”

“Perhaps he was approached by someone who didn’t ‘smell’ like an anarchist.”

Lady Raminoff studied me for a moment. “An Englishman. An official Englishman. That is the person Lidijik wouldn’t have suspected. And the station platform was crowded with them that day.”

Logical, but it moved us no further ahead. “Where did Lidijik learn English?”

“At court. He has served as personal bodyguard to the tsar. The tsar and his wife speak English to each other.” She made one squeaking laugh. “They are more like an English gentleman and lady than most of the people you meet at Balmoral.”

Suspicion niggled at a spot inside my brain. Had Lidijik begun Princess Kira’s English lessons? How much did she already know? And if she’d learned English, why was she pretending otherwise?

I glanced at Lady Raminoff and realized the same might be said about her.

I spoke to her in English. “Are you family to Princess Kira?”

She looked at me blankly. “In French, please?”

So she hadn’t learned English from the Russian court or the imperial guard, Lidijik. Or I’d have to be cleverer to trip her up. I repeated my question in French.

“No. I’m the widow of a minister who served the tsar’s father for many years. Having no place in society and no money of my own, I serve the tsar’s mother in whatever position she sees fit to employ me.”

Lady Monthalf, whom I thought of as Aunt Phyllida, had told me of childhood friends of hers who had ended up in the same position as Lady Raminoff. Homeless and penniless once their husbands died, discarded by the new heir, these women became companions to elderly relatives and chaperones to their young in exchange for a place in society and their daily bread.

Instead of distrusting her, I found myself pitying her. And I found I had more questions for her charge. “Where would I find Princess Kira now?”

“Come. I will take you to her.”

Lady Raminoff led me upstairs and down hallways until we came to a door leading to what I thought was the back of the house. She knocked and opened the door to a light-filled wonder.

The large room possessed a skylight and windows across the back overlooking the garden. The space was full of light and air. Beyond the view of the wide expanse of greenery in the garden and the dark-roofed carriage house, Mayfair stretched out under a brilliant blue sky.

A huge table and shelves to my left held paints and brushes; to my right a stack of canvases leaned against the wall. A window was opened near a bottle marked turpentine, but I could still smell the pungent liquid. Two easels were set up with works in progress on both, the princess standing in front of one, and the duchess in front of the other. The duchess looked over her shoulder at us and turned back to her work. The princess didn’t turn around at all.

“I would never have guessed this room was here,” I said in English.

“It’s over the conservatory,” the duchess replied in an aggravated tone.

“I need to ask the princess some questions.”

At those words in English, the princess did swivel around to look at me, her mouth set in a tight line.

I would have bet she understood me, but it could have been only the word “princess.” She must have heard that word directed at her any number of times since arriving in Britain.

“What is it?” she asked in French of both me and her chaperone standing next to me.

“I need to ask you some questions about Lidijik, the guard who was killed.”

“I’m painting,” she snapped. “We will talk tomorrow before luncheon.” Then she swung back around and considered her work.

With both works unfinished, the two painters seemed equal in talent but their techniques and palettes were different. The duchess used paler shades and the objects in her still life were realistically portrayed. The princess employed brighter shades and more impressionistic strokes to convey the rooflines of Mayfair spread out before her.

“It’s good the duke is pleased with your talent,” I said in my terrible French.

“I’d have nothing to do with him otherwise,” the princess replied, studying the skyline.

•   •   •

AFTER DINNER THAT night, Aunt Phyllida, Emma, and I were in the parlor when we heard a knock on the door. Exchanging surprised glances with my housemates, I rose to answer it and found Blackford on our doorstep.

For a moment I stared, lost between joy and disbelief. When the duke began to smile at my frozen gaze, I hurriedly said, “Your Grace, please come in.”

He set down his top hat, gloves, and cane on the side table and followed me into the parlor. Emma and Phyllida both rose and curtsied. He bowed in return and I asked him to sit while Phyllida, her knitting forgotten, hurried off to make tea.

“You’ve come to learn what Georgia’s discovered,” Emma said. “I’m dying to know myself. And what have you found out, Your Grace?”

“Well, I—,” the duke began.

Phyllida appeared in the doorway. “Emma, come give me a hand with the tea, please.”

Emma raised her elegant, pale eyebrows and rose to join Phyllida in the kitchen.

I felt my cheeks heat. Phyllida knew how much I enjoyed Blackford’s company and was giving us a chance to be alone for a moment. I wish she’d been a little more subtle.

The duke kept a sober expression. “Your bookshop is doing well in your absence?”

“Yes. Emma and Frances have everything in hand, although it’s only been a matter of two days.” An uncomfortable silence dropped between us, something that didn’t often happen. “The Duke of Sussex is all right with you accompanying him to visit his fiancée?” I asked a little too quickly.

“I suspect Sussex is a little afraid of the princess. He’s not very experienced with women and she is young and beautiful. For the first time in his life, he wants something and he’s not certain he’ll get it.”

“You think the princess will call off the wedding?”

He looked at me as if he thought I were mad. “No. Both monarchs would make her life miserable if she tried to get out of the marriage at this point, and I don’t think she wants to. Arthur, Duke of Sussex, realizes how marvelous Princess Kira is and can’t believe his luck. And the lady knows how to keep him on pins and needles.”

“Why would she feel the need?”

“Perhaps she’s not certain of him, either, and he represents the best deal for marriage she can get. Perhaps this was how she was taught to deal with suitors. Perhaps it’s just the pride and arrogance of a young woman certain of her worth.”

“Once they’re married, the power will all be on his side.” Perhaps Kira wanted to start married life on a more equal footing than most women managed.

“No. She’ll have the reins in that marriage. I know Sussex. He’ll always be her tame pet.” Blackford sounded disgusted.

“I don’t know what your wife will be like, but I hope she doesn’t think you’ll be anyone’s tame anything,” I responded without thinking and then wanted to kick myself. We always tried to sidestep any mention of the duke’s need to marry and produce an heir. His fiancée had died under suspicious circumstances, and I didn’t want to think of the day when he’d settle down with another woman. Until then, I could have my daydreams.

“Whoever she may be, she won’t be anything like Princess Kira. I like a woman with brains and fire and maturity. Kira may have the fire, but she lacks the rest. Ah,” he said, opening the door wider for Emma as she entered with the tea tray. Phyllida followed with some biscuits on a platter.

Once we were settled with our tea, I told them all I’d learned or suspected.

After a moment of thought, Blackford said, “I think we may want to catch the young lady if Kira meets her again in the park.”

“No. Don’t catch her. Follow her. Learn who she is. Emma, in the morning will you ask Jacob to follow this girl from the park? We don’t want him to speak to her, only to learn who she is and where she lives.” I scrunched up my face and shook my head. Something about this didn’t feel right.

“You think this girl is a side issue?” Emma asked.

“I can’t see the princess having a hand in the guard’s death or in any plot against herself or the royal family. Can you?” I asked Blackford.

His dark eyes kept me pinned to my seat while his expression gave no clue to his thoughts. “No. But I still believe the girl is at the center of whatever Princess Kira is up to. Everything else about the princess’s life is regulated and expected.”

“Did Jacob learn anything at the Russian embassy?”

“Nothing we didn’t know before. A clerk told him everyone was shocked that Lidijik was murdered. They said he was very ordinary. Competent, but not one for gambling or taking risks. He didn’t raise strong feelings in anyone he met.”

I kept my eyes on Blackford’s face. “Then we should proceed under the assumption that Lidijik was killed because he was Princess Kira’s guard, not for anything he’d done.”

Blackford nodded. “That seems like the best way to proceed. Given the desires of two governments to wrap this up quickly, we’d better work on the most likely scenario first.”

Then he added, “Emma, since you’re working on the burglary case, there’s something you need to know. The burglars of the Marquis of Shepherdston’s house have struck again. Lord Walker’s residence was attacked today and the safe in his bedroom was blown up.”

“Two investigations and both sets of villains are getting away with anything they want. Your Grace, this isn’t working well, dealing with two cases at once,” I told him.

The duke said, “Georgia, you concentrate on the princess. Other members of the Archivist Society will take care of the burglars. Whoever these villains are, they learned from their past mistakes. They did a better job of blowing the door to the safe. This time they left the rest of the house intact.”

“Was there any report of who was involved?”

“It sounds like the same two masked men, one very tall, the other average height and wiry. They were both reported to be carrying pistols and wearing half masks as if going to a ball. They worked faster this time and they got away without anyone having time to raise the alarm.”

“Was it another daylight robbery?”

“Yes. At a time when the streets were particularly busy due to an accident on the nearby main road. Traffic was using any route it could find to maneuver through the side streets.”

“The accident was either due to good luck for the thieves or great cleverness on their part.” I raised my eyebrows at Blackford.

“My thoughts exactly. Also, they timed the raid for when everyone was supposed to be on the lower floors of the house, giving the thieves access to the bedroom without being seen.”

“Supposed to be?” Emma asked.

“Two of the maids had snuck up to their room. They came down when they heard and felt the explosion in time to see the burglars escape.”

“And these two were smart enough not to stand between the thieves and the door?”

“Yes. That footman of Shepherdston’s was foolish as well as brave.” Blackford shook his head. “Poor man.”

“But to know how to move through the household almost undetected tells me these thieves have a good knowledge of Lord Walker’s routine as well as the layout of the house.” I set down my teacup. “What did they take?”

“They were seen carrying two Queen Anne chairs and two silver lanterns. Lord Walker discovered that all the cash and jewels in his safe had vanished as well.”

“Seen carrying chairs?” I burst out laughing at their audacity. “They just walked down the street with the furniture?”

“No. The two maids watched from an upstairs window and saw the cart they left in. They were able to give a vague description of their confederates. It appears there were five burglars in all, including the driver of the cart.”

“This is wonderful news, Your Grace. Does Sir Broderick know of this latest burglary?” Emma leaned forward, her eyes shiny with excitement.

“Yes. He’s having the Archivist Society investigate this as well as the Shepherdston robbery in the hopes that something will lead them to the burglars.”

Blast. They’d be doing something useful while I would be teaching English to a pampered princess who I suspected of using me. Why couldn’t I be helpful?

•   •   •

WHEN I ARRIVED the next morning, I discovered Lady Daisy’s governess, Amelia Whitten, hadn’t left her hat and gloves on the table. Until now she had always arrived before me. Had there been an upset in the household?

I had no more than entered the morning room and removed the cover from the typewriter when the duchess entered. I gave her a low curtsy. “Your Grace.”

“Miss Whitten, Lady Daisy’s tutor, won’t be in today. Illness. I’ll have to see to more of Daisy’s care, so you’ll be on your own with Princess Kira and Lady Raminoff in the park today.” She seemed distracted, pacing the little room and rearranging small objects on tables and the mantel.

I didn’t know what Princess Kira had in mind, but I decided to try to upset her plans. “Why don’t you and Lady Daisy come with us? I’m sure your daughter could liven up our English lessons.”

“I know she’d like that. She’s fascinated with the princess, from her title to her frocks. And I think I’m due a little diversion, after trying to keep the household on an even keel. A princess and her staff as houseguests, plus luncheon guests and afternoon visitors for the princess, plus the worry about her safety.” The duchess gave me a small smile.

I smiled back. “Good. It’ll take two carriages, but it will be great fun. And Lady Raminoff won’t have anything to complain about.”

“Thank goodness.” She shook her head without wiggling the stylish curls carefully framing her face. “She nearly screamed the house down when she realized the princess had slipped out yesterday afternoon. And when she realized you were with her, she demanded I fire you.”

“I’m sorry. If I’d known what she planned, I would have warned you somehow.” The duchess was being a good sport about the disruptions to her home. I wouldn’t like to put my house at the mercy of Whitehall’s paranoia or the whims of anarchists. I didn’t want to make things more difficult for her.

“Well, today we’ll make sure things go better.” The duchess managed a weary smile and left the room.

After I had my solitary luncheon, I waited nearly an hour before a maid entered and told me I was expected immediately in the front hall.

I hurried to put on my hat and gloves and nearly ran until I would be in sight of anyone in the entrance foyer. Then I slowed to a respectable gait and stepped into the front hall.

The duchess was there with a nursery maid keeping close guard on Lady Daisy, Lady Raminoff watching Princess Kira with distrust on her face, and the two dukes, Sussex and Blackford, eyeing the whole party uneasily.

I gave the group a deep curtsy and said, “I hope I haven’t kept Your Graces waiting.”

“Not at all,” Sussex said. “The coaches are pulling up now.”

We all walked outside and divided into two groups. Sussex and Blackford took the princess and Lady Raminoff in Sussex’s coach. The rest of us climbed into Hereford’s coach with the help of a footman, and we started off.

Hyde Park was only a stone’s throw away. But by the time the carriages reached the fashionable road entering the gardens, I could have arrived at the park faster on foot. London traffic was its usual tangle of wagons, carriages, omnibuses, and hansom cabs, blocking and then spitting out vehicles at every crossroad.

Lady Daisy spent the ride bouncing from one seat to the other, commenting on every sight. The duchess smiled at her daughter’s antics without trying to restrain her. The nursery maid would have her hands full once the child was let loose in the open space.

The two carriages pulled up together inside the park near the bandstand and we all climbed down into the sunlight of a perfect fall day. Lady Daisy skipped around us, chattering constantly. I walked over to the princess, curtsied deeply, and said, “Shall we begin our lesson?”

“Oui.” She pointed at the carriages and asked what they were called in English. I answered and then she asked about horses, saddles, bridles, and reins.

A man pedaled past on a bicycle to the joyous shrieks of Lady Daisy. “What is that?” the princess asked.

I told her as Lady Daisy ran after him, her maid chasing after her as the tail of their parade.

Turning away from the fashionable traffic, the princess walked along a narrow path, asking the names of trees and flowers. The farther we walked, the princess leading us at a quick pace, the more Lady Raminoff struggled to keep up. Her breathing became labored.

We reached a bench and the older woman dropped onto it gratefully. “Continue your lesson. I’ll meet you back at the carriage,” she said in French as her chest heaved.

“As you wish,” the princess responded in a haughty tone and continued without a backward look.

I glanced over to ask if I could do anything for Lady Raminoff and caught a fleeting expression on her face. She was staring at the princess’s back, and the look she gave her was pure malice.