‘I’m so glad that Nonno is going to be all right.’ Caprice smiled, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. ‘And it sounds like Mummy has a lot to deal with, so if you don’t mind me staying, I’m sure it will make things much easier for her.’
Queen Georgiana nodded. ‘Of course, dear. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.’
Millie, Jacinta and Sloane traded glances.
Caprice smiled. ‘Thank you, Aunty Gee.’
Millie looked at the girl and thought she might throw up.
By Monday morning the palace had taken on a completely different feel. Most of the guests had left the previous afternoon, except for Alice-Miranda, her friends and Edgar and Louis. Though the boys only lived a couple of miles away, they preferred to stay at their grandmother’s because Evesbury Palace was much closer to the tower.
The children had enjoyed a simple supper in the casual sitting room the night before. They’d played board games until Caprice was caught cheating and stormed off to bed in a huff. Aunty Gee had been called away on some official palace business, leaving Mrs Marmalade to make sure they all got to bed at a reasonable hour. It had been arranged for the children to meet Aunty Gee for breakfast in the small dining room at half past seven, and one of the butlers was to escort them downstairs.
At exactly twenty-five past the hour there was a sharp knock on Alice-Miranda’s bedroom door. Millie raced to open it.
‘Good morning, Miss Millicent.’ Frank Bunyan bowed his head slightly. ‘I’ve come to collect you all for breakfast.’
Millie frowned, wondering why he had to come.
‘Hello Mr Bunyan,’ Alice-Miranda bounded over to the door. ‘How are you today?’
‘Fine, thank you,’ the man said with a nod. ‘Are you ready to go?’
‘Caprice is still in the bathroom,’ Millie said. She turned and yelled for the girl to hurry up.
‘I’m coming,’ Caprice called back. ‘If someone hadn’t taken all day in the shower I’d be ready by now.’
A smile tickled Millie’s lips. She hadn’t been that long in the shower but she’d purposely kept busy in the bathroom, grooming herself within an inch of her life. Her nails were neatly filed and scrubbed clean, her ears were completely wax-free and she’d even had time to blow-dry her hair.
Millie looked at the butler. ‘Mr Bunyan, is there something the matter with your face?’ she asked. The skin on the man’s jaw seemed to be hanging loose.
‘What?’ Mr Bunyan squeaked.
‘Your face – it’s coming apart,’
Millie said. ‘Millie!’ Alice-Miranda chided from where she had gone to collect her cardigan. When she rejoined the pair, the girl quickly realised that her friend was right. ‘Oh, there is something unusual.’
Mr Bunyan stalked across to the dressing-table mirror, and the girls watched as he pulled a small tube from his pocket. He squeezed a tiny amount of liquid onto his fingers and rubbed at his jawline.
‘What are you doing?’ Millie asked.
‘It’s just some chafing,’ Mr Bunyan replied.
Millie grinned. ‘I get that all the time from riding, but not on my face.’
Bunyan sniffed. ‘How utterly unpleasant.’
‘It’s not that bad,’ Millie said with a shrug. ‘You get used to it.’
Alice-Miranda studied the man’s face. There was something that just didn’t add up. She wished she could work out what it was.
‘I’ll go and get the others, shall I?’ Bunyan said and hurried out the door.
Within a couple of minutes the group was gathered on the landing. As instructed, the children all wore casual clothes, suitable for running about and exploring.
‘Come along, everyone.’ Bunyan turned to lead the way downstairs. ‘You don’t want to keep Her Majesty waiting.’
The breakfast room was a bright and pretty space with lemon-coloured curtains covered in floral sprays, and comfy wicker chairs with matching cushions. Archie and Petunia were dozing in two baskets on the floor, bathed in the morning sunshine. They raised their heads and began to growl as Mr Bunyan and the children walked into the room.
‘Good morning, my darlings.’ Queen Georgiana trilled from where she was sitting at the head of a long white dining table.
‘Hello Aunty Gee.’ Alice-Miranda greeted the woman with a hug, then bounced to the other end of the table and greeted Mrs Marmalade in a similar fashion.
‘Oh, good morning to you too,’ Mrs Marmalade reeled.
Queen Georgiana raised her eyebrows at the woman. ‘Marian, the child gave you a hug, she didn’t thwack you with a cattle prod.’
Marian allowed herself a small smile.
The other children greeted Her Majesty and Mrs Marmalade with a cacophony of good mornings.
The two little beagles scampered out of their baskets and made a beeline for Bunyan, sniffing the man’s legs and barking.
‘Stop that nonsense, Archie, Petunia,’ Her Majesty scolded. She waved the children to sit down. ‘I haven’t a clue what they’re upset about. They never properly bark at anyone.’
‘Except that wretched woman who managed to get into your bedroom the last time we opened the palace for tours,’ Mrs Marmalade said. ‘It was lucky Archie took a nip out of her, or we’d never have found your watch in her pocket.’
‘That’s horrid,’ Alice-Miranda said.
‘Well done, Archie!’ Jacinta said, patting the dog on the head.
‘My mummy says that dogs have an excellent radar for people,’ Millie chimed in. ‘They can always tell if someone’s up to no good.’
Frank Bunyan jumped and began to retreat from the room when Thornton Thripp walked through the door with a newspaper tucked under his arm.
‘Bunyan, I’ll have a white tea.’
The butler hesitated.
Thripp looked at him. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘No, sir.’ Bunyan walked over to the sideboard and picked up the teapot.
‘What’s the matter with the dogs?’ Thornton asked as he sat down.
‘Archie, Petunia, heel,’ Her Majesty commanded, but the beagles seemed intent on investigating Mr Bunyan.
The butler walked over to the table and poured Thornton’s tea, with Archie and Petunia relentlessly sniffing about his heels.
Caprice giggled. She wondered if Louis and Edgar had been painting the soles of the new butler’s shoes too.
Braxton Balfour walked into the room, carrying a large silver tray which he placed in the middle of the table. ‘Scrambled eggs, Ma’am,’ he said.
‘Thank you, Balfour,’ Her Majesty replied. ‘Perhaps Bunyan can help you bring the rest of the food before it’s stone-cold.’
‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Braxton gave a small bow.
Frank Bunyan shook his leg and tried to prise himself free of Petunia, who had latched on to the bottom of his trouser leg.
‘Petunia, stop that at once,’ Queen Georgiana called sharply. The little dog let go and she and Archie scampered back to their baskets.
Frank Bunyan walked out of the room as quickly as he dared and was almost barrelled over by Edgar and Louis. The boys each kissed their grandmother on the cheek and quickly found a place to sit.
‘Goodness me, look at the pair of you,’ Her Majesty tutted. ‘Before you go outside, please attempt to run a comb through those birds’ nests you call hair.’
Louis scratched at the side of his head, making his dark locks even more unruly.
‘The palace feels strange today,’ Jacinta said as she buttered a piece of toast.
‘What do you mean, dear?’ Queen Georgiana asked.
‘Well, sort of empty,’ the girl replied. ‘I suppose now that everyone has gone home, the palace just seems so big.’
‘Oh, yes, that’s exactly why I wanted you all to stay,’ Aunty Gee said before taking a sip of tea. ‘I hate rattling around here on my own. It’s always much nicer when there are children. Well, some children.’
The Queen looked at each of her gran
dsons and waggled her eyebrows.
‘We’re not that bad, Grandmama,’ Edgar said.
‘No, not always,’ she said with a frown, ‘except yesterday afternoon and last night when you were positively deplorable. But I’ll leave your father to deal with you both.’
The boys looked sheepish.
‘Now, how about we start off with a tour of the palace this morning?’ Queen Georgiana suggested.
‘Yes, please!’ Millie clapped her hands together and there was murmur of agreement around the table.
‘Excellent,’ Her Majesty replied.
‘Would we be able to go riding later?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
Jacinta and Sloane both wrinkled their noses. Neither of the girls were big fans of horses.
Queen Georgiana looked at Thornton Thripp, who glanced up from his newspaper and gave a slight shrug. ‘I don’t see why not. Perhaps I can come with you,’ Her Majesty replied.
‘I’d like to see the library,’ Sep suggested. ‘I’ve heard that there are lots of first editions.’
‘Oh, yes!’ Aunty Gee nodded. ‘We have a fabulous collection, and I’m thrilled that someone as young as yourself would want to see it, Sep.’
‘Boring,’ Caprice muttered under her breath.
‘What was that, dear?’ the Queen asked.
‘I said I’d love to see the library too,’ the child said sweetly.
‘What about you, Lucas? Is there anything special that you’d like to do?’ Queen Georgiana asked.
‘I’ve been dying to visit that tower up on the ridge,’ the boy said.
There was a chorus of yesses from the girls and Sep. Edgar and Louis glanced at each other and then at Caprice, who looked as if she was about to say something. Louis ran his finger across his throat and glared at the girl.
‘I haven’t been up there for a long time. I’m not even sure what condition the place is in,’ Her Majesty replied.
‘I think it’s locked up tighter than Fort Knox,’ Thornton Thripp said. ‘Last time I asked Mr Budd about it he said that they’d lost the keys, so it might prove difficult.’
Edgar and Louis smirked at one another.
‘That’s a pity,’ Queen Georgiana said.
‘I would love to have seen it too,’ Alice-Miranda said, slightly disappointed.
As the group munched on their breakfast, Vincent Langley appeared at the door with Marjorie Plunkett close behind.
‘Miss Plunkett to see you, Ma’am.’ The man nodded. ‘And the twins’ mother telephoned to say that she will be here shortly to take them to have their hair cut.’
Langley then retreated from the room.
‘Nooo!’ the boys wailed in unison.
Caprice leaned over towards Edgar. ‘Are you sure you took Langley’s shoes?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ the boy whispered. ‘But maybe Bunyan’s wearing them instead.’
‘I thought that too,’ Caprice replied with a giggle.
Marjorie smiled nervously. ‘Excuse me, Your Majesty, but I was wondering if I might have a word. It’s rather urgent.’
Queen Georgiana pushed back her chair and stood up.
‘Miss Plunkett, I loved that hat Aunty Gee was wearing at the garden party,’ Alice-Miranda piped up.
Marjorie stared blankly at the child.
‘The hat you made?’ Alice-Miranda said.
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ Marjorie replied quickly. ‘It was very pretty.’
‘I found a little piece of peacock fabric in the back hall yesterday afternoon too. I only realised when I looked at it again this morning that it was just like the band from Aunty Gee’s sunhat. I think it fell out of Mr Balfour’s pocket.’
‘Really?’ Marjorie inhaled sharply. She needed to find out exactly what Braxton Balfour knew.
‘Mummy said that you only make hats for Aunty Gee,’ the child continued. ‘You must be so clever. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to make a hat.’
Thornton Thripp stood up and excused himself from the table. As he brushed past Marjorie, he whispered something in her ear. She nodded and waited for Queen Georgiana to stand up.
‘Mrs Marmalade, perhaps you could take the children on the tour of the house until Marjorie and I have finished our business. I’ll come and find you as soon as I can.’
Her Majesty gave the woman a meaningful look, then followed Thornton out the door with Marjorie right behind her. Archie and Petunia scrambled out of their baskets and scampered after them.
‘Right, where shall we go first?’ Mrs Marmalade asked as the children finished their breakfasts.
‘Why don’t we just wander along the corridor and see where we end up?’ Alice-Miranda suggested.
The rest of the children nodded.
Marian Marmalade pinched her nose. ‘That sounds a little … haphazard,’ she said.
‘Oh, Mrs Marmalade –’ Lucas walked up to the woman and offered her his arm – ‘half the fun is not knowing where you might end up.’
The old woman felt a tickly buzz in the corner of her lips. ‘Well, if you say so.’
Lucas turned and winked at his friends behind him.
Jacinta rolled her eyes and the girls giggled.
Marjorie Plunkett sat down opposite Thornton Thripp in Her Majesty’s private study. ‘We’ve received another letter,’ she said, holding up a plastic sleeve.
‘Are you any closer to finding out who’s responsible?’ Her Majesty asked as she pulled a pair of white gloves from the top of her desk drawer and put them on.
‘We may have a DNA sample from one of the envelopes,’ Marjorie replied.
‘What?’ Thornton raised his eyebrows.
Marjorie shook her head. ‘I’d rather not say more until we’ve had time to run some further tests.’
‘I don’t believe there’s any reason to withhold information from Her Majesty,’ Thornton bristled.
‘Quite honestly, I would prefer not to speculate,’ Marjorie replied with a sharp edge to her voice. ‘It’s not helpful.’
‘Agreed.’ Queen Georgiana pulled the letter from the sleeve, laying it on the table. She looked at the note. A deep furrow of lines crisscrossed her forehead. ‘What’s this nonsense?’
Silver will never be gold.
Time to hand over the reigns.
Her Majesty frowned. ‘Well, for one thing, they can’t spell, and thank heavens they’ve stopped that ridiculous rhyming nonsense.’
‘Yes,’ Marjorie said, pursing her lips. ‘At least there’s no reference to Alice-Miranda this time.’
‘What do you think, Thripp?’ The Queen looked at her chief advisor.
‘Perhaps it’s Freddy.’ The man’s eyes widened. ‘He’s keen to get rid of you, isn’t he? “Time to hand over the reigns” sounds like a play on words. Silver could be a reference to your silver jubilee.’
‘That’s preposterous,’ Marjorie retorted.
Queen Georgiana glared. ‘I know my son is a lot of things, Thripp, but I doubt he would go to these lengths to get me to relinquish the crown. He may be a buffoon but he’s a good-hearted one. And, despite my misgivings, I know he will make a suitable king one day.’
Thripp’s eye twitched. ‘Yes, of course, Ma’am.’
Marjorie Plunkett clasped her hands together. ‘I’m confident we’ll find the perpetrator very soon.’
‘Really?’ Thornton said. His eye seemed even twitchier.
‘Everyone makes mistakes, and I’m sure whoever is responsible for the letters will trip up sooner or later,’ Marjorie said.
Thornton nodded. ‘We can only hope.’
‘On a related topic, what are you doing today, Thripp?’ Queen Georgiana asked. ‘I thought you could help me entertain the children for a while.’
Thornton hesitated. ‘I really don’t have time …’ he began.
The Queen arched an eyebrow. ‘We’ve just had the jubilee, and as far as I know there’s nothing too pressing on your plate at the moment.’
Thornton’s shoulders slu
mped. He knew when he was defeated.
‘Wonderful! Let’s find Mrs Marmalade and the children.’ Her Majesty pushed her chair out and stood up. The others were quickly on their feet too. ‘Goodbye, Marjorie, and thank you for taking the lead on this – I wouldn’t want anyone other than the Chief of SPLOD in charge of the investigation. Come along, Thornton.’
The man followed Her Majesty out of the room.
Marjorie Plunkett returned the letter to its plastic sleeve and slipped it down the side of her oversized handbag. She noticed the face of her watch light up and pressed the button on the side to answer. ‘What do you have for me, Fi?’
‘Good morning, ma’am. I’ve run those tests you asked for,’ Fiona replied.
‘And?’ Marjorie hoped this was the breakthrough they were looking for. Fi had been confident that there were traces of saliva on the last envelope.
‘Nothing, ma’am,’ Fi replied.
‘Nothing! Are you sure?’ Marjorie’s earpiece exploded with the harsh crackling of static. The woman’s eyes crossed and she almost leapt out of her skin. ‘What on earth was that?’ Marjorie demanded.
The line went dead.
Marjorie frowned. Nothing like that had ever happened before, and she didn’t have a good feeling about it. She needed to get back to headquarters as quickly as she could.
The children and Mrs Marmalade wound their way through several rooms, ogling the incredible architecture and opulent furnishings. To Sep’s great delight, the boy had located a first edition of Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol in the library, and Mrs Marmalade had found the lad a pair of gloves so that he could examine the book more closely. The rest of the children had taken turns pushing each other on the giant ladder that snaked around the bookshelves on rails.
Upon leaving the library, the group found themselves in an enormous gallery that showcased the best artists of every generation. There was barely a space between each painting.
‘How many artworks does Her Majesty own?’ Lucas asked as he admired a stunning Monet.
‘I believe there are about one hundred and fifty thousand pieces in the royal collection. Paintings, sculptures and the like,’ Mrs Marmalade replied. She was quite enjoying her role as tour guide. ‘Not just here, of course.’
Alice-Miranda at the Palace 11 Page 14
