Naughty In Nice (A Royal Spyness Mystery)

tacky. I had been set up to stumble and trip. And cleverly too. Someone had painted a substance on the sole of my shoe—some kind of glue, and maybe a varnish over it. The first few steps would have been fine but as the outer hard layer was breached, then the tacky substance would have rooted me to the floor. It seemed more and more likely that someone knew I’d be wearing the queen’s necklace tonight and had planned a very clever robbery.

 
    Chapter 14
     
    Still January 25 and still at the casino
Wishing I could be somewhere else.
     
    I really didn’t want to go to the casino. Frankly I wanted to go home and straight to bed. I never wanted to face any of these people again. But Coco was insistent. “You think this is a big thing, but I say it is a trifle. If this is the worst thing that happens to you in your life, then you are lucky. I had to suffer the death of the man I loved. That was so painful that anything else since means nothing.”
    Of course my thoughts went instantly to that image of Darcy on the beach holding hands with a child and smiling down at the woman with long dark hair. Chanel was right. Nothing could be as painful as that. I put on more comfortable shoes, wrapping the high-heeled wedges with the tacky sole carefully in the suitcase I had brought with me. Then I toned down my stage makeup and we joined Vera, who was waiting for us at the doorway.
    “Your mother went on ahead,” she said. “She said she’d open the champagne.”
    “I really don’t see how we can drink champagne when we have lost the queen’s necklace,” I said. “She will be furious. You know how she prizes her possessions.”
    Vera nodded. “I know. I feel rotten, knowing I’ve let her down when I promised her so faithfully that I’d take care of her jewels. I still don’t see how anyone can have taken the damned thing. It must have been someone supernatural who vanished into thin air.”
    “Or a very clever professional thief,” Coco said.
    “I feel I should be doing something, but I have no idea what,” Vera said. “I have no confidence in that inspector. The man appears to be a bumbling fool. Do you not know anyone in the Sûreté in Paris, Coco? Someone we could ask to come down and take over this delicate matter with as little scandal as possible?”
    Coco shrugged. “Yes, I have friends at the Sûreté, but they can’t just come and take over,” she said. “It is like your Scotland Yard. They have to be invited by the local police and I do not think this little man would welcome outside interference, do you?”
    “Then we must try to recover the necklace ourselves,” Vera said. “Keep your eyes and ears open, Georgiana. Someone must have seen something pertinent when you fell.”
    “I’m afraid they were looking more at the spectacle of me sprawled over the poor Russian princess and then the Prince of Wales helping me to my feet. But I will keep my ears open for the young man who disappeared. I know what he sounded like even though I only have the vaguest impression of what he looked like.”
    Coco went ahead across the hall and into the casino. Chandeliers sparkled in the glass dome above. The place was already packed and the panic I always feel in crowds rose up in my throat. It was so elegant and so glittering—quite unlike the dreary world I usually lived in. Coco pushed us through the crowd to find my mother and the champagne. As soon as I spotted her, I saw the reason for her early departure. She was standing with the Marquis de Ronchard, looking up at him with an entranced expression on her face. I had seen that expression before. It might have seemed soft and feminine, but it was really the expression of a tigress on the prowl. Few men could resist my mother.
    I felt a stab of annoyance. I didn’t really want the marquis to like me, did I? But it was galling to know that Mummy had instant sex appeal that always seemed to work, while I had inherited none of it. At that moment the marquis turned and saw me. His eyes lit up. “Ah, ma chérie . You have come. I hoped you would. You are putting on the brave face. So English.” He came over to me and took my arm. “Have you recovered from your ordeal? Come, let us find the champagne.” He led me up to the bar and snapped his fingers. Champagne was produced and poured.
    “I know we have not been formally introduced and as a British noble lady you obviously find this reprehensible,” he said, not taking his eyes off me, “but