Naughty In Nice (A Royal Spyness Mystery)

we have been thrown together in so many different situations that I feel we already know each other. My first name is Jean-Paul, and yours, I gather, is Georgiana. I hope you will treat me as an old chum.”
    I looked up at him and laughed. “I don’t see you as the type of man who would be a chum to anyone, especially not to a woman.”
    “Ah, very astute of you. Wise as well as charming,” he said. “You and I will get along famously.”
    At this point my mother coughed and held out her empty champagne glass to be refilled.
    “And do you know this delightful lady?” Jean-Paul asked me, indicating my mother.
    Mummy shot me a look that said quite clearly Do not tell him that I’m your mother. I weighed up whether to ignore the look, then decided she might throw me out of her villa. I certainly didn’t want to return to the Villa Gloriosa.
    “Yes, I know her well,” I said.
    “She is delightful, is she not? So ravishing. So witty.”
    “Isn’t she,” I replied, “and so generous too. She’s treating me to a lovely time at her villa and she’s promised to buy me a Chanel dinner gown.”
    “But of course. Your figure is made for Chanel. The boyish look. No curves at all. I find it delightfully fresh.” And he looked at me in a way that made me feel quite strange. It was almost as if he were making love to me with his eyes. “When you have decided on the gown, I will take you out to dine and dance in it. It will be a christening ceremony, no?”
    “We probably won’t choose a gown for her until we get back to Paris,” Mummy said in a clipped voice. “Chanel does not carry around suitcases of her clothes, you know.”
    “She can design a dress for you right here, I am sure, if you ask her nicely,” the marquis said. “I know of a good little seamstress who can run it up for her in an instant. Where is Coco? Ah, over there. I shall go and arrange the whole thing for you.”
    And he went. Mummy looked at me half angrily, half admiringly. “I must say, you pulled off that little stunt rather well, didn’t you?”
    “I didn’t tell him you were my mother,” I reminded her. “My silence can be bought.”
    “You’ve grown up,” she said. “That Darcy O’Mara obviously taught you a thing or two.” Then she laughed. “Still, you are more fun this way. I was worried for a while that you’d turn out to be boring. And I rather believe the gentleman is interested in you.”
    “Do you think so?”
    “Darling, he was positively undressing you with his eyes. But beware. He’s not an Englishman. He’ll have you into bed before you know what’s happening to you.”
    “Is that what you hoped would happen to you?” I asked.
    “You are becoming very cheeky,” she said, but she laughed again. Then she sighed. “I must admit that a little fling might add some spice to my dreary little life. I do sometimes long for someone with a little more joie de vivre than Max. He can be so boring out of the bedroom.”
    “The fact that you don’t speak German and he doesn’t speak much English hardly makes for witty conversation.”
    The casino was becoming more and more crowded. People came up to me to inquire about my health, to offer commiserations on my accident and to speculate about the missing necklace. I began to feel uncomfortable, almost claustrophobic, so I eased myself through the crowd until I was standing among the potted palms by the wall. The room was packed with elegant and rich people, all of whom appeared to know each other and were chatting away merrily. I looked longingly at the entrance and wondered if I could slip away. What was I doing here? I didn’t belong among these people. The problem was that I didn’t know where I wanted to be. Certainly not at home in Scotland, and not trying to fend for myself in London either. It struck me that I hadn’t yet found my niche in life.
    At that moment a couple approached me. At first I thought they were a romantic couple, moving into the shadows among the palms to be alone. But then the woman turned to the man and said, “How dare you.” She almost hissed the words. “You’re a swine, Toby.”
    And I saw that it was indeed Sir Toby Groper, and Lady Groper with him. Had she discovered the mistress, I wondered. I hastily ducked back into the alcove, shielded by a potted palm tree.
    Sir Toby turned back to her and I saw that he was grinning. “Haven’t you heard the old saying, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander?”