Naughty In Nice (A Royal Spyness Mystery)

he said. “If you want a divorce, my dear, and you’re trying to cite my bad behavior, did you not think I’d send out feelers to uncover yours? And yours is so much more delicious. Everyone expects a man to have a showgirl mistress—but a cabinet member? I could bring down the government if I wanted to.”
    “You wouldn’t dare.”
    “Oh, I dare most things,” he said. “I’ve dared all my life, which is why I’m where I am today. So do your worst, Margaret, my dear. I love a good scrap.”
    “One day you’ll go too far, Toby,” Lady Groper snapped. And she pushed her way through the crowd to the exit. Sir Toby watched her go with that same amused expression on his face. Then he forced his way up to the bar. “Whiskey,” he barked, “and make it a double.”
    I was about to move out of my hiding place when I touched something warm. I gasped and looked around. It appeared I was not alone. A tall, rangy young man with hair flopping boyishly over his forehead was flattened against the wall behind the potted palm. He put his fingers to his lips as Sir Toby walked away, then heaved a sigh of relief.
    “Phew, that was close,” he said. “I didn’t want them to see me. There would have been the most frightful stink.”
    I recognized his voice. “You were the one who helped me up when I fell,” I said. “And then you vanished.”
    He nodded. “When they announced that a necklace had been stolen and the burly policeman made his entrance. I thought it was about time I did a bunk, rather than answer annoying questions.”
    “But how did you get out of the room?”
    “Easy enough. Everyone was watching you. As that large gendarme stepped through the door, I slipped out behind him. I’m rather good at doing that sort of thing.”
    I eyed him suspiciously. “Then you took the necklace.” He grinned. “I’d hardly be likely to confess if I did, would I?”
    “Then why did you try to escape, if you didn’t?”
    “The answer to that is simple, old bean. Didn’t want the dear old mater and pater to know I’m here.” He held out his hand. “I’m Bobby, by the way. Bobby Groper.”
    “Then Sir Toby is your father?”
    “Precisely. And that fierce dragon of a woman is the mater, Lady Margaret. I’m supposed to be up at Oxford, you see.”
    “So what are you doing here?”
    “What everyone else does on the Riviera. Enjoying some fun and sun.” His expression grew somber. “Actually, I got sent down, but the old boy won’t have heard about it yet. So I thought I’d come in person to soften the blow. Do some explaining, y’know. But then the mater showed up and all hell broke loose and I realized that this was not the right time to announce that his son and heir was in disgrace.” He paused, chewing his lip like a little boy. “The old boy’s rather hot on education and all that bosh. I say what’s the point when one is going to inherit rather a lot of money one day, but that’s not how he thinks. He still has the spirit of those dreadful factory-owning ancestors. You know—hard work, elbows to the grindstone, or whatever the saying is.”
    “So you failed your exams, did you?”
    “Not exactly.” He made a face again. “Little matter of a forged check. It’s all the pater’s fault, you know. He keeps me so dashed short of ready cash that I was a bit strapped, and a fellow was rather twisting my arm to pay up some gambling debts—so, well, I only intended to borrow the money until I could cadge some more out of the old man, but the rotter reported me to the master.” He paused, looking at me thoughtfully. “I say, you don’t like roulette, do you?”
    “I’ve never really tried.”
    “It’s frightfully fun. I could teach you.” He looked hopeful.
    “I’m sure you could, but I have no cash to play with. I’m as broke as you are.”
    “I say, that’s damned bad luck. It’s no joke being broke, is it? Especially when the old man is rolling in dough.” He sighed. “Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t very well play tonight. Not with my father mooching around the place. I’ll have to lie low until things calm down and Mama goes home in a huff. I expect someone will offer me a sofa to sleep on.” He gave a cheerful smile. “Well, toodle pip. Good to meet you. Georgiana, isn’t it?”
    “Most people call me Georgie,” I said.
    “Splendid. So if I manage to soften up the old man and he says all is forgiven and invites me to stay at the villa, then maybe