Naughty In Nice (A Royal Spyness Mystery)

next to yours. I look down with envy on your lovely swimming pool.”
    “I keep it at eighty-four degrees,” he said. “Like a bath. You must come and swim in it sometime.”
    “Really? Do you mean that? I say, thanks awfully,” I replied. “It’s very kind of you.”
    “Not at all. A young lady like yourself will enhance the scene for me.” He paused, regarding me rather unpleasantly. “So you’re staying with the famous Claire Daniels, are you? What do you think of her? Everyone talks about her great sex appeal but I don’t see it myself. Looking her age, I’d say.” He leaned closer to me. “So tell me, is there still a man in the picture? That German fellow? Haven’t seen him around.”
    “He’s at home in Germany, working,” I said, “but she remains devoted to him.”
    “Can’t see why, myself,” he said. “The man is a boor, a bloody great boor. But I must say she has good taste in guests. What is your name, little lady?”
    “My friends call me Georgie,” I replied coyly, I hoped. I didn’t think it was the occasion to reveal my full identity, since he’d just trashed my mother and stolen from my royal kin.
    “Well, then, Miss Georgie, I hope you’ll come down and swim in my pool one day soon. And maybe we could go for a spin on my yacht.”
    “Could we really? I adore yachts.” I wasn’t sure if I was overdoing it.
    “Then it’s settled,” he said. “Come over and I’ll take you out on the yacht tomorrow. Come anytime you like. I’ll have the crew standing by.”
    “That’s so kind of you, Sir Toby,” I said. “I’m really looking forward to it.”
    “Not at all. Delighted to help out. See you tomorrow then.”
    I gave myself a pat on the back as I left. I had positively had him eating out of my hand. Now if I could just find out if he had the queen’s snuffbox at the villa, it should be an easy enough matter to slip inside and pinch it when I went down for a swim. Suddenly I felt very daring and worldly. I had flirted with a dashing marquis. I had been invited out by two English boys and wangled an invitation from Sir Toby. All in all a good evening—apart from falling off a runway, losing the queen’s necklace and seeing Darcy.
    I came home to find Queenie waiting up loyally for once.
    “My feet are killing me,” I sighed as I flopped onto the bed.
    “You can soak them in that little footbath as soon as I remove your smalls. I have been washing them out in it,” Queenie said.
    “Footbath?”
    “In the bathroom. Ever so handy it is. I was thinking of going down to the seashore tomorrow to see if I could catch some crabs. We could keep ’em in there until they’re wanted.”
    With curiosity I followed her into the bathroom. There were my underclothes soaking in the bidet!
    “Queenie, that’s not exactly a footbath,” I said.
    She looked puzzled. “Then what is it for? It’s not a toilet. It’s too low for a basin.”
    “It’s—” I said. “This is France. You figure it out.”

 
    Chapter 16
     
    Villa Marguerite
January 26, 1933
Today I go for a sail on Sir Toby’s yacht and with any luck I
return with the queen’s snuffbox.
     
    I woke to find Queenie bending over me, a tea tray in her hands.
    “I figured it out, miss. It’s for yer bum, ain’t it?”
    “Absolutely right, Queenie.” I got up laughing. It was still early and the sea looked like polished pearl with wisps of haze hanging over it. I dressed and went out to walk in the gardens. The air was crisp but not cold. I came out onto a lower lawn area and found I could look down at Sir Toby’s swimming pool. The French doors of his villa were still firmly shut. But even as I watched, one of the doors opened. A young man came out and stood on the terrace. For a moment I thought it was Bobby and he had placated his father after all. But then I saw that this young man was less boyish looking, less English looking, with slicked-back hair and the face of a Romantic poet—a Roman nose and a sallow complexion. He stood outside the French doors, staring out at the swimming pool. For a long while he didn’t move, just standing and staring, then he untied the terry robe he was wearing and let it fall to his feet. I was shocked to see that he had nothing on under that robe. I knew I shouldn’t look, but frankly I was fascinated. I’d never had a chance to observe a naked man at my leisure before. Actually, I’d never had a chance to observe a naked man at all. And this one was