Naughty In Nice (A Royal Spyness Mystery)

town.”
    “But what about my visit to Sir Toby?” I asked, torn between wanting to do my duty and the thought of Coco Chanel buying me clothes.
    “I think we all agree that you cannot visit him dressed in such unsuitable clothing. Besides, he is probably still snoring, like all good Englishmen.” Coco dismissed this with a wave of her hand. “Just a quick jaunt to Galeries Lafayette for the basics of survival. Later I can take you under my wing properly and get you set up for society.”
    Galeries Lafayette turned out to be a department store in Massena Square—a huge area of red colonnaded buildings with fountains and statues. It was peopled with the most incredibly elegant women and I was horribly conscious of that cotton frock. The assistants almost fell over each other in their haste to reach Chanel. The basics of survival turned out to be a pair of wide-legged white linen trousers, a little navy linen jacket and a striped matelot shirt. “When on the French coast, what else but the look of a French sailor,” Chanel said. “Chic and fun.” She even managed to find me a jaunty French sailor’s hat. When I put them on I had to agree that I did look amazingly chic. Maybe there was hope for me after all.
    As I stepped from the store into the blinding sunlight I almost collided with two women looking at the window display. I went to apologize but before I could utter a word Fig’s sharp voice said, “Georgie, it’s you. What are you wearing? I hardly recognized you.”
    “Thanks,” I said with a satisfied smile. “Coco Chanel just bought the outfit for me at this store.”
    I could positively see their jaws drop. “Coco Chanel? At Galeries Lafayette? What on earth for?” Fig demanded.
    “She’s taken me under her wing.” I tried the Gallic shrug. “It’s good to see you, Fig. I hope all is well at the Villa Gloriosa.”
    Fig frowned. “We’ve been so worried about you. We’ve just heard that you were involved in some kind of scandal last night—a stolen necklace? I did warn you about staying with your mother, didn’t I, Ducky?” Her sister nodded, both of them staring at me as if I was a fallen woman now. “Binky’s quite upset. He thinks you should come back and stay with us immediately.”
    “Thank you for the kind offer, but I prefer a lovely bedroom overlooking the ocean to a camp bed in a library,” I said. At that moment Coco and Vera arrived to join me. “Sorry, I have to run. Madame Chanel doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” I flashed them a brilliant smile. “Isn’t shopping at Galeries Lafayette fun?”

 
    Chapter 18
     
    January 26, 1933
About to visit Sir Toby Groper. Will I have the nerve to
swipe the snuffbox?
     
    I left Mummy, Vera and Coco in town, ready to do battle with the obnoxious Inspector Lafite again, visit jewelers, and snoop around at the casino and station, while Franz, Mummy’s chauffeur, ran me back to the villa.
    I felt a little trepidation as I made my way to Sir Toby’s place, attired in my new ensemble. I had never been a thief before. If I found the snuffbox, would I dare to take it? Another thought crossed my mind as I approached the tall wrought-iron gates. I had heard and seen enough to know about Sir Toby’s ruthlessness and recklessness. If he had dared to pocket a snuffbox from Buckingham Palace, was it possible that he had known the necklace I would be wearing belonged to the queen? Was it also possible that his son was in league with him and together they had managed to steal it? I would have to tread very carefully. Frankly, I almost lost my nerve when I spotted the villa, nestled among umbrella pines.
    It was a low, dazzling white building with an impressive portico of Roman columns. The thought of a vestal virgin going to the sacrifice did cross my mind. I knocked and the door was opened by the young man I had seen that morning. He was now fully clothed—remarkably formally for the Riviera in a dark jacket and striped pants. I tried to put the image of his naked body from my mind.
    “Hello,” I said, trying to sound bright and jaunty. “I’ve come to see Sir Toby.”
    “Whom may I say is calling, miss?” he asked.
    “La—” I started to give my full name, then swallowed it back. “My name’s Georgie. I’m staying at the villa next door and Sir Toby invited me for a swim in his pool or maybe a sail on his yacht.”
    “Please come in and wait while I inform Sir Toby of your arrival,” the young man said formally,