Naughty In Nice (A Royal Spyness Mystery)

government to develop new military vehicles. Of course, you’re not supposed to know that.”
    “But that might all come to an end for you, if you don’t return to him as commanded,” I pointed out.
    “It might. We’ll see how I feel about him, and what else turns up. Something usually does. Now let’s go and see how they are getting on with those oysters, shall we?”
    I went upstairs to change, wishing that I had smart silk pajamas or a slinky backless dress like the other guests would have. My dresses looked hopelessly unsophisticated and old-fashioned. And I didn’t have the heart to wear the dress I had worn the evening before. It now reminded me too strongly of the police cell and my current predicament. And as far as I could tell, Inspector Lafite still wanted to find me guilty. He was probably working hard at this moment to come up with another piece of incriminating evidence.
    So I was hardly in the mood for a party when I went down to join my mother and the first guests. It appeared that she was right about food and drink enticing people and that those original forty she had invited had all told their friends. More and more people kept arriving. What’s more, they all appeared to know each other, and there were scenes of embracing and murmurs of “darling” this and “darling” that. And it was amazingly informal after the parties I was used to at home. On the rare occasions we gave parties at Castle Rannoch, the guests would be announced by the butler and then greeted formally by the hosts before they were allowed to mingle. It seemed that on the Continent the British really did let down their stuffiness. People came, grabbed drinks from trays and generally made themselves at home without even introducing themselves to the hostess.
    “Do you know all these people?” I whispered to Mummy.
    “Haven’t a clue who they are, darling,” she whispered back, then stretched out her arms dramatically. “Darlings! How lovely that you could come!” she cooed and rushed to greet the newest arrivals.
    I overheard the words “Toby Groper,” “next-door villa” and “murder” and realized that as well as food and drink our place had the added attraction of being next to the murder site. But I didn’t hear any whispers mentioning my name or any quick glances in my direction, for which I was truly grateful. So nobody outside my immediate circle knew that I had been arrested and was the prime suspect. I eavesdropped shamelessly as people speculated who might have done it. The interesting thing was that Toby Groper was clearly not among their set—in fact, he was regarded as a bit of a bounder. Also so rich that it was vulgar.
    “Kept the place absolutely stuffed with bloody antiques and pictures. Like a bloody great mausoleum or art gallery,” I heard one man say. “And didn’t even play a decent game of tennis.”
    I broke off my eavesdropping as someone tapped on my shoulder and was pleased to see Belinda, looking rather stunning in a figure-hugging emerald green dress that made it perfectly clear she was wearing nothing beneath it.
    “What a nice surprise,” I said. “I didn’t realize you were invited.”
    “Of course I wasn’t. But when has that ever deterred me from anything? I overheard some people talking about it in Galeries Lafayette this afternoon. All that lovely free food and drink, darling. One could hardly pass it up, could one? But I’m awfully relieved to see you here, yourself. Last time I saw you, you were being dragged off by a horrid little policeman with a ridiculous mustache. What on earth did he want with you? Was it about the missing necklace?”
    “Worse than that. He thinks I killed our neighbor, Sir Toby.”
    “I heard a rumor that someone had been murdered. So that’s who it was. Toby Groper, eh? Horrid man. Pinched my bottom once. But what in God’s name would make that inspector think that you did it? It’s too ridiculous for words.”
    “I know. It is, but he’s not very bright and extremely pompous and it’s a case of ‘I’m guilty until proven innocent’ to him. I’d still be in a jail cell if it weren’t for Jean-Paul, who bailed me out and found me a lawyer.”
    “How awful. You poor darling. But don’t worry. I’m sure your heavenly marquis knows how to bribe the right people and they’ll sort it out soon. If not, you can simply start waving the royal standard and they’ll have to back down.”
    “I hope so,” I said. I looked