“You are terrible. And I don’t see what I can do to distract them. I don’t even know my own way around.”
“They’re going to ruin everything if they are left loose,” Darcy said. “For God’s sake try to keep an eye on them.”
“I will,” I said.
“Oh, and Georgie,” he said, reaching out his hand to me as I turned away. “Take care of yourself. Someone in this castle has already been killed.”
I considered that statement as I went slowly down the hall to my room. Someone in this castle was a ruthless killer. Not that the killing affected me in any way. It had to be of a political nature, carried out by someone who either wished to cause trouble between Balkan states or was a communist or anarchist. Maybe our own government suspected that trouble was likely and that was why they had sent Darcy—one never knew with him. But such a killer wouldn’t pose any threat to someone like me, who was only thirty-fourth in line to a distant throne. But I had been threatened in a different way, hadn’t I? The vampire bending over my bed. The strange man in Queenie’s room. I didn’t see how the two could be related. If vampires had wanted to kill Field Marshal Pirin, I imagined they would have done a far more impressive job of it—hurled him from the battlements or sent a great statue crashing onto his head, or even bitten his neck and turned him into one of them. Poisoning with cyanide was all too human a crime. . . .
I was startled from my thoughts by the figure with the raised arm until I realized it was just the suit of armor that had frightened Queenie. Really it was almost as if someone had arranged this castle to provide the maximum amount of shocks to visitors!
In my room I found Queenie, sitting on my bed with a cup of tea in one hand and a biscuit in the other. She didn’t even have the grace to jump up when I came in.
“Whatcher, miss,” she said, attempting feebly to brush the crumbs from the front of her uniform.
“Queenie, you really will have to learn how to address your mistress properly,” I said. “The correct thing to say is, ‘Hello, my lady’ or ‘Welcome back, my lady.’ Is that really too hard to learn?”
“I do try,” she said, making me wonder whether she was a secret bolshie and doing this deliberately to let me know that she was my equal. This then started a whole train of thought in my mind. How much did one really know about servants? She had just shown up on my doorstep and I had no way of knowing who she really was. While I didn’t think that anyone could pretend to be as stupid as she was, maybe the same circumstances were true for other servants in the castle. Maybe one of them had come here with the express purpose of killing Pirin.
“You can help me off with my coat and boots, Queenie,” I said.
“Bob’s yer—yes, me lady,” she said. Maybe there was hope after all.
“Oh, by the way,” she added as she took my coat, “there was a message came for you from the princess. She hoped you were feeling all right because she hadn’t seen you this morning and to remind you that you were supposed to be meeting the other bridal attendants for a dress fitting at ten thirty.”
I glanced at my watch. Ten forty-five. “Oh, golly,” I said. “I’d better get going then. Oh, and give me that dress you scorched. Maybe one of the dressmakers can fix it for me if she has a moment.”
I went back down the various staircases as fast as I dared because the steps were worn and smooth and the going was treacherous. In the great hallway at the bottom I encountered Lady Middlesex and Miss Deer-Harte, still wandering around in their coats.
“We thought we might follow your example and go for a little stroll,” Lady Middlesex said. “Since the snow was apparently not too deep for you.”
“It was lovely out there,” I said, trying to convey enthusiasm. “A walk is a good idea. Good fresh mountain air.” I didn’t add the word “freezing” to that sentence. At least I’d done what Darcy had asked and sent them out of the way for a while. I didn’t think even someone as hearty as Lady Middlesex could take that kind of cold for long,