Royal Blood - By Rhys Bowen Page 0,71
don’t you?”
Belinda frowned. “Oh, yes. Anton deserted me to rush to the side of his papa. And they all seemed to be heading for the sickroom of that awful man Pirin.”
“Pirin’s now on his way to hospital, thank goodness,” I said, feeling strange about lying to my best friend.
“So why aren’t you at the dress fitting?”
“I went first. And I have such a perfect lack of figure that not much alteration was involved.”
“Good, then you and I can do something fun together. What shall it be?” She got up and slipped her arm through mine. “Not that this is the sort of place that I consider to be fun. No casino, no shops. Thank God for sex, or I’d be bored to tears.”
“Belinda! You really shouldn’t say things like that where they can be overheard.”
She laughed. “There’s nobody in the room but the two of us. Besides, it’s the truth.”
“You were the one who wanted to come here,” I reminded her.
“Well, it did seem like a good lark at the time,” she said. “And I have to admit that Anton is rather scrumptious. But now his parents are here, I’m afraid he’ll have to behave like a good little boy. So what shall it be? Do you want to go and look for your vampires? We could find where their coffins are stored.”
“Stop teasing. I know what I saw, why won’t anyone else believe me?”
“But darling, of course I believe you, and I’m dying to meet a vampire.” She attempted to drag me from the room.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t come anywhere with you at the moment,” I said. “I have to meet—” I stopped hastily. Of course I couldn’t tell her that I had to meet the princes or she’d want to come along. “Lady Middlesex,” I finished. “I have to meet Lady Middlesex and Miss Deer-Harte.” I tried desperately to think of a reason for this meeting that would sound unappealing to Belinda. “She’s writing a history of Sandringham House and she wants my insights.”
Belinda wrinkled her nose. “I think I’ll go and take a long bath so I can try out my new Parisian bath beads. The bathrooms seem to be unoccupied at this time of day. Toodle-pip.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, put a slice of cheese onto a roll and fled. I arrived at the library to find that the others were already assembled, sitting around a big oval mahogany table in the center of an impressive if gloomy library. Shelves of leather-bound volumes rose into darkness, and a gallery circled the library at about twelve feet above our heads. High, narrow windows threw shafts of sunlight onto the floor, illuminating the dust motes. There was a pervading smell of must, dust and old books. I took the empty chair next to Lady Middlesex and opposite Nicholas and Dragomir.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said. “I got held up by—” I broke off as I noticed that there was one person at the table I hadn’t expected. Prince Siegfried was sitting beside Dragomir.
“Lady Georgiana.” He nodded his head.
I looked at Nicholas. He raised his eyebrows. “Siegfried sensed that something was wrong and insisted on seeing Field Marshal Pirin, so naturally I had to tell him the truth and apologize for our secrecy in keeping this matter hushed up.”
Siegfried pursed those cod lips. “This most serious matter was brought to my attention, and I now have to decide whether it should be brought out into the open, or kept from my parents.”
I glanced at Dragomir. Had he been the one who had spilled the beans to Siegfried? And if he was the murderer, would that have been a wise thing to do?
“I have explained to His Highness the delicacy of the situation regarding the stability of my nation and the Balkans as a whole,” Nicholas said in a clipped voice. It was clear there had been an argument about this already.
“And I have explained to His Highness that this is my country and I have to make sure that we behave as we would expect any citizen to behave—and that includes reporting a murder to the proper authorities.”
“Obviously we may have to do that eventually,” Anton said in a soothing manner, “but if we can solve it among ourselves here, then nobody else needs to know and the wedding can take place as planned. Surely that is what you wish, Siegfried?”
“Of course.”
Dragomir cleared his throat. “But surely the simplest thing to do would be to claim that a