by Rhys Bowen
We entered a wood-paneled foyer, hung with family portraits and the occasional, obligatory pair of crossed swords and frayed standard from some long-ago battle.
“I’m afraid you’re too late for lunch,” she went on, “and tea won’t be for another hour. But I expect you’re starving. How about some sandwiches and lemonade out on the back lawn? Or do you want to see your rooms first? We’ve sent someone to meet the train with your luggage so you should be able to change as soon as it arrives.”
She paused for breath. I realized she had asked about a dozen questions and hadn’t waited for a single answer. I tried to remember what the choices had been.
“There’s not much point in going up to our rooms before our maids and our luggage arrive,” I said, “so some lemonade on the lawn would be lovely.”
“I don’t know where everyone else has got to,” she said. “They may be playing tennis, although it’s rather hot for it today, wouldn’t you say? I expect Fiona is with her American cousins. You remember my daughter, Fiona, don’t you? I know you two girls were at that fearfully expensive school together.”
It’s funny how outsiders always give themselves away as being “not one of us.” People I knew would never consider whether a school was expensive or not. If it was the right school and the rest of the family had been there, one bit the bullet and paid for it somehow.
Lady Cromer-Strode (I presume it was she although there had never been proper introductions) now led us through a series of dark paneled rooms and galleries until we came to a charming drawing room with lots of low, comfortable armchairs and French doors opening onto lawns. Chairs and tables had been set up in the shade of an enormous copper beech in the middle of the lawn and several people were sitting there. They looked up as we came out onto the terrace and down the steps to the lawn.
“Here they are. They have arrived,” Lady Cromer-Strode announced to the world.
The young men rose awkwardly from their deck chairs. It is never easy to get out of a deck chair gracefully. “Everybody, this is Lady Georgiana and Princess Hannelore. They’re going to be joining our jolly little gathering. Won’t that be fun?”
“And may I present Baroness Rottenmeister, who is accompanying the princess,” I said, since she had been ignored by our hostess until now and was hovering behind us, looking decidedly out of sorts.
“What-ho, Georgie. Good to see you again.” One of the young men revealed himself to be Gussie Gormsley. “And you, Your Highness.”
“Please, call me Hanni. We are among friends,” she said.
Fiona Cromer-Strode, large and pink, came to embrace me. She was carrying a tennis racquet and looked revoltingly hearty. “How absolutely lovely to see you again, Georgie. Doesn’t it seem simply ages since we were at Les Oiseaux? Wasn’t it simply ripping fun?”
“Yes, it was.” Fiona and I had scarcely known each other at Les Oiseaux, but now I remembered she had always been annoying.
“This my cousin Jensen Hedley,” she said. “She’s visiting from Baltimore. Her two sisters are away for the day, visiting Cambridge, but you’ll meet them at dinner tonight.”
The pale, elegant young American, wearing a dress that could only have come from Paris, smiled charmingly. “Gee, I’ve always wanted to meet a real princess,” she said and shook Hanni’s hand.
“I thought you were more interested in meeting a prince,” Fiona teased.
“All the princes around here seem to be otherwise occupied,” Jensen said and gave a quick glance over her shoulder.
Mrs. Simpson was lounging in the shade behind us, wearing white shorts and a bright red halter top and apparently reading a magazine. She hadn’t bothered to move when we arrived. Now she felt eyes on her and looked up.
“Why, it’s the actress’s daughter,” she said, in feigned surprise. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“The queen suggested it so that she could keep an eye on us from Sandringham,” I said. “We are apparently close to Sandringham, as you probably know.” I smiled sweetly.
Her eyes narrowed, then focused on Hanni. “And who is the pretty little blond girl?”
“Her Royal Highness Princess Hannelore of Bavaria,” I said, stiffly. “Highness, this lady is Mrs. Simpson, also visiting from America.”
“I love America.” Hanni was beaming. “Do you have gangsters in your town?”
“I sincerely hope not,” Mrs. Simpson said. “Baltimore is a refined and old city. Our hostess and I went to the ladies’ seminary together there. The very same school that the Misses Hedley also attended. Isn’t that right, Jensen honey?”
“Reagan and I attended the seminary,” Jensen said. “Danika was educated at home, on account of her delicate health.”
Reagan, Jensen, Danika, Wallis—was nobody in America called plain Jane or Mary?
“Such interesting names,” I commented.
“We also have a brother, Homer,” Jensen said.
“Ah, so you have a parent interested in the classics?” I asked.
She wrinkled that button of a nose, frowning. “No. Daddy likes baseball.”
“So how is your dear mother?” Mrs. Simpson asked me. “Still keeping herself busy in Germany?”
“She comes and goes,” I said. “I saw her recently in good health, thank you.”
“She has staying power, I’ll say that for her. Still, I suppose that tough upbringing on the streets has given her resilience.”
“Surviving Castle Rannoch would have given her more resilience,” I said, not willing to be drawn into a spat. “The rooms there are much colder and bleaker than my grandparents’ house.” I went to move away, then couldn’t resist asking, “Are you here with Mr. Simpson?”
A frown crossed the perfectly made up face. “Regrettably, he has been called back to America on business.”
“Dear me. What a pity.” I gave her a sweet smile and realized that she no longer intimidated me. At least adversity does have some advantages.
Lemonade and sandwiches arrived. Jensen Hedley dragged off Gussie to play tennis. The baroness parked herself in one of the deck chairs and promptly tucked into the sandwiches. They looked so tempting—egg and cress, crab and cucumber and even smoked salmon, my favorite—that I was about to join her when a man in wrinkled cricket whites came sauntering across the lawns. He had a red, weathered face surrounded by a halo of wispy white hair and childishly innocent eyes. What’s more, I recognized him. His was the face that had peered over the bush when we arrived.
Chapter 25
Dippings, Norfolk
Saturday, June 18, 1932
The elderly man gave no indication of having recognized us, however, and came toward us with a big smile on his face. “Well, well. Here they are. Spendid. Splendid. Cromer-Strode.” He shook our hands heartily. “And I met you when you were a little girl,” he added to me. “At Hubert Anstruther’s. I believe your mother was—”
“Married to him at the time,” I finished for him, still not quite able to look him in the eye. I couldn’t stop wondering who had provided those other pink arms and legs in the bushes and whether Lady Cromer-Strode knew anything about it.
“And this delightful young person is our visiting princess.” Lord Cromer-Strode turned his attention to Hanni. “Is this your first experience of an English country house, Highness?” He took her hand, pressing it between his.
“Yes, it is my first visit to England,” she said.
“Then you must let me give you a tour of the grounds,” he went on. “Give you a feel for the place. Dippings is noted for its sublime landscapes and the rose garden is in all the guide books. We have trippers clamoring to take a look almost daily. Come along, drink up that lemonade and we’ll have time for a turn before tea.”
A turn at what? I wondered. A feel for which place? Did he make a habit of such behavior? I wondered if I was being invited along as chaperone.
“We’ll leave my daughter and Lady Georgiana to catch up on news, shall we?” he went on, making it perf
ectly clear that I wasn’t. “They have hardly seen each other since schooldays. Off we go then.”
He put an arm around her waist and shepherded her away. I stood there in an agony of indecision. Could I come up with an excuse to go after them? Surely even the most randy of old men would not try anything with a visiting princess, would he? I could already hear the queen’s voice ringing in my ears; And you just sat there and allowed her to be deflowered in broad daylight? Germany will declare war and it will all be your fault.
If I see them heading toward the rhododendron shrubbery, I’ll go after them, I decided.
“Isn’t it spiffing fun that we’re together again, Georgie?” Fiona came to stand beside me. I remembered she always was on the hearty side.
“I’m not sure whether I should be letting the princess go off unchaperoned,” I said as the two figures disappeared around the side of the house.
“Don’t be silly, she’s with Daddy. He’ll take really, really good care of her,” Fiona said. Like other members of our class, she didn’t say her r’s properly. The words came out as “weely, weely.” With her I suspected it was affectation. She slipped her arm through mine. “Why don’t we go for a little walk too? We have some darling, darling little woolly lambs at the home farm. Well, they’re rather fat and jolly now but they were absolutely darling a month or so ago.”
Since the home farm was in the same general direction that the princess had taken I agreed to this.
“Isn’t it too, too lovely to be together again?” Fiona said. “I know we’re going to have such a jolly time. Mummy has invited lots of absolutely topping people and it’s going to be splendid fun.”
I managed a happy smile.
“Have you heard my news?” Fiona said. “Did you know I am engaged to be married?”
“No, I didn’t. Congratulations. Who is the lucky man?”
“Why, it’s dear Edward.”
“Edward?”
“Surely you know him. Everybody does. Edward Fotheringay.”
“Lunghi Fungy, you mean?” I blurted the words out.
“I don’t like that silly nickname. I have forbidden Gussie to address him in that way. But I’m so glad you know him. Isn’t he wonderful? Everybody adores him.”
Including my mother, I thought. And from what I saw, he reciprocated the sentiments.
“And is Edward here at the moment?” I asked casually.
“Of course he is. We couldn’t have a house party and not invite Edward, could we? He has driven my American cousins into Cambridge today, seeing that he was a student there and can show them around properly.”
Given his behavior with my mother and his flirtation with Hanni, I wondered just what else he might be showing them during the course of the day.
“But they’ll all be back in time for dinner,” Fiona continued merrily. “Ah, here we are. This is the home farm. Isn’t it absolutely sweet? Almost like a toy farm. I’ve always adored it. And Daddy loves it so much. He spends most of his time here, just talking to the pigs.”
I snorted. I couldn’t help it. I know a lady never snorts but it just came out. The pink image from the shrubbery was simply too strong. So his family thought that he spent all his time at the home farm, did they?
By the time we returned to the house our luggage and maids were installed in our bedrooms. I found that Hanni had come back, apparently unscathed, before me and was talking with the baroness in her room, while the silent, scowling Irmgardt scurried around, unpacking trunks.
“And how was your walk?” I asked cautiously.
“I enjoy very much,” Hanni said. “He is very kind man. Very friendly. We had to climb over stool, is it called?”
“Stool?”
“Between fields.”
“Stile,” I said. “You mean steps over a wall?”
“Yes. We climb over stile and he was kind enough to lift me up and down.”
And do a little incidental groping, I thought.
“The princess’s room is most satisfactory,” the baroness said. “I understand your room is next door. My room is not so pleasant, I regret to say. At the back of the house, facing north, up flights of very steep stairs.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Should we speak to Lady Cromer-Strode about it?”
The baroness sighed. “I am prepared to suffer,” she said. “Obviously a German title means nothing to these people. I am treated like a maid.”
“Perhaps they are not aware of your rank,” I said. “The queen arranged this and she may not even have been aware that you would be accompanying us.”
“That could be true,” she said, “especially if you did not remind Her Majesty that I was staying with you.”
So I was to be the guilty one. “I’ll try and have your room changed for you.”
“Please do not derange yourself. I shall suffer. The extra stairs shall be good for my fitness.”
“I haven’t even seen my own room yet,” I said. “It may not be as pleasant as this one. I’ll call for you when it’s teatime, shall I?”
“Teatime? I thought we just ate on the lawn.”
“That was a snack to keep us going until tea,” I said.
“At least we are to be fed properly here,” the baroness commented as I left Hanni’s room. Mildred had already unpacked everything was busy pressing out every crease. Truly she was a marvel. I couldn’t think why I’d be so relieved to get rid of her again.
“What a delightful view from your window, my lady,” she said excitedly. “I’m sure you are going to have such a happy time here. And I see there are some attractive young men. I passed one of them in the hall just now. Very handsome and quite flirtatious too. He actually winked at me.” And she blushed.
At four o’clock we made our way down for tea, which was held in the long gallery. Lady Cromer-Strode was wafting around gushing and officiating. “Do try the Victoria sponge. It is Cook’s specialty. And those little crunchy things. Divine. I don’t know where my husband can have gotten to. Up at the farm again, I suspect. He puts in far too many hours on that farm. Absolutely dedicated, isn’t he, Fiona, honey?”
Fiona agreed. I rather fancied I saw meaningful glances pass between some of the guests and wondered which ones of them had been taken on visits to the farm. We tucked in well even though it was only an hour since we’d eaten sandwiches. Isn’t it remarkable what fresh air will do for the appetite? There were the most delicious scones with thick cream and homemade strawberry jam as well as brandy snaps and cream puffs that were so light they melted in the mouth. Obviously the baroness was going to be very happy here. One by one the other guests drifted in. Jensen and some other tennis players. A young man I thought I recognized came to sit beside me.
“Hello, I’m Felix,” he said. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Georgiana,” I replied. “And I think I saw you at Gussie’s party the other night.”
“The fateful one when poor old Tubby toppled?”
I nodded.
“That was a rum do, wasn’t it? Who’d have thought poor old Tubby?”
“Does Gussie give a lot of these parties?”
“Oh, all the time, old bean. The host with the most is our Gussie.”
“He must have a good allowance. The champagne and cocktails were positively flowing,” I said awkwardly. One of the rules of our set was not to discuss money, but in my role as sleuth, I rather needed to know where Gussie acquired his.
“Well, I don’t know about allowance, but he does all right by himself, old Gussie,” Felix said guardedly. “One way and another.” There was something in the way he said it that made me wonder about that cocaine. I had thought of Gussie as the genial host, but what if he supplemented his income by supplying his friends with drugs?
“You were at Cambridge with him, were you?” I asked.
His face lit up. “Oh, absolutely. All Trinity men. We rowed in those days. Not anymore. Gone to seed rather.”
“So what do you do now?” I asked.<
br />
“Not much, really—to the despair of the pater. Haven’t found my niche in life yet. Wasn’t cut out for the army or the law or the church and there’s not much else left, is there?”
I agreed that there wasn’t.
“So how about you? Are you one of those fearsome bright girls who went to university?”
“I’m afraid not. Although I’d quite like to have gone, but it wasn’t offered.”
Felix nodded in sympathy. “Hard times, I know. Everybody penny pinching. So I suppose you were forced to go out and earn your own living?”
“I wasn’t allowed to, actually. It was frowned upon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not considered suitable.”
At this moment Gussie sauntered over. “So you’ve met Georgie, have you? Jolly good. So I hear the relatives have also arrived for a few days. Shall you be visiting?”
“Relatives?” Felix asked.
“King and queen, old chap. Don’t be so dense. She’s Binky’s sister.”
Felix turned bright pink. “Oh, I say. I’ve put my foot in it rather, haven’t I? Talking about penny pinching and having to work for a living?”
I laughed. “We’re penny pinching like everyone else, and I’d love to work for a living.”
“There’s a splendid girl staying here who’s doing frightfully well in her own business. I’m terribly admiring,” Felix said. “Oh, here she is now.”
Belinda entered the room, deep in conversation with his lordship. From the chatty way that they parted, I found my suspicions running riot. She saw me and came straight over.
“Darling, what a lovely surprise. I had no idea you’d be part of this bun fight.”
“Belinda, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“Darling, have you ever known me to turn down a free meal? I told you I was going to the country. One simply can’t stay in London when the weather turns warm.”