“I’ve seen alotof gowns in family photos, public and private, but never this one. Nor this photo. Where’d you get it? Is it part of the Royal Trust?”
“No. Leslie Ann sent it to me.”
“There’s a reliable source.” He shook his head, waving away the mention of the woman. “What does she want with it?”
“She found it, I think, researching a story she’s doing about your mum or royal weddings. I’m not sure. She wanted to know if the dress was part of the RT.” She placed the phone on the table again. “When your mum, the queen, caught me in her dressing room, I was wearingthis dress. She was very upset. Her maid led me downstairs by my ear—”
“The dress in this picture?” And he could believe that about Mum’s maid, Hilda. She didn’t muck around.
“Hilda told Mum I’d crossed a boundary, entered the queen’s private quarters without permission. The queen was very upset. Mum gave me the dickens and I felt so bad I went back up to apologize. The butler, Greenly, let me in the apartment. He didn’t know what happened. Said the queen was in her room. So I went down the hall to knock on her door but it was ajar. She was on the phone. Still very upset. I heard everything she said. I didn’t know what she was talking about exactly, but I heard her side of the conversation.” She paused, her eyes clouding, her lips pressed together. “Hilda found me again.”
“Blimey. Poor you. Where was I?”
“Still hiding? Playing a video game? I don’t know. Anyway, things became truly ugly. Everyone yelled at me.”
“What was the conversation? Something of national security? What would that have to do with the dress?”
Daffy gazed toward the low-flickering fire. “I’m not sure, but was her conversation something of national security?” She peered at Gus. “Yes, I believe so. I truly do.”
“Like what? Can you remember?” Gus raced through memories for some eighteen-year-old security issue. But he’d been a kid himself. Mum would not have shared government business at the family dinner table.
“No.” Her answer came swift and low. Somehow, he didn’t believe her.
“Why’d you hide in Mum’s dressing room? It’s in the heart of her bedroom.”
“I knew John would never find me there.”
“Brilliant. John and I never messed with Mum’s things.”
“I hid against the wall by the door, covered by dresses. Then I heard you screaming and running from him.” She laughed—a sound he’d never tire of hearing—and pressed her hand to her heart. “I held my breath until I thought I’d pass out. My pulse was pounding so hard. When I thought the coast was clear, I started to sneak out. But the queen’s gowns… They are beautiful. That’s when I saw the blue gown on the floor, discarded without care. The crystal chandelier in the dressing room made the dress sparkle. I had to try it on.”
Gus sat back, listening, looking back through his memories. “And Mum caught you.”
“She dismissed me with a look. She might as well have strung me up in the castle courtyard.”
“Mum has a way about her, I’ll grant you.” He raised his pint, as if saluting the queen. “She must, if she’s to be an effective queen. So is this the secret you alluded to in Florida? Nothing more than catching you in a discarded frock? Doesn’t seem like much of a secret.”
Daffy reached for her wine goblet. “I guess not. I overreacted.”
“But you heard a phone call.” Gus tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “Seems there’s something you’re trying hard not to say.”
“The ribs were delicious, weren’t they?”
“Daffy…”
Ernst popped by just then with his staccato gusto. “Friends. More?”
“Not me.” Daffy patted her middle. “Do give Stella my regards. Delicious.”
“Pudding?”
Gus avoided puddings. No need to return to his Prince Pudgy days. But theBeast did have a splendid apple tart. When he suggested it, Daffy heartily agreed.
“I’ll be up a half stone by the time I go home,” she said.
“But good.” The cherub proprietor tapped his finger on his nose.
“Ernst.” Gus nodded toward Hemstead. “The man by the door. Serve him whatever he wants and add it to my bill.”
