“Ye were filled with righteous anger,” he replied. “At myself, her ladyship, and threatened to unman me.”
I slipped an arm about his neck and gently angled him closer. I did consider his proposal.
“So much the better that I did not.”
Yet, I knew him better than he cared to admit. There was nothing I could say, or do, that would prevent him going to the reception. Just as there was nothing he could say that would prevent me.
He pulled me against him, and I felt the anger and the words that he forced back in his hands and the kiss that followed.
Then, unexpectedly, he set me from him.
He had requested the service of Mr. Tavers for the evening. The coach waited as we arrived on the sidewalk below the office.
“Might I say, Mr. Brodie, that you look like a regular toff,” Mr. Cavendish commented and received a glare. He grinned. “And Lady Forsythe is like a purple rose.”
“When have you ever seen a purple rose?” I inquired.
“I must admit that I have not. Miss Effie is fond of red roses. But I imagine that is what you would look like.”
St. James's Palace was in Westminster, not far from the Strand, separated by the Mall that ran between the Palace and St. James's Park.
The evening congestion of the Strand had thinned, and we soon joined the line of private coaches along the parkway lit by gas lampposts, then turned onto the Mall, that was lit as well as the palace. Each carriage and coach in turn approached the main entrance.
St. James's Palace was built more than four hundred years earlier, with three-story red-brick wings that stretched the length of the Mall. At the main entrance was the five-story tower, with an enormous gilt clock rumored to have been a gift from Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn. That was, of course, before he had her beheaded.
While Aunt Antonia had never known the man, due to those five hundred years between, she had not cared for him.
“It is a good thing we are not related,” she had once stated. “William might have been a philanderer, but he was not in the habit of beheading his wives so that he could marry another.”
She was referring to William I of Normandy, our family ancestor. I was not at all certain of the source of her information, but she had been quite adamant about Henry.
“And you must admit that Sir William was far more appealing than Henry. One does wonder how he ever managed to sire children!”
There had been more, specifically to the conversation, as part of my education about the Sword Room at Sussex Square. However, she carefully censored it in consideration of my young age at the time.
There was a portrait of our mutual ancestor that she had brought from the old fortress, and I had to admit that he was a great deal more appealing than King Henry, who was quite...portly.
We eventually arrived at the entrance and departed the coach.
“Ye will remain,” Brodie informed Mr. Tavers, who nodded, then guided the team to the open Mall where other drivers had gathered with their rigs.
Brodie then took my arm and escorted me to the well-guarded tower entrance, where I presented my invitation to the reception. The attendant nodded, and we then entered the formal entrance to St. James's Palace.
The reception, small by comparison to other Royal events, was to be in the Queen Anne Room. We were directed to the Grand Staircase that led to the State Apartments.
Brodie and I had both been inside the royal residence of HRH the Prince of Wales during a previous investigation. However, St. James's Palace was far larger, and the royal residence of the Queen at one time, before she chose to live at Buckingham Palace.
It was considerably more ostentatious, as befitted a monarch, with red carpet, gold balustrades on the grand double staircase, and dozens of gilt-framed portraits of kings and queens over the past four hundred years.
“Wot, no portrait of yer own ancestor?” Brodie commented.
“That was a few hundred years earlier,” I replied. “He was quite busy conquering, here briefly, and then departed for France.”
At the top of the first floor was the Guard Chamber, which then led to the Queen Anne Room as well as other State Apartments.
The Guard Chamber contained countless weapons from over the past four hundred years mounted on the walls, one in a particular starburst design with a war shield at the center. We passed glass cases that contained ancient firearms as we followed the procession of guests.
“I was extremely impressed when I first visited the Guard Chamber several years ago.”
