That dark gaze narrowed as the line slowed while guests were greeted at the entrance to the Queen Anne Room.
“Ye’ll not be pulling one of the swords from the wall will ye now?” Brodie commented.
“I will try to restrain myself,” I replied as we reached the entrance and were greeted by a footman.
“Lady Forsythe and Guest,” he announced.
The ‘guest’ beside me escorted me into the large reception for the German legation.
After Brodie had returned from his meeting with Sir Avery, we had spoken at length about the reception that lay ahead. I had also made a drawing of the palace, even though it had been some years since I had last visited.
I had included the main entrance, the staircase that led to the State Apartments, the Guard Chamber, and the Queen Anne Room.
We had also made a plan for when we arrived.
Sir Avery’s people were to be positioned throughout, posing as guests along with the other attendees, the German legation, the British Prime Minister, the Home Secretary, and other dignitaries.
The Queen was not expected to attend. HRH Edward Albert would be making the formal introduction of the newly appointed German Ambassador, Paul von Hatzfeldt. His Royal Highness would be arriving in a short while.
As we walked around the room, I pointed out those I knew or had heard of through Aunt Antonia.
I avoided most formal functions as they were often boring, stuffy affairs, particularly now with my work with Brodie. I had discovered quite early on, after that first inquiry case, that many were curious about a woman working on private cases.Particularly when there were dreadful crimes, even murder, involved.
The first incident was a supper party my great aunt gave after my sister was found alive and safe.
“Good heavens, the newspaper said that you actually shot the person. However could you do that?”one of her guests had inquired.
“They were escaping,”I had replied, perhaps too bluntly.
My response had halted all conversation at the table, as the woman gaped at me. Burke had written that article. The first of several in our somewhat contentious acquaintance.
“And that gentleman with more hair on his face than on his head is Sir Richard Montfort, a member of Parliament and Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.”
I had made inquiries about him after Adele first mentioned him. However, there was nothing at the time to connect him to any of this. He had an impeccable record.
“An important position,” Brodie replied, thoughtful.
There were others we knew from past cases, including the recently appointed Home Secretary, Sir Herbert Gladstone, who exchanged a cordial greeting with Brodie.
Aunt Antonia was presently in conversation with Lord Salisbury as I caught sight of my brother-in-law James as he escorted my sister toward us.
Linnie glowed in a pale-yellow gown with a high waist that disguised her condition, with her blonde hair swept up on top of her head.
“I knew the purple gown would suit you far better than me,” she commented as she reached my side and smiled a greeting at Brodie.
“Has Aunt Antonia arrived yet?” she inquired.
“She is presently in conversation with Lord Salisbury,” I replied.
“Good heavens,” Linnie exclaimed. “Should we rescue her?”
I glanced across the room. “I believe she has the situation well in hand.”
“I’ve not been here in some time,” Linnie continued as James struck up a conversation with Brodie. “The paintings are magnificent. There are two Rembrandts here, with another in the gallery.”
The Prince of Wales had arrived with Princess Alexandra of Denmark. They greeted officials and guests in a line, exchanging brief conversations. As the line thinned, Linnie and I were joined by Aunt Antonia to make our way to the line and an official greeting.
“The Queen sends her good wishes,” the Prince of Wales told my great aunt.
