It mesmerized her. How elegance blended seamlessly with tradition and power to produce such a spectacle. It would make anyone appear special if they lived in such a palace, even an average woman who by accident of birth was now the queen.
‘I hate to rush you.’ Mr Sinclair stood ahead and she followed him up the stairs, entering into a long, ornate picture gallery that sprawled in front of them.
Manhattan felt a long way away, both in place and time. Tailcoated footmen walked noiselessly across the thick carpets while two small, brown dogs rounded a far corner, chasing each other into a nearby room.
As she passed the open doorways, she peered inside lavish drawing rooms and even a great banqueting hall, a long table heaving with crystal glasses and silverware ready for a grand event.
‘Where are the thrones?’ she asked, wondering if these things still existed – surely they only did in medieval kingdoms.
Mr Sinclair didn’t even look at her, merely indicating a room to the right. ‘That’s the Throne Room, but I must urge you to hurry.’
Never given to following orders, Miranda paused at the door, gaping at the red, womb-like interior. Long red and gold curtains hung from the ceiling on either side of a raised platform with a hefty gold throne, the pomp and ceremony so effective in its authority.
‘I don’t like to press you,’ the man appeared by her side, ‘but I need to hand out the reportsbeforethe Privy Council convenes.’ His tone was sarcastic. ‘We’re used to doing things in an orderly manner, not making our own rules willy-nilly.’
‘Willy-nilly?’ She laughed. ‘That’s a funny expression.’
‘Whatever it takes to get you to hurry,’ he insisted, although a crook of his eyebrow showed a hint of amusement.
Halfway down the picture gallery, they turned into a light, grand drawing room, a long table placed in the centre, ready for the meeting.
‘This is the 1844 Room,’ he said as he strode around the table, placing some sheets at each chair.
As she waited, three suited middle-aged men entered, pausing at the door as they saw them. Alarmingly, all of them had clipped moustaches.
‘A little late for reports, don’t you think, Sinclair?’ one of them said, picking up the papers and taking a look.
‘I was waylaid.’ He splayed an open hand towards Miranda, as if to say,Told you we had to hurry!‘I had to collect a new recruit from reception.’
Turning his head towards her, the man frowned. ‘And you are...?’
‘Miranda Miller.’ She stepped forward to shake hands.
At once, all three men – plus another two who had arrived at the door – looked at her, horrified.
‘MrMiller?’ the first one demanded, although surely the question was rhetorical – anyone could see that!
‘There must have been a mistake when she was hired,’ Sinclair replied rapidly. ‘I came down expecting a man, and it was, well, her.’
They looked at her curiously, one of them muttering, ‘That’s all we need!’
‘Idohave a lot of experience in organization, getting things done,’she said quickly, panicking internally lest her entire plan be ruined for want of being a man.
One of them coughed. ‘I don’t know what the minister’s going to say about it.’
Dolefully, the others agreed, a shorter man muttering, ‘Someone’s head will be on the block.’
They looked at Sinclair, who quickly said, ‘It’s nothing to do with me. I’m on loan from the Foreign Office. I just got a memo to say that I had to collect him – I mean, her.’
Extraordinarily, one of the older ones guided her to the door sympathetically. ‘There, there, my dear girl, it’s just a misunderstanding. Not your fault at all. Now why don’t you toddle down to the offices, and I’m sure someone will get you a nice cup of tea while we sort this mess out.’
Trying to stop herself from laughing, she muttered, ‘Th-thank you.’ What a patronizing buffoon!
Having finished with the documents, Sinclair opened the door for her. ‘This way, Miss Miller,’ he said, leading her back to the corridor.
Once they were alone, she stifled a laugh. ‘What a to-do, don’t you think?’
He ignored her, evidently perturbed about who would be taking the blame. ‘I have no idea what the minister will say about your being a girl.’
