Abruptly, one of the doors swung open, bright lights putting Sinclair into the spotlight as he stepped in front of Miranda and into the opening, forcing the other man back.
‘Thank goodness you came, Mr Chambers. The door jammed, and I’ve been trapped inside.’ Sinclair laughed it off as he closed the door and guided the man back to the table. ‘I hope I wasn’t needed – I couldn’t hear a thing in there.’
The men around the table looked at Sinclair in confusion, then one of them said, ‘Do you have the security plans?’
Sinclair hastily turned back and opened the closet, his eyes meeting Miranda’s for the briefest of moments as she passed him the plans. ‘Ihad them out ready,’ he said, retreating to the table. ‘It took a while to unearth them.’
With skill, he steered the discussion to the security issues, taking his seat at the table as if he’d been there all along. Whether it was because Sinclair was a diplomat or because he was deemed dependable, they just accepted it, and before long, the meeting was continuing as usual.
It wasn’t until the end, after the room had cleared, that Miranda stepped out, incredulous that she’d escaped unscathed. Quietly, she crept to the door, peering out before making a dash for her office, all ideas of the security plans forgotten.
It was only there, as she sat at her desk, that relief flooded through her. Thank heavens Sinclair stepped in front of her, put himself in the doorway to prevent her from getting into trouble. If she’d have been caught, they would have kicked her out immediately. Gone would be her job, gone would be her new friends, and gone would be her chance of writing the articles.
And, she thought with a frown, gone would be Sinclair.
That moment, when they’d almost kissed, made her shiver with something new and vibrant, but as soon as she relived it, she forced it down. How could she even feel such a thing?
Determinedly, she organized the folders on her desk, reminding herself that nothing actuallydidhappen. Nor could it. She had Jack, after all, and what about her job?
She scoffed at the thought.
And yet, deep inside, she felt unsettled, as if a tornado had just swept through her and then left her with a great deal to tidy up.
CAROLINE
CAROLINE HELPED THE QUEEN STEP INTO THE BLACKdress, sombre as they prepared for Queen Mary’s funeral. Determined as Elizabeth’s grandmother had been to attend the coronation – no doubt to thrust more instructions onto her – illness had taken her.
As if in sympathy, the dogs were resting in the corner, and in the background, Churchill’s tribute came over the radio. ‘She died in the knowledge that the crown is far more securely based on people’s love than in the sedate days of her youth, when rank and privilege ruled society.’
‘That’s what I have to remember,’ the queen murmured, half to herself.
‘What’s that, Ma’am?’ The head dresser was lifting and tucking one stockinged foot into a shoe, followed by the other.
‘How much things have changed. My dear grandmother was always very firm about sticking to the rules, making sure things were done properly. The monarchy was there because the people trusted in the authority of the ruling class. But today, the monarchy is more about helping people rather than ruling over them.’ She frowned. ‘It’s about looking at today’s society and seeing what they need a queen to be.’
‘Perhaps you could take her advice and change it into today’s world. Maybe it’s like a beautiful old gown that needs a little thought and careful alterations to fit the times,’ Miss MacDonald said as she smoothed down the hemlines.
‘Yes, that’s a good way of putting it.’ Elizabeth’s eyes flickered to the mirror, where she watched her perfected form, the black dress,gloves, stockings, shoes. Her face was pale in comparison, the weight of this death, this funeral, just ten weeks before the coronation. ‘She was a great inspiration to me, but I always wondered whether she had faith in me, too. It was as if every sentence was prefaced with, “if only you were older”, or “if only your father had lived to give you the apprenticeship you needed”.’ She sighed. ‘And now she’s gone. First my father, and now her. How can I go on without help?’
‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, but do you need anyone’s help, Ma’am?’ Miss MacDonald said. ‘It might be time to have faith in yourself, live by your own rules – be the queen of your own realms.’
As if in thought, the queen’s eyes drifted into middle distance. Then, snapping out of it, she looked around at her dresser. ‘Well, let’s get through the funeral and see where we are. Thank goodness we have the break in Balmoral coming up.’
The day would be long. After a funeral procession through London, the service would be taking place in the chapel at Windsor Castle, and finally back to the palace.
For Caroline, too, it would be busy, which was good as it took her mind off Angus after their day out. Yet, as she helped the queen, she found her mind running over it again and again.
How different her life could have been.
Today, Miss MacDonald was to accompany Elizabeth to the funeral, leaving Caroline to pack Her Majesty’s clothes for the Balmoral trip. The trunks had to be taken by train to Scotland ahead of time so that they could be unpacked before the queen’s arrival. On the way to Balmoral, the queen was stopping for the launch of the new Royal Yacht,Britannia,the floating palace that was to take her around the world on her Coronation Tour.
While she was touching up her makeup, the queen talked to Miss MacDonald about the trip, how much she needed a break, how good it would be to get away from the politics of the palace.
‘The advisors and Churchill aren’t at all happy that I want to appoint Philip as the Head of the Coronation Committee. It’s usually the Duke of Norfolk’s job. They’re put out because Philip says he wants to “modernize” everything.’
Miss MacDonald considered it before replying. ‘I think he’s right to make changes. Your advisors think the public wants a show of power and wealth, a dynasty of the oldest traditions. But I’m not sure anyone wants to see lots of money being spent on frivolous extras, not while everyday people have to stick to rations from the last war.’ She set the queen’s shoes on the floor in front of a leather armchair. ‘In any case, it’s a good idea to keep Philip involved, now that they’ve forced him to give up his naval career.’
‘He’s so very cross these days, lost with nothing to do,’ Elizabeth said, and in a lower voice added, ‘and he’s spending too much time with his equerry. Who knows what goes on at their lunch clubs. And what about their weekends away “with the men” in various country estates.’ She took a deep breath. ‘What he needs is to be part of the palace, to feel important.’
