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Chapter Four

‘I’m afraid we are in something of a quandary, Sir William,’ said Lord Ellersmere, the head of William’s division of the Foreign Office, an hour before he expected Diana Martin to reappear. Lord Ellersmere placed his fingertips against his flowing white moustache and nodded solemnly. ‘Indeed we are.’

William turned his attention away from the window and the brightening day outside, abashed to realise he was thinking of Diana, of how flustered she looked on the pavement, and not on the task at hand. ‘I thought the Paris arrangements were all in place.’

‘So did we,’ Lord Ellersmere said with a gruff laugh. ‘But you know the Prince. Always changing his mind, dashing off to some spa town or another. He gives this office a headache like no other. But we must do as we must.’

‘Because he will one day be our King?’

Lord Ellersmere sighed. ‘May that day be a long one away.’

‘And he has changed the Paris arrangements again?’

‘So it seems. We thought the Queen had persuaded him not to go until the autumn, but he has heard too much about all the excitement and has decided that he must see it for himself directly after the opening.’

‘But that’s only in a week’s time! We would need to arrange for some reconnaissance first.’

‘No time for that. H.R.H. says he and the Princess are only going unofficially, for two or three days at the most. They want to go up on the tower and he says the Princess has a yearning to see the Indian jewels. Yet, of course, unofficial only means we must find a way to be invisible and still make sure all the royal niceties are attended to. You are the very best at that sort of thing. Our Bertie likes you. And you know exactly what to watch out for.’

William nodded solemnly. That had indeed been his job in India. Who would have known he would find himself in the same spot at home so soon? If only it all ended in a better state. That was his most important task now. ‘I saw in the papers that Maharajah Singh Lep is also on his way to Paris. Does that have something to do with the need to see the Indian jewels?’

Lord Ellersmere’s gaze sharpened. ‘Yes, I have heard that, as well. We could hope his ship is delayed and he misses the Wales party—and the Wavertons. I understand they will be there, too.’

‘Does the Duke still want to display the Star at the Indian Pavilion?’

‘The Duke says he is merely the steward of the jewel and it must be shown to the world. But I hear whispers the Wavertons aren’t as flush as they would seem.’

William frowned. He had not heard that about his aunt and her husband, who had always been one of the wealthiest ducal couples, always entertaining lavishly. Was that no longer true? Where had Chris heard about that ridiculous Indian investment scheme of Thursby’s? Could it be something their uncle was trying, as well? Waverton had always been fascinated by India. If he could couple that with a way to make money quickly...

‘And is Singh still unhappy at the sale of the jewel?’ William said.

Lord Ellersmere shrugged. ‘Who can say? The man is certainly still wealthy enough. But who wouldn’t be unhappy about it all?’

‘I heard something to the effect that there was an Indian investment scheme floating about in the clubs.’

‘A scheme?’

‘I don’t know the details yet. Probably mining or something of the sort. Silks and gold always seem to be in vogue.’

‘Do you think the Prince has heard of it all? Could that be behind the mania to get to Paris soon?’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised. Bertie seems to enjoy these little schemes as well as the next man.’

‘Indeed. It wouldn’t be the first time. Her Majesty wouldn’t be happy to hear it.’ Lord Ellersmere sat back in his chair, looking suddenly weary. William understood the feeling. The job of ‘keeping an eye’ on the Prince was a constant one. ‘Then an even closer eye must be kept on the Prince for now. He is always susceptible to such romantic ideas.’

There was a knock at the office door and a secretary peeked inside past gleaming spectacles. ‘I do beg your pardon, Lord Ellersmere, but Sir William has a caller.’

‘A caller?’ William asked. He was not aware of any appointments. But—could it possibly be Diana? His weariness suddenly faded.

The secretary gave a pinched frown. ‘Yes. It’s—it’s a lady. A rather well-dressed one. She says you invited her to tea.’

Yes, it must be Diana. ‘Tell her I will join her in a moment.’

As he left, Lord Ellersmere looked on with bright interest. Anything new or different in their office was a cause of great curiosity, which Will suddenly realised he should have remembered. So much for diplomacy. All his caution seemed to fly out the door when faced with red hair and lively, chocolate-coloured eyes.

‘A lady?’ Lord Ellersmere said.

‘Miss Martin. An old school friend of my cousin Lady Alexandra. I saw her this morning and asked her to tea.’ The funniest thing that had ever hit him on the street at such an early hour, surely.

‘Martin? A good family. Her father was on the India station once. A good wife, you know, Sir William, can be priceless in our work.’

‘I have no thought of marrying soon, Lord Ellersmere,’ he said quickly, trying to cut off any gossip in the bud. Not that Ellersmere, or his priceless wife, were gossips. No one would last long in their office if they were. But he had found that men as well as ladies could be great matchmakers. He couldn’t tell them he intended never to repeat his own parents’ mistakes. Never to burden a woman with his work. ‘Our task is an urgent one, after all, and surely secret.’

Lord Ellersmere laughed. ‘Too true, my good fellow. But you will need a proper house soon if you want to move ahead and a wife to run it for you.’

William nodded. He knew that was true. But surely Diana Martin had plans of her own. She didn’t seem the sort to run a house and sit around waiting for a husband to get back from his ‘club’. She was too bumbling, too plunge-ahead-no-matter-the-cost. She needed looking after.

Though, that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy her intriguing company for a cup of tea.

He made his way downstairs and found Diana studying the paintings on the hall wall. She really had grown up since they had met at Miss Grantley’s school, he thought, turned into an elegant lady, all glowing happiness. A few of the young secretaries had gathered to gawk at her over the banisters, but she didn’t appear to take any notice. Her thoughts were unreadable as she looked at the paintings.

‘Miss Martin,’ he called. ‘I’m so glad you decided to call on us.’

‘Oh, Sir William,’ she said as she turned to greet him. ‘I do hope this isn’t an inconvenient time. I just—well, I don’t quite want to go home and your office was so near.’

She smiled again and it was as if a ray of sunshine had suddenly pierced the solemn hush of the office. Her cheeks were glowing pink, tendrils of her red-gold hair escaping from beneath her hat, and he felt the energy flow through him from just looking at her. It was—unusual. Amazing, really.

‘Not at all, I’m glad you decided to come,’ he said, taking her arm. She smelled of those summertime lilacs, soft and sweet. Lord Ellersmere’s words, that a man needed a wife, flashed through his mind and made him laugh. He had the feeling that Diana’s sort of wife wasn’t quite what the man had in mind. ‘I was just thinking a cup of tea sounds just the thing.’

He took his hat from the hovering, curious secretary and led Diana out into the pale light of the day. The crowd on the street closed around them, noisy and bustling, always in a hurry, but he was sure she was the only one really there.

She glanced over her shoulder as the heavy door closed behind them. ‘It seems like a terribly important place. That sort of quiet doesn’t come cheaply and my father always says the calmest places are the ones where the most is happening.’

William laughed. That was another thing he found he liked about Diana Martin—her frankness. No one else talked like her. ‘I suppose it doesn’t. Come cheap, that is.’

‘What do you do there?’

‘Oh, a bit of letter writing, a bit of filing. Not much since I got back from India.’ He thought of the Prince of Wales and his always-shifting plans, of his aunt and uncle, and the Maharajah. ‘Nothing exciting.’

‘I don’t think I believe you. You’ve been all the way to India for your work, haven’t you? All sorts of interesting and important places.’

‘Even interesting places can be dull if you stay there long enough.’

‘Can they? I’m not sure I believe you about that, either, though I think I would like to try. Surely if you’re bored in Calcutta or Cairo, you can find an elephant to ride at the very least.’