Chapter 14 #2
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.
Her acquaintance with Her Majesty was long-standing as they were close in their ages, and the Montgomery family had a long history in Britain, longer even than the Queen’s.
It was said by some that Aunt Antonia was responsible for introducing a man of her acquaintance, a Scot no less, to the Queen after the death of Prince Albert. He became a trusted friend and confidant of Her Majesty until his death.
Aunt Antonia had neither confirmed nor denied it, simply explaining to my sister and me that when one lived long enough, there were bound to be rumors. However, she did seem to take great delight in that one.
“The Queen is a woman. Why shouldn’t she have a friend and companion. The royals have been notorious for their mistresses and affairs for hundreds of years,” she had commented at the time.
HRH was most cordial, as was the Princess of Wales. Brodie had met the Prince of Wales previously in the course of a difficult case that had involved their son, Prince Albert Victor. The case had been solved.
Afterward, HRH Prince Edward had sent a personal letter to Brodie and me, expressing his deep gratitude. Brodie had been surprised, to say the least, as he considered the situation merely part of solving the case.
Yet there was a familiar greeting now, as Prince Edward leaned forward and shared a comment. His expression was quite serious. Brodie seemed to nod in agreement.
“A memento?” His Highness commented, as he seemed to notice the cut below Brodie’s eye.
“A scratch, no more,” he replied. “The cause hopefully to be remedied tonight.”
“I sincerely appreciate your diligence, sir,” the Prince of Wales said in parting.
“He seems to be aware of the situation,” I commented.
Brodie nodded. “He was informed by Sir Avery.”
As the reception line ended, an announcement was made that the formal recognition ceremony of the new German Ambassador to Britain would take place shortly, with a presentation by the Prince of Wales to acknowledge the continued relationship of good will between the two countries.
At the same time, I couldn’t help but think of the reason we were there.
18 April was the date of some importance that Adele had overheard and written in her journal.
I was certain, as was Brodie, that something quite serious was to take place tonight. But what was it?
What had brought three men together at St. John’s Wood? And what did that have to do with what Brodie and I had discovered in Portsmouth?
“Be careful,” Brodie cautioned as Aunt Antonia approached and he prepared to make his own observations of those who were part of the evening’s event. He paused briefly and acknowledged Aunt Antonia.
They did have a special bond, and admittedly, she was responsible for sending him after me when I had ‘escaped’ my travel group with one of our guides who promised to show me the ruins on the island.
“It serves you right, my dear,” she had lovingly scolded me after I had become part of Brodie’s private inquiry cases.
“You had absolutely dreadful taste in men—a Greek guide for Heaven’s sake? I despaired that you would ever find a man who could match that wild spirit. I have no idea where you acquired that.”
She knew perfectly well.
As for a man who might match my ‘wild’ spirit?
I admired that lean figure as Brodie crossed the room in that borrowed tailcoat and cravat and found Alex Sinclair on some matter to discuss.
There were other admirers, I noticed, among the ladies he passed. As well as a narrowed glare from the Foreign Secretary, Sir Richard Montfort.
Sir Richard broke off the conversation he was having with a man, and I recognized him as Sir Andrew Smith-Thomas, Lord of the Admiralty.
Sir Andrew was dressed quite formally in a dark-blue tailcoat, much like an officer’s coat, with a red sash and sword in the scabbard that hung from under the coat.
I vaguely remembered that he had served in the Royal Navy, as well as having been appointed Lord of the Admiralty.
The conversation appeared quite serious, a question it seemed by the taut expression on the Foreign Secretary’s face. And the equally serious response he received. Then, a parting handshake, which seemed oddly unusual for this sort of occasion.
It was a simple gesture between acquaintances when first meeting someone, not in parting. What did that mean? An agreement of some kind?
“See that it is done.” I heard the Foreign Secretary say in parting, as I glimpsed something on the edge of his coat sleeve.