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Princess Elizabeth's Spy(40)

By:Susan Elia MacNeal


“British, actually,” Maggie answered, “but I was raised in the United States, near Boston.”

“Do you have any idea of when the Yanks are going to join us in this endeavor?”

“Soon, I hope.”

“Well, they are taking their time about it, aren’t they?”

During the time Maggie had been in England, she’d heard quite a bit on the subject. “Indeed,” she said tartly.

“Well, you know the Yanks,” said another older man across the table with a monocle and handlebar mustache. “Late to every war.”

Maggie bit her lip, retorting with choice words—in her head.

Later, as the dinner dishes were taken away, Lord Clive rose. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, his voice carrying throughout the expansive space. “We have, as a community, suffered a terrible loss this last weekend. I was pleased to see so many of you at Lady Lily’s memorial service. Please be assured we will be doing everything we can to cooperate with the authorities and bring the person responsible to justice.”

There was a collective murmur. Sir Owen called out, “Hear, hear!”

Maggie looked at Louisa and Polly, seated on either side of Gregory, who shot each other a look before turning their attention back to Lord Clive.

“However,” the Lord continued, “life does go on. And I’m pleased to inform you that the Prime Minister, his wife, and select members of his staff will be joining us to sleep and dine for Christmas. They will enjoy three days and nights of Windsor Castle’s hospitality.”

There was another low murmur from the table, a more excited one this time.

Lord Clive cleared his throat again. “Of course, we wish to show the Prime Minister and his staff exactly how gracious our hospitality at the castle is. I’m calling on all of you to put your best foot forward.” He looked around the table. “That is all.”

Sir Owen rose and helped pull out Maggie’s chair. “Miss Hope, we’ve been told you come to us from the Prime Minister’s office.”

“Yes, Sir Owen,” she said, as they waited to file out.

“You worked for Churchill, did you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Louisa called over, “Is he as pickled as people say?”

“Excuse me?” Maggie said.

“Sorry, I’ll speak ‘American,’ ” Louisa said. “I mean drunk. Is Churchill a drunk? That’s what we hear, at any rate.”

“No,” Maggie said, getting angry. How dare she? “I’ve never seen him drink to excess. In fact, one of his favorite quotes is, ‘I have taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of me.’ ”

Louisa gave a cat-like smirk. “I, for one, wanted to see Lord Halifax as Prime Minister.”

“Then you must enjoy goose-stepping. Lord Halifax would have surrendered by now,” Maggie snapped, color rising in her face. “Where Churchill never will.” She saw Gregory bite his lip to stop himself from laughing.

“Miss Hope! Lady Louisa!” Lord Clive admonished. “May I remind you that not only are we at Windsor Castle, but the Nazis are the enemies? Enough!”

The company was excused. Mr. Tooke left without saying a word to anyone, eyes downcast. “You mustn’t mind Lady Louisa,” Sir Owen told Maggie as they walked out together into the chilly corridor. “She’s very … colorful.”

“I see,” Maggie said.

“And you mustn’t mind Mr. Tooke either. Hasn’t been himself lately.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Has he been ill?”

“His wife passed recently.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“She was German, you see. Lived here for years, though. She was only recently sent to some sort of—camp. Apparently, the strain was too much for her. She died of a heart attack. Poor bloke just found out this past week.”

“That’s terrible.” Maggie was aware of the camps, of course. The Prime Minister had given the go-ahead for their creation. He might be the Prime Minister, and he might be a great man, but it didn’t mean Maggie agreed with everything he did.

“Poor thing’s in shock.” Sir Owen shook his head, then turned to go. “Lovely to see you again, Miss Hope. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” she replied, her mind full of internment camps.

Gregory was at her side. “Well, you definitely spiced up dinner!” Then he turned serious. “It was a rather stressful meal—considering what happened over the weekend.”

One regular dining companion missing. “Of course,” Maggie said.

“Lady Lily was a particularly sparkling presence at meals. She’ll be missed for a long time to come.”