On Her Majesty's Frightfully Secret Service Read online

  “I understand that you also admire our leader, Herr Hitler, Your Highness,” the general said.

  “From what I’ve seen, I’d say the chap knows what he’s doing,” my cousin said. “He’s certainly putting Germany back on the map. Wallis thinks he’s brilliant.”

  “The lady is correct,” the general said. “He is a brilliant man. He talks and millions follow. He will make Germany great again, you will see.”

  “Is that why you asked me here?” the prince said cautiously. “To get me to agree that Hitler is a good thing for Germany?”

  “More than that, Highness,” Paolo’s uncle said. “Much more than that. Mussolini realizes that the true alliance should be between our country and Germany and yours. We are having the conference that really matters, here and now.”

  Crikey, I thought, holding my breath. Until this moment I had thought that being detected under the table would just be a matter of embarrassment for me. Now I began to think that I might be in real danger. What was happening here might influence the future of our world. These men couldn’t risk my telling anyone what I was overhearing now. David wouldn’t let anything happen to me, I told myself. But those others—they might want to silence me when my cousin wasn’t around. A quick push down the staircase, or even poison in my drink.

  The prince cleared his throat. I thought he sounded nervous when he said, “You brought me here to forge a secret alliance with Italy and Germany?”

  “Precisely,” the general said.

  The prince gave an embarrassed little chuckle. “I think you overestimate my power, gentlemen. You have the ear of Mussolini, Count. And you advise Hitler on military matters, General. I have no power at all. I go around and open hospitals and visit factories and tell people they are doing a jolly good job. On special occasions I ride with my parents in a coach through London and people cheer. I am a puppet at best.”

  “But we hear your father is in poor health,” Count Cosimo said. “He may not live much longer and you will be king.”

  “Yes, but even when I’m king I answer to Parliament.”

  “But you meet the prime minister regularly. You advise, don’t you?” the general said. “And you are an intelligent man. You can see that the best chance for the future of our three nations is to work together. Our common enemy is communism. In Italy the communists are still powerful, are they not, Count Cosimo?”

  “They are indeed,” Paolo’s uncle agreed.

  “And in Germany too. You do not have a communist threat in England?”

  “We’ve had a few rabble-rousers, agitators stirring up the working class,” the prince agreed.

  “Russia is clever. Do not underestimate her,” the general said. “Russian agents work in each of our countries to bring down the government and put communism in its place. This is why we must stand together. We can dominate Europe between us. Keep Russia at bay. We will agree not to fight each other. We will stop more blood from being spilled.”

  The prince cleared his throat again. “I might be able to see the benefit in this, but I have to tell you that Parliament is not likely to listen to my opinion.”

  “But the British people, they love you, I think,” the general continued. “If you get them on your side, they will tell their government what they want.”

  There was a long silence, then the prince said, “Max, you’ve been very silent. What do you say?”

  “I own factories,” Max said. “I make motorcars and machinery and money. It is not my business to run a country. But I tell you that communism will be bad for all of us. The people in Russia live in poverty. They have no motorcars. No luxury. We do not want this. We must fight it together.”

  “I don’t think there is a serious communist threat in England,” the prince said with conviction.

  “The czar did not think that he was in danger in Russia and look what happened to him,” General Spitz-Blitzen said.

  Another long pause. “So did Hitler and Mussolini send you here to meet with me?” the prince asked.

  “No, they do not know we meet,” Paolo’s uncle said. “But they will be pleased when they hear what we have done today. Yes, they will be most pleased, of this I am sure.”

  “What exactly do you want me to do?” the prince asked.

  “Make your father see that it will be good for England to have Hitler and Mussolini as friends,” the general said. “Tell him that Britain may need strong allies. Together we will stop the spread of communism, nicht? We can count on you to tell him this, can we not?”

  “I can tell him,” the prince said. “Whether he will listen is another matter.”

  The room was getting smokier by the minute. I could feel my eyes stinging and my nose tickling, but I didn’t dare move the hand that anchored me to the table leg. Don’t sneeze, I told myself. Whatever you do, don’t sneeze.

  Of course the moment I thought that, the tickle in my nose became worse. I eased my hand away from where it had been wrapped around the table leg and I pressed it to my nose.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t hold my breath any longer and a great sneeze would come bursting forth, Max said, “We should not be away too long, in case the women return.”

  “But we have been having a chin-wag and quiet smoke,” the Prince of Wales said.

  “We did not wag the chins, I think,” the general said. “Oh, English expression. Of course.”

  “So what happens next?” David asked.

  “Nothing. We pretend this meeting has never happened. But when the moment comes we shall know we can count on you, Your Highness.”

  “Which moment is this?” the prince asked.

  “The moment when alliances must be made, to defend Europe. To stop outside threats.”

  “I see. You think it will come to that?”

  “Yes, I think it will,” said the German voice. I wasn’t sure this time whether it was the general or Max.

  I heard the sound of chairs scraping as they were pushed back on the bare marble. The table rocked as the men stood up.

  “We should not leave together, I think,” the old Italian said. “I think you take a stroll in the grounds, maybe. Me, I go back to the villa. You join me, General?”

  “If you wish.”

  “Come on, Klinker,” Rudi said. “We’ll take the stroll.”

  That left Max and the prince. I lifted the tablecloth cautiously a few inches. As they approached the door the prince said in a low voice, “Why exactly was Count Rudolf here? He didn’t say a word except to translate for Klinker.”

  Max chuckled. “You do not know the way things work in Germany. Hitler trusts nobody. You may be sure that Rudolf is here to keep an eye on the general and report back.”

  “He’s a spy for Hitler?”

  “Probably,” Max said. “Why else would he be here when he could be on the Riviera or in Paris having his usual good time?”

  And their voices died away as they walked down the gravel path.

  Chapter 16

  MONDAY, APRIL 22

  AT VILLA FIORI WITH THINGS BECOMING MORE COMPLICATED BY THE MINUTE!

  I waited a long moment, just in case they had forgotten something and came back for it, then I extricated myself from my yoga position under the table and stretched out my limbs. The air in the room was still hazy with smoke. I would have found it hard to breathe even in the purest of air. What I had overheard had completely shaken me. And the fact that the Prince of Wales seemed to be a willing participant unnerved me even more. Surely an alliance with Hitler’s Germany could never be a good thing, could it? From what we had heard his Brownshirts behaved like bullies and thugs. And Mussolini? He was a dictator, after all, and all dictators I knew about had come to bad ends.

  I was dying to tell Darcy what I had learned and decided to risk my own stroll about the gardens in case I could find him alone. I hadn’t re
alized how big the grounds were. There were so many different sections, separated by stands of trees or high hedges. I saw two gardeners working in the kitchen garden, but they were both stocky Italian men. However, I decided they might know where Darcy was working. I went up to them and with lots of arm waving I asked where the English gardener was working.

  At first they stared at me as if I was a madwoman, then they understood and nodded. “Ah. L’inglese.” Then they shrugged as if it was no concern of theirs where he might be. Then one of them curled a lip in contempt and muttered something. The other agreed. As I left them I thought I understood what they had said: He works too much, or too hard. They didn’t like him because he showed them up. I had to smile, the first smile I had permitted myself all day.

  I continued on, away from the formal lawns, to where the ground rose in a parkland of tall trees and flowering rhododendron bushes. Suddenly a cold wind swept through the trees, sending branches rustling and rattling. I looked around me, feeling alert and alone. Had I been followed? I forced myself not to break into a run as I made my way back to the more cultivated part of the gardens. When I came out onto the lawns I stood and gave a sigh of relief. Silly, I said to myself. Nobody knew I’d been under the table and had overheard. I was quite safe.

  Perhaps Darcy was not working at this moment but in his cottage. I turned toward the far side of the grounds and came upon the row of stone cottages with red-tiled roofs, each cottage no bigger than our horses’ stable. However opulent the villa was, the hired hands certainly didn’t live in luxury. Poor Darcy, I thought, then I realized that he probably didn’t mind. He enjoyed adventure. I stood looking at the front doors, wondering which one housed Darcy. The green-painted front doors were all closed. So were most of the shutters. I could hardly go and knock on doors, could I? If word got back to the villa that I’d been hobnobbing with the gardeners people might get quite the wrong impression. For the same reason I couldn’t ask one of the other gardeners.

  “Rats,” I muttered. Why did life always have to be so complicated? I’d just have to put my signal on the balcony tonight and wait to tell Darcy then.

  As I made my way back to the villa I heard the scrape of a rake on gravel and came around a topiary hedge to find Darcy working there.

  “Darcy,” I whispered as I went up to him. “I have to talk to you. I’ve just found out something amazing. You won’t believe . . .”

  He was still wearing the big hat that shaded his whole face and a loose blue smock. He looked up and said, “Scusi, signorina?” then went back to raking.

  “There’s nobody around,” I said softly. “And I have to tell you. I’ve just come from a meeting and you won’t believe . . .”

  “Ah, there you are, Lady Georgiana,” said a voice. I almost jumped out of my skin as Rudi came around the topiary. “Your maid was concerned. She did not realize you had gone out when you felt so unwell. I came to find you.”

  “I needed fresh air,” I said. “The room felt stuffy and at home I take a walk on the moors when I have a headache.”

  “Not a wise time to take a walk, I am afraid,” he said.

  I looked up at him, shocked and wondering what he was hinting at. Then he added, “Any minute now it will rain and you will be soaked.”

  I looked up at the sky then and saw a bank of black clouds building out over the lake. The wind was now blowing more fiercely.

  “Allow me to escort you back to the villa, Lady Georgiana,” he said, offering his arm.

  I could hardly refuse, could I?

  “Thank you, Count Rudolf,” I said and tried not to glance at Darcy as I was led away.

  Had he heard me trying to talk to Darcy? Did he suspect? Then I told myself, What was there to suspect? I was talking to one of the gardeners. Ladies have been attracted to outdoor staff before, after all. I had read that banned book, Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Belinda had got her hands on a copy when we were at school and we had read it under the covers. I remembered we had had a narrow escape when Camilla was our dorm monitor and had made a surprise late-night check on us. Luckily Belinda was quicker thinking than I and had said that I thought I had a flea in my bed. Camilla certainly had no desire to hunt for fleas and beat a hasty retreat. I found myself smiling now at the memory. Oh, Belinda, I thought. I wish I was with you now.

  I hadn’t been noticing where Rudi was leading me until I saw that we were in the arbor where I had first met the company the afternoon before. So I was completely taken by surprise when he suddenly grabbed me and was kissing me. I tried to fight him off, but he was really strong, his arms wrapped around me like a boa constrictor. I wondered whether Darcy was still close by and whether he would come to my aid, but no help materialized as Rudi pinned me against one of the marble pillars and was pressing his body against mine.

  Finally I wrenched my mouth free. “Let go of me this instant,” I said.

  He was laughing. “You fight like a little tiger,” he said. “I shall enjoy the conquest all the more. For trust me, I shall conquer. You, my dear, will be in my arms and in my bed before this week is over.”

  “Absolutely not,” I said. “And if I report this conversation to our hostess she will have you thrown out of the villa.”

  He was still chuckling. “I think not,” he said. “Our hostess and I are old friends. But keep fighting, my darling. I do so enjoy the chase.”

  I was so tempted to scream. Darcy would hear and would come to my rescue. But then his true identity would be revealed and he might even find himself in danger. I wasn’t sure what might have happened next, but we heard voices close by. Ladies’ voices, sounding alarmed. Rudi broke away from me and we emerged from the bower in time to see Camilla, my mother and Mrs. Simpson actually running up the path, holding on to their hats. Paolo was bringing up the rear.

  “Ah, there you are, you naughty boy,” my mother called in that voice of hers that could project to the top gallery in a theater. “We were waiting on the island for you to come back!”

  “You men abandoned us. Such lack of chivalry,” Mrs. Simpson said, looking extremely miffed. “And then we saw the storm come up and we couldn’t see any sign of your boat.”

  “We were worried,” Camilla said. “The water was getting rough. We thought something had happened to your boat. We thought that Max had tried to see how fast it would go and it had flipped over. But no. When we came into the dock, there was your boat, already tied up, and we realized you had come home ahead of us.”

  “Obviously not caring whether we drowned in the storm or froze to death,” Mrs. Simpson added.

  “A thousand apologies, dear ladies,” Rudi said, “but do not blame me. I was not in charge. It was your husband’s uncle who looked at the sky and said we had better make for home before the storm broke. He said your boatman would surely have seen the change in weather and informed you that you had to leave. We were surprised when we did not find you here. But no matter now. We must all make for shelter before . . .”

  He had no chance to finish the sentence as there was an ominous rumble of thunder and the heavens opened. We ran for the house—Mrs. Simpson and my mother outsprinting everyone—but were quite drenched by the time we stepped into the marble foyer. Servants appeared, looking anxious and muttering excuses, as if our soaking was their fault. Camilla gave an order and they scurried off.

  “I think we all need a hot bath,” she said. “We only have three bathrooms, I am afraid, so I will allow my guests to go first. One of you can use my bathroom. My maid will take care of you.”

  “Oh no, Contessa,” I said, reverting to formality, as befitted the occasion, “I was only in the garden for a few minutes. I have not been chilled like you ladies. I will be quite content to rub myself dry with a towel.”

  “You are very gracious, Georgiana, and I accept,” she said. “I have to confess to being frozen to the marrow. I’ve instructed Cook to heat broth for us all,
and the butler will send up brandy.”

  I hurried up to my room before I could risk another encounter with Rudi in the hallway. I went over to the French doors and looked out. The rain was coming down in a solid sheet and the grounds were deserted. A flash of lightning made me step away from the window. It was immediately followed by a great crack of thunder and hailstones bounced off my balcony. If this continued I couldn’t expect Darcy to risk climbing up the creeper to me tonight. How and when was I ever going to get in touch with him?

  Chapter 17

  STILL MONDAY, APRIL 22

  AT VILLA FIORI

  Plots and espionage and attempted seduction: at least nobody can say I lead a dull life! But I’m worried that Rudi might find a way into my room and nobody would hear my cries with the racket this storm is making.

  I dried off, dressed in a jumper and skirt and drank my broth without Gerda putting in an appearance. No doubt she was taking care of Camilla, for which I was glad. I didn’t think she would approve of wearing morning clothes in the afternoon, but all I wanted at this moment was to be warm. As I came downstairs I glanced down the hall of mirrors and saw Rudi, sitting alone and writing a letter. Might he be writing another blackmail note? The thought crossed my mind that if I positioned myself correctly I could read what he was writing in the mirror. Accordingly I wandered through the salon, apparently aimlessly, until I came to a place where I could actually see the piece of paper reflected in the mirror. Then I realized that not only was he writing in German, but in German script, which was quite impossible to decipher.

  At least it wasn’t a threatening letter to my mother, I thought. She certainly couldn’t read German script. Perhaps he was doing what Max had hinted at and reporting back to Herr Hitler on the meeting. If only I had a camera in my possession, I could have taken a photograph and perhaps it could have been made large enough to read the contents of the letter. I’d obviously never make a proper spy. Not that I wanted to. My experience under the table had still quite unnerved me. I realized how incredibly lucky I was to have survived undiscovered. But Rudi’s letter writing gave me a good idea. I could write a note to Darcy and have one of the other gardeners deliver it to him.