{"product_id":"on-her-majestys-frightfully-secret-service-isbn-9780425283516","title":"On Her Majesty's Frightfully Secret Service","description":"\u003cb\u003eLady Georgiana Rannoch juggles secret missions from the Queen, her beau, and her mother in this mystery in the Royal Spyness series.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen royal sleuth Georgie Rannoch receives a letter from her dearest friend Belinda, who's in an Italian villa awaiting the birth of her illegitimate baby, she yearns to run to her side. If only she could find a way to get there! But then opportunity presents itself in a most unexpected way—her cousin the queen asks her to attend a house party in the Italian Lake Country. The Prince of Wales \u003ci\u003eand\u003c\/i\u003e the dreadful Mrs. Simpson have been invited, and Her Majesty is anxious to thwart a possible secret wedding. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat luck! A chance to see Belinda, even if it is under the guise of stopping unwanted nuptials. Only that's as far as Georgie's fortune takes her. She soon discovers that she attended finishing school with the hostess of the party—and the hatred they had for each other then has barely dimmed. Plus, she needs to hide Belinda's delicate condition from the other guests. And her dashing beau, Darcy's (naturally) working undercover on a dangerous mission. Then her actress mother shows up, with a not-so-little task to perform. With all this subterfuge, it seems something is bound to go horribly wrong—and Georgie will no doubt be left to pick up the pieces when it does.\u003cb\u003ePraise for the Royal Spyness Mysteries\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Wonderful characters…A delight.”—Charlaine Harris, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An insightful blend of old-fashioned whodunnit, clever satire and drawing room comedy of errors.”—Jacqueline Winspear, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Brilliant…This is so much more than a murder mystery. It’s part love story, part social commentary, part fun and part downright terrifying. And completely riveting.”—Louise Penny, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The perfect fix...for \u003ci\u003eDownton Abbey\u003c\/i\u003e addicts.”—Deborah Crombie, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Fans of P.G. Wodehouse looking for laughs mingled with some amateur sleuthing will be quite pleased.”—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Georgie’s high spirits and the author’s frothy prose are utterly captivating.”—\u003ci\u003eThe Denver Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A smashing romp.”—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003cb\u003eRhys Bowen\u003c\/b\u003e, a \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author, has been nominated for every major award in mystery writing, including the Edgar®, and has won many, including both the Agatha and Anthony awards. She is the author of the Royal Spyness Mysteries, set in 1930s London, the Molly Murphy Mysteries, set in turn-of-the-century New York, and the Constable Evans Mysteries, set in Wales. She was born in England and now divides her time between Northern California and Arizona.Chapter 1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Monday, April 8, 1935\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Kilhenny Castle, Ireland\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Darcy has gone. Not sure what to do next.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I should have known it was too good to last.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I had spent the last two months at Kilhenny Castle, Darcy's      ancestral home. I had experienced the merriest Christmas I had      ever known, with Darcy, his eccentric family and the Polish      princess Zou Zou Zamanska. We had fought hard to prove Lord      Kilhenny's innocence when he was wrongly accused of a crime and      had managed to gain back his castle. The next month was spent      making it habitable again. It had been a wonderful, almost      miraculous time to be close to the man I loved, to actually be      planning our wedding in the summer. Darcy had also been helping      his father to restore the racing stable, now owned by the      princess, to its former glory and they had succeeded in winning      the gold cup at the Punchestown races.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But all good things must come to an end. Darcy had never been the      sort to stay in one place for long. Neither had the princess. She      had flitted between Ireland and London in her little aeroplane as      casually as if she was going down to the corner shop for a loaf of      bread. Then one day in March she announced that she was leaving to      enter a round-the-world air race. Darcy's father, usually never      one to let his feelings show, had stomped around miserably for      days after she had gone. They were clearly fond of each other, but      as far as I knew he hadn't declared his love for her. Perhaps his      stupid pride made him think that he didn't have enough to offer      her, either in rank or in fortune. Not that she would have cared.      Zou Zou, as she liked her friends to call her, was one of the most      open and generous people I have ever met. And I think she had      definitely fallen for the roguish Lord Kilhenny. Who wouldn't? He      had the same rugged good looks and wicked twinkle in his eye as      his son!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Then shortly after Zou Zou flew off in her tiny plane, Darcy came      to me and said he'd have to leave for a while. He had an      assignment that he couldn't refuse. Even though we were engaged to      be married he had never revealed to me for whom he was actually      working, although he had dropped hints that it was the British      secret service.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"How long will you be gone, do you think?\" I asked, trying to look      light and cheerful.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I have no idea,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And I suppose you can't tell me where you'll be going or what      you'll be doing?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He grinned then. \"You know I can't. And actually I don't know      myself yet.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I stood there, looking at him, thinking how incredibly handsome he      was with those wild dark curls and alarming blue eyes. I took his      hands. \"Darcy, will it be like this when we're married?\" I asked      and heard a little catch in my voice. \"Will you always be going      off somewhere and leaving me at home to worry about you?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You don't need to worry about me,\" he said. \"I'm a big boy. I can      take good care of myself. But as to what I do when we're married,      we'll just have to play it by ear. Maybe we'll move back here to      the castle and raise our children the way I was raised. But I want      to make enough money to provide for you. You know that.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes, I know,\" I said, fighting back an embarrassing tear, \"but      I'll miss you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'll miss you too, you silly old thing.\" He stroked back a curl      from my cheek. \"I'll be in London first,\" he added. \"I'll make an      appointment to see the king's private secretary and see how things      are progressing.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He was talking about our wedding, of course. In case you don't      know, I am the daughter of the Duke of Rannoch,      great-granddaughter to Queen Victoria and second cousin to the      king. As such I am part of the line of succession-currently      thirty-fifth in line to the throne. And members of the royal      family are not allowed by law to marry Catholics. Darcy was a      Catholic so the only way to be allowed to marry him was to      renounce my claim to the throne. This was all rather silly as      there was little likelihood that I'd find myself crowned Queen of      England (not unless there was a plague or flood of biblical      proportions). But the whole thing had to be done properly. Darcy      had presented a petition on my behalf. Then it had to be approved      by Parliament. The petition had been presented, but we had heard      nothing. So the wedding date was in limbo and it was most      unsettling. I rather wished we had managed to reach Gretna Green,      as Darcy had once tried to do, and been married in secret.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But left alone in the Irish countryside, now doubts crept into my      mind. What if Parliament refused to let me renounce my claim?      Could we defy them and marry? We'd have to leave England and live      abroad if necessary because I was going to marry Darcy. Nothing      was going to stop me. But it was an unsettling time, suddenly      finding myself alone at Kilhenny Castle with Darcy's father. He      had never been the most genial of men. Now he was clearly worried      about Zou Zou so he went around with a scowl on his face and      became annoyed by the smallest of things-much the way he had been      when I first arrived there in December.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I, in turn, was worried about Darcy, about the future of our      marriage and to what dangerous part of the globe he might be sent.      More than anything I wondered what I should be doing next. I      sensed that Lord Kilhenny welcomed my company and would sink into      deeper gloom if I left. And yet I felt lonely, unsettled and out      of place in Ireland. I enjoyed visits to Darcy's eccentric      great-aunt and great-uncle, who lived in a rambling old house      nearby, as well as walks through the countryside, where roadside      hedges were now blooming with spring flowers and the air smelled      of spring. But I wanted to be gone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e My thoughts often turned to my friend Belinda who had fled to      Italy to have a baby that no one should know about. Was she      feeling equally lonely? She had suggested when I last saw her that      I come and stay with her in Italy, but I had heard nothing since      and had no address in Italy to write to. I hoped she was all      right. I also worried about my grandfather in London. I had      written to him several times, but had heard nothing in return      since Christmas, when I had received a rather lurid card and a box      of Quality Street chocolates. I knew he wasn't much of a writer,      but I was concerned about his health. He had a weak chest and the      London fogs were often brutal in winter. I would have gone to      London to visit him, but I had nowhere to stay. My brother, the      current duke, owned our family home, Rannoch House on Belgrave      Square, but he and my dreaded sister-in-law, Fig, had gone to the      south of France for the winter and Fig had made it clear to me      that I was not to use their house while they were gone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Zou Zou had also said that I was always welcome to stay with her      when I was in London, but she was on a round-the-world race, which      might take months. So I stayed on in Ireland, rushing to the post      every morning in the hope of news from somebody. And then one      morning I went out for an early walk. It was a perfect spring day.      Daffodils were blooming all over the castle grounds. Birds were      singing madly in the trees, which now sported new buds. The air      smelled fresh and fragrant. It was the sort of day to go for a      long ride, but the only horses at Kilhenny these days were at the      racing stable and I didn't think Darcy's father would trust me      with one of his prized mounts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I was halfway down the path to the front gate when I met the      postman, coming toward me on his bicycle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Top of the morning, my lady,\" he said, coming to a halt beside      me. \"'Tis a grand day, is it not? And a letter for yourself from      London, no less.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He handed it to me. A fat envelope. I looked for Darcy's black,      impatient scrawl, but instead I saw my brother's handwriting. So      they were home in England again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I see there's a crest on the back of that envelope,\" the postman      said, eyeing it curiously. \"So it's from some lord or lady, is it?      I expect it's important, then.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He was hovering, waiting for me to open it. Although I was dying      to know why my brother might be writing to me after such a long      silence, I certainly wasn't going to open it with the postman      peering over my shoulder, ready to spread the news to the rest of      the village.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Thank you very much,\" I said. \"I'd better go indoors and read it,      hadn't I?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I saw him watching me with disappointment as I went back up the      path to the castle. Once inside I went into the dining room and      poured myself a cup of coffee. There was no sign of Darcy's      father. He went to the stables at the crack of dawn most mornings      and I had become used to eating breakfast alone. I had just sat      down when the housekeeper, Mrs. McCarthy, came into the room      bringing a dish of smoked haddock.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She started when she saw me. \"Oh, your ladyship, I didn't know you      were already up, and me with no breakfast ready for you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Please don't worry, Mrs. McCarthy,\" I said. \"I was going out for      a walk and then I met the postman and he had a letter for me, so I      wanted to come inside and read it right away.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh, how lovely. A letter for you.\" She beamed with pleasure.      \"It's not from Mr. Darcy himself, is it?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Unfortunately, no,\" I said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"My, but that's a grand crest on the envelope,\" she said, hovering      behind me with the dish of haddock still in her hands.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's from my brother, the Duke of Rannoch,\" I said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh, your brother. Well, isn't that grand.\" She showed no sign of      moving away. I was beginning to think that curiosity was a local      trait. \"No doubt he's got some news for you. That looks like it      could be a long letter.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Well, he's just come back from the south of France,\" I said. \"I      expect he's giving me a full report on his time there.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh, the Riviera. Now, isn't that grand? I expect they had a      lovely time there. All those yachts and things.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It was quite clear she didn't plan to move.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Don't you think you should put the dish of haddock onto the      warming tray or it will get cold?\" I said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She chuckled. \"Would you look at me. I'd quite forgotten I'd got      the thing in my hands.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As she headed for the sideboard with the various breakfast dishes      on it I opened the envelope. Two more letters fell out as well as      one page of writing paper with the Rannoch crest on it. I read      that first.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e My dear Georgiana,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I hope this finds you in good health. We were not sure where to      send the enclosed, but I'm mailing them to O'Mara's address in      Ireland in the hope that you might still be there. We did read in      the English newspapers about the amazing turn of events concerning      Lord Kilhenny and I must say I am very glad for you that he was      cleared of any wrongdoing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e We arrived back from Nice to find the enclosed letters waiting on      the hall table. It appears they had been posted some time ago, but      the house had been shut up with no servants until we returned      home. I see one of the letters comes from Buckingham Palace. I do      hope it was nothing urgent. I took the liberty of dropping a line      to Their Majesties' private secretary to say we had all been out      of the country and I was forwarding the letter to you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e We all had a splendid time at Foggy and Ducky's villa-well, not      exactly splendid. It was a trifle crowded. The term \"villa\" is      actually somewhat of an overstatement. It's an ordinary small      house on a backstreet in Nice, but is within walking distance of      the sea. The water was too cold for bathing, but we took some nice      walks. Podge was disgusted that the beach was not sandy, but he's      a good little chap and amused himself well.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e We'll be in London for a couple of weeks before we head back to      Scotland and look forward to hearing from you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Your affectionate brother,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Binky\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I looked up. Mrs. McCarthy had now deposited the haddock on its      warming tray and had returned to hover behind me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"All is well, I trust, your ladyship?\" she asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I folded the letter. \"Thank you, Mrs. McCarthy. All is indeed      well. And I think I'll leave the other letters until I've enjoyed      your delicious smoked haddock.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I think I heard her sigh as she admitted defeat and went back to      the kitchen.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When I had finished my breakfast I retreated to my bedroom and      opened the other letters. The royal one first, naturally. It was      from the queen, not dictated to a secretary but written with her      own hand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e My dear Georgiana,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I trust you are well. I understand from the king's secretary that      your young man has indicated that you wish to marry him and, given      his Catholic faith, have expressed yourself willing to abandon      your place in the line of succession.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e This is indeed a big step, Georgiana, and one not to be undertaken      without a great deal of thought. I would expect to hear from your      lips that this is indeed your intention and that you are quite      sure of the ramifications. To that end I hope you will come to the      palace and we can discuss your situation over tea. Please let my      secretary know when might be a convenient date for you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e His Majesty sends you his warmest wishes, as do I,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Mary R.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (You'll notice that even in an informal letter to a cousin she was      still Mary Regina. One never stops being a queen.)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I stared at the letter for a long time while my stomach twisted      itself into knots. Did this mean that they might not approve the      marriage, nor give me permission to abandon my claim to the      throne? It all seemed so silly. They had four healthy sons and      already two granddaughters, with the promise of many more      grandchildren to come. I should go to London immediately and sort      things out with her. Let her know that I intended to marry Darcy      no matter what. I felt my stomach give an extra little twist when      that thought popped into my mind. Queen Mary was a rather      terrifying person. I had never crossed her in my life before. I      don't believe many people have dared to do so. The only exception      being her son and heir, the Prince of Wales. She had let him know      quite clearly that she did not approve of his friendship with the      American woman Mrs. Simpson. Not only was that lady currently      married to someone else, but she had already been divorced once.      The Church of England, of which the king is the head, does not      countenance divorce. I don't think the queen ever believed that      her son would contemplate marriage to such a person. She trusted      that he would do the right thing when the time came and make a      suitable match, like his younger brother George, whose wedding to      the Greek princess Marina I had just attended.","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302746444005,"sku":"NP9780425283516","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780425283516.jpg?v=1767734093","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/on-her-majestys-frightfully-secret-service-isbn-9780425283516","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}