Read Online Buckingham Palace Gardens by Anne Perry - Free Book Online Page B

had seen hard men in the East End of London where she had grown up, men who carried knives and knew how to use them, whom she would not have backed in a fight against Mr. Narraway. There was something in him only a fool would challenge. Except when he looked at Mrs. Pitt. Then he was just as human and easily hurt as anyone else. Gracie thought she might be the only one who could see that. It was odd what people missed sometimes. “Wot does ’e want wi’ me?” she said again.
    â€œCome down and you’ll find out,” Charlotte told her. “I’m not carrying a message down to the head of Special Branch to say you won’t see him!”
    Gracie thought about her hair, which was straight as rain, screwed up in a knot at the back of her head, and her dark blue dress, which was more than a little crumpled. She would be putting a clean one on tomorrow anyway, so she had not bothered about sitting on it.
    â€œJust as you are.” Charlotte must have read her thoughts. “He will mind a few wrinkles far less than he will mind waiting.”
    That was alarming. Gracie smoothed her skirt once, ineffectively; her hands were shaking. Then she followed Charlotte down to the landing, past the bedroom doors of Jemima and Daniel, the two Pitt children, then on down the next flight to the hall.
    Narraway was waiting in the front parlor. He looked extremely tired. His face was lined and his thick, dark hair with its sprinkling of gray was definitely less neat than usual. He was apparently too restless to sit down.
    Gracie stood to attention. “Yes, sir?”
    Charlotte closed the door and Gracie hoped to heaven she had remained inside, but she dared not look round to find out.
    â€œMiss Phipps,” Narraway began, “what I am about to tell you, you will keep with the same absolute discretion you do all things you learn in this house. Do you understand me?”
    â€œYes, sir! I know what discretion is,” Gracie said indignantly. “I don’t talk about things to no one wot in’t their business.”
    â€œGood. Mr. Pitt was called this morning because there has been a murder at Buckingham Palace, where the Queen lives. Although she is not there at the moment, fortunately. However, the Prince of Wales is.”
    Gracie stared at him speechlessly.
    â€œA prostitute was knifed to death,” Narraway continued. “And her body was left in the linen cupboard in the guest wing, where there are presently eight people staying. They are on extremely important business with His Royal Highness.”
    â€œAn’ Mr. Pitt’s gonna find out ’oo killed ’er,” Gracie finished for him. “Don’t worry, sir. We can take care of things ’ere.”
    â€œI’m sure you could, Miss Phipps.” Narraway nodded very slightly, the briefest possible flash of humor in his eyes. “However, that is not what your country requires of you.”
    Charlotte let out her breath with a sigh.
    Narraway colored faintly, but he did not turn to look at her.
    â€œWot d’yer mean, ‘my country’?” Gracie asked, completely bewildered. “In’t nothing I can do.”
    â€œI suggest you get to the point, Mr. Narraway,” Charlotte cut in at last. “If I may say so, you are wasting time, and it is late.”
    Narraway looked uncomfortable. There had been a distinct edge to Charlotte’s voice, and Gracie was sorry for him. Her awe of him vanished. She had heard it said that no man was a hero to his valet. Perhaps he wasn’t to any servant who could read emotions in him that were so oddly vulnerable.
    â€œWot is it yer’d like me to do, sir?” she asked gently.
    A flash of gratitude crossed Narraway’s face for an instant, then vanished. “I would like you to take temporary employment at Buckingham Palace, Miss Phipps. The position is already secured for you, as a general between-stairs maid. No one will know