The Queen's Accomplice (Maggie Hope Mystery #6)(85)

“Was Miss Hope a good teacher?” Durgin asked, quite serious.

“Well…” Princess Margaret began, weighing her opinion.

“Miss Hope was an excellent maths teacher,” Princess Elizabeth stated, brooking no discussion. “And she also taught us secret codes and cryptology.” Maggie and Elizabeth exchanged a significant look, remembering how using code had saved the young princess’s life.

“What did the grown-ups get for dinner?” Margaret interrupted. “We were stuck with mock mutton cutlets. They’re the worst—taste like old, dirty laundry.”

“Margaret!” Elizabeth warned.

Maggie giggled. “We had the same, if it makes you feel better.”

“Oh, I do miss sausages,” Elizabeth sighed.

“I personally miss chocolates most,” Margaret confided, taking Maggie’s hand and leading her to a low divan near the fire.

Durgin followed, and Princess Elizabeth went to get the tea. At the piano in the corner, a man in a dinner jacket began to play Cole Porter’s “You’d Be So Easy to Love.”

“Hello,” Maggie said to a woman seated in a wing chair across from her, Princess Margaret, and Durgin. She was not much older than Maggie, in a scarlet dress showing off her delicate collarbones and a long, slim neck encircled by a choker of pearls. She was the younger wife of one of the officers, and hadn’t said much during the dinner. Her husband was standing and chatting with the King and the other men, and Maggie thought she looked a bit lonely.

Elizabeth set down Maggie’s and Durgin’s teacups and smiled as she also took a seat. “Lady Westfield is an expert Tarot card reader,” the Princess informed them.



“Hardly,” the woman in scarlet said. “But I did pick up some cards in France a few years back. And I enjoy doing readings for friends.”

“Would you read Miss Hope’s cards, Lady Westfield? Please?” said Elizabeth.

“Oh yes,” Margaret agreed. “You must read her cards.”

Lady Westfield went to her beaded evening bag and opened it, pulling out a box wrapped in a silk scarf. The leather box was engraved with the lettering B. P. GRIMAUD, ANCIEN TAROT DE PARIS, and a gold triangle in a circle.

Margaret’s eyes were wide as she looked up at Maggie. “Do you believe in the Tarot, Miss Hope?”

“Well,” replied Maggie, trying to be diplomatic. “I prefer math, science, and provable facts. However,” she said, winking at Durgin, “I have become more interested in instincts and the unconscious of late.”

Lady Westfield placed the scarf and the box on a low rosewood table, then passed the deck to Maggie. “Please shuffle,” she instructed.

Maggie did as she was bid, enjoying the cards’ elaborate illustrations. “Don’t look!” Margaret warned. “You mustn’t look.”

“All right,” Maggie acquiesced—she had nothing against Tarot cards as an amusing parlor game but didn’t take the idea of a reading seriously. When she was satisfied, she handed the deck back to Lady Westfield.

As the lady took them, she said, “Before we begin, you must tap the deck three times.”

Maggie felt a rush of impatience but realized this action was part of the act. Well, Lady Westfield certainly does put on a good show, she thought.

“Tarot cards can be a window to ancient wisdom, to truths we’ve become alienated from in these modern times,” Lady Westfield said, pressing the deck in her hands. “The cards are a book of life, can answer the deepest questions, and sometimes can be a means to warn of imminent danger.”



Beside Maggie, Princess Margaret gave a melodramatic shiver.

“They represent challenges and tests, twists of fate. They move from terror and loss to unexpected good fortune—and out of darkness, hope is born.”

She laid out three cards from the top of the deck, facedown.

Maggie felt a prickle of expectation. It’s only good theater, she reminded herself.

The first card showed a naked woman and a naked man. They stood in a field with a mountain peak in the distance, over which an angel with wings and a purple cloak hovered.

“Ooooh!” Margaret gave Maggie and Durgin a significant look, and Maggie, despite her best efforts, felt herself blush. We’re just sitting too close to the fire, she thought, unable to look at Durgin.

“Hush, Margaret,” Elizabeth scolded.

But Lady Westfield was focused on the card. “The Lovers represent perfection—harmony. There is mutual attraction, yes, but it’s their trust in one another that gives them the strength and confidence to overcome the obstacles in life. The bond between them is incredibly strong—not necessarily marriage, but still a powerful connection.”

“Weren’t you stepping out with Hugh Thompson when you were with us?” Margaret interjected, giving Durgin a sideways look. “We rather liked Mr. Thompson, didn’t we, Lilibet?”

Maggie smiled at the use of Elizabeth’s childhood nickname. “That was a long time ago,” she said, remembering how Hugh had once taken a bullet to the leg to save the Princess from a kidnapper.

Lady Westfield put the card down. “The Lovers card also represents choices on a grand scale. A dilemma may be presented to you in the near future that demands an action or a decision—and you’ll need to make the right choice.”