Next in Line (William Warwick, #5)(54)

‘Told him immediately,’ said Beth without hesitation, ‘so the Fitzmolean could benefit.’

‘Then you’ve answered your own question. Your first responsibility is to the museum, not its director, whoever that might be. Museums are permanent, directors are temporary.’

‘Even if Sloane were to tell the board it was his discovery, and take the credit for it?’

‘You really don’t like him, do you?’

‘No, I don’t,’ said Beth not attempting to hide her feelings.

‘Disliking the man is not a good enough reason to allow it to cloud your judgement, or lower yourself to his level.’

‘Of course you’re right. I’ll tell him about the drawing first thing in the morning.’

‘I think that would be wise,’ said Julian. ‘If nothing else, it might improve your relationship with him.’

‘Don’t count on it.’

‘Let’s rejoin the others before William starts wondering what we’re up to,’ said Julian.

‘I have no secrets from William,’ said Beth. ‘I’ve already discussed the problem with him, so you won’t be surprised to learn he agrees with you.’

‘He’s a lucky man,’ said Julian as he got up from his chair, opened the study door, and stood aside to allow Beth to make her way back to the drawing room.

‘Artemisia has been telling us about her most recent conversation with the Princess of Wales,’ said Audrey, when they reappeared.

‘Verbatim,’ said William.

‘Yes, I was,’ said Artemisia. ‘I can’t wait to see her again, because I have an important question to ask her.’

‘And what might that be?’ enquired Julian.

‘In the car Mummy told Daddy that Diana was playing away from home, and I wondered which sport she was playing.’

Sir Julian didn’t answer his granddaughter’s question, as he wasn’t altogether sure how to advise his youngest client.





CHAPTER 21





RADIANT WAS THE WORD THAT came to Ross’s mind when he saw her for the first time that morning.

‘Good morning, your Royal Highness,’ he said, holding open the back door of the car.

‘Good morning, Ross,’ she replied as she climbed in. ‘It was kind of you to give up your weekend. I do hope Jojo isn’t too cross with me.’

‘She understood, ma’am.’

Both of them knew that wasn’t true.

Making their way out of London on a Saturday morning with no police escort was an unusual experience for both of them. Having to stop at traffic lights that didn’t instantly turn green, waiting to give way at roundabouts, and being overtaken by other cars, allowed Diana a rare glimpse of the real world.

Ross glanced in his rear-view mirror to see her chatting on the phone. She was clearly looking forward to a weekend in the country with her … he couldn’t find the appropriate word.

Not for the first time, Ross was grateful that the back windows were tinted. Otherwise, there would have been a steady stream of gawpers in other cars trying to take photos on the move, some even while they were driving.

Although he wasn’t looking forward to spending a weekend in the country with ‘His Royal Upstart’, as William referred to him, he was interested to see what Jamil Chalabi’s home was like. Glitzy and vulgar, he assumed. His thoughts were interrupted when Diana asked, ‘When do you think we’ll get there, Ross?’

He checked his watch. ‘About another forty minutes, ma’am. So we might be a few minutes late.’

She then blindsided him by asking, ‘You don’t like Jamil, do you?’ Ross couldn’t think of a suitable reply. ‘Just as I thought,’ she said as they drove into Guildford.

As they proceeded slowly along the high street, she delivered the single word he most dreaded.

‘Stop,’ she said firmly – more of a command than a request. Her former protection officer had warned Ross that it always happened when you least expected it.

He slowed down and parked on a single yellow line. He unbuckled his seatbelt, but she’d escaped before he could reach the back door. One look, and he knew exactly where she was heading. He quickly followed her into the shop to find her gazing around, her eyes lit up like a drunk who’s found the only bar in town.

Wherever you looked, there were handbags of every shape, size and colour, that had found their way from all over the world to a boutique in Guildford. HRH was clearly in paradise.

To Ross’s relief there was no one else inside the shop, other than a young woman behind the counter, whose mouth was wide open, though no words were coming out. HRH was enjoying the feast that surrounded her, still unsure which would be her first course.

Ross quickly switched the open sign to closed and stood with his back to the door – though within minutes, he accepted that everyone in Guildford would know who had just ridden into town.

HRH was taking her time, closely examining various bags that particularly appealed to her, looking inside to make sure they would cater for the needs of a princess, which often included somewhere to put ‘today’s speech’.

She’d just about completed her preliminary search when an older man appeared from an office at the back of the shop. After a second take, he stammered, ‘Good morning, Your Majesty,’ and bowed low from the waist. ‘Is there anything I can help you with?’