We waited in the drawing room of the suite at the Grand Hotel after receiving what might be called a royal summons, on plain note paper, signed simply E. A, and with a cryptic message that we meet.
I was familiar with those initials that I had seen at the conclusion of our first inquiry case. E.A., Edward Albert the Prince of Wales.
‘ We ’, referred to both Brodie and myself according to an agreement that neither of us would undertake separate cases after a particular situation that could have ended badly. Although I did have it well in hand by the time he arrived.
After that prior situation, there had been the odd case or two, both quite minor, with most of our time devoted to the changes we wanted to make at the office, now that Brodie was the official owner of the building on the Strand.
Such as the lift we were having installed to assist those for whom the stairs presented an obstacle.
I originally thought of Mr. Cavendish, who assisted us from time to time in our inquiries, while Brodie had pointed out that it might be convenient for my great-aunt, who made frequent visits when she was out and about in her motor carriage.
The lift was to be powered by electricity and was very nearly completed, along with an expansion of the loo upstairs, repairs to the ground floor shop at #104 that had stood empty, and then a remodel project of third floor.
Brodie was determined to let out the ground floor shop to a business prospect.
He was, after all, a Scot and determined that ownership of the building should include rental income.
The third floor which had been vacant for some time needed a great amount of work.
My great-aunt had ideas about that. I could only imagine what that might include.
He had left Mr. Cavendish in charge of the final test for the lift after the arrival of the 'unofficial' summons, delivered by one of the courier services about London rather than by official royal courier. Most intriguing.
So here we were, awaiting the arrival of his Royal Highness.
I was familiar with the suite of rooms at the Grand as I had been there before with my good friend, Templeton, who, at the time, was rumored to be the ‘theatre companion’ of the Prince of Wales.
That particular title was subject to interpretations—mistress, and lover being two of them, although she had vehemently denied it.
‘We are just very good friends .’
Good friends, my foot!
However, I did like Templeton very much, a well-travelled, independent woman much like myself.
We got along without any pretenses and shared a good joke or two from time to time.
And she was forever attempting to persuade me to join her on her next tour to the United States.
However, that had been pre-empted by the man who presently paced the floor of the suite.
“How am I supposed to greet the man?” Brodie asked with a frown. “I canna exactly slap him on the back and offer to buy him a pint,” he said with more than a little sarcasm.
“Aside from the slap on the back, you might simply say—‘Good afternoon,’” I suggested as I stood and straightened his tie. “And then let him provide the reason for the meeting.”
Their past acquaintance had been cordial without the usual formalities required when speaking to a royal. Yet, that might have had to do with the fact that Brodie had just saved the man's life and those of his family.
“He signed the note with only the initials, E.A.” he commented.
“Obviously to put the situation at ease,” I explained.
As well as for secrecy? And then sending it by common courier. Most unusual.
Now, we awaited when he might appear and provide information regarding the situation. Although, considering past rumored transgressions, affairs, several mistresses in addition to my friend, I could only imagine the need for that discretion.
“But what reason for the plain message, and no royal courier?” Brodie commented.
The question was rhetorical, in that way that we often traded questions, thoughts, suggestions when on an inquiry case.
It was then that I heard the door to the suite open, and His Royal Highness, Edward Albert, the Prince of Wales and future King of England, entered the room.
“It seems that we are about to learn the reason.”
The Prince of Wales was dressed informally in a trousers and jacket of the finest quality but that might have been worn for a day out sporting or at his hunting lodge. A cap in one hand, his other was extended to Brodie in greeting.
No personal staff accompanied him: no equerry, nor Sir Knollys, his private secretary. Not even a footman.
“I appreciate your meeting with me at such short notice, Mr. Brodie,” the Prince of Wales greeted him.
“Good afternoon, sir.”
His Highness turned to me. “And Lady Forsythe. Always a pleasure.”
I smothered back a smile at Brodie's frown at the mention of pleasure and made a formal acknowledgement.
“No formalities, please,” he said then.
Another insight into what was obviously a very serious matter.
“Shall we begin?” Brodie replied, with a gesture to the overstuffed settee and two side chairs that sat before the fireplace.
His highness nodded and then sat at the settee. Brodie and I each took a chair across from him.
“I have not forgotten your service in the past on behalf of myself and my family, Mr. Brodie and Lady Forsythe.
“It is in that regard that I sent that note. There is a matter that has arisen that is somewhat alarming and of a nature that could be most serious for my family.” He seemed genuinely disturbed as he continued.
“I assure you that it is not what you might assume from past rumors about certain indiscretions.”
It was the only reference he made to several well-known affairs which I was aware of, and which my great-aunt had known of from years past. The man did have a fondness not only for actresses, but a titled lady or two of my great-aunt’s acquaintance.
“It seems as though the man cannot keep his trousers buttoned,” she had remarked when one particular affair became known. “And then there was that nonsense about a chair or some other piece of furniture. ”
I did appreciate that she hadn't shared details on that particular subject.
“ I much prefer a rogue to a nobleman ,” she had continued at the time. “ It does add excitement, wouldn’t you agree, dear? ”
I looked over at Brodie. I had to admit that I did agree on that.
The ‘rogue’, or the Scot, was presently dressed much like a gentleman, his expression thoughtful, his deportment flawless so that one might almost think him a gentleman. Almost.
His Highness stood then and paced across the room.
“I must ask for your discretion and secrecy, of course, until the purpose behind this is determined.”
Brodie nodded. “Of course.”
I nodded as well, although we had yet to learn what the situation might be.
His Highness reached inside his jacket and retrieved an envelope. He removed a folded piece of stationary and handed it to Brodie.
“I received this late last evening.”
Brodie unfolded the stationary read the contents, then handed it to me.
I read the note, then looked up.
“ The sins of the father will be visited upon the children ... “