LITMIR.BIZ

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peculiar, considering that the Brunner bridal tiara is set with the Vargas diamond! Have you ever been to Grunberg? Could you be related to someone who owned the diamond previous to my family?”

      “No, I’ve never been to Grunberg. But some of my people were there…a long time ago.”

      “Would I know of them?” the princess asked.

      Jana dismissed the possibility with a small, ironic smile. “Not very likely. Romany folk don’t get invited to the castle for formal dress balls.”

      Henry and Simon exchanged a second look. A confused one, for Simon’s part. Romany? Was Jana Vargas a true Gypsy, or simply playing the part for her own devices?

      “Romany,” breathed Mrs. Grundy, under her breath. Her keen eyes clouded. For the first time, Simon saw her less than sure of herself. Perhaps even taken aback.

      Lili must have noticed, too. “Amelia?” she asked. “Do you know how the Vargas diamond came by its name?” She looked at the others. “There’s quite a legend associated with the tiara, but I don’t recall why it’s called the Vargas diamond.”

      Grundy’s expression closed. “I couldn’t say.”

      “I could,” Jana Vargas said. She handed Lili the colored paper that had been crumpled in her left fist. “If you care to learn the truth…”

      Lili glanced at the wrinkled flyer. Her face lighted. “A Gypsy carnival? Ooh, with fortune-telling!”

      Grundy went pale.

      Wilhelm put out a meaty hand, inserting it between the two young women. “Princess, I must insist.”

      Grundy recovered. She moved deliberately in front of Jana, nudging the princess along after she’d snatched away the flyer. It fluttered to the floor. “Shall we go upstairs to regroup?” she said, a steely non-question. “Rodger, you may call for the car. We’ve had quite a day. It’s time we retired to our hotel. We shall send regrets to Madam Mayor.”

      “Just when events were getting interesting,” Lili protested, although she allowed herself to be shepherded up the stairs.

      “You may use the museum snack shop,” Simon told Henry as they followed, noticing that the chief had retrieved the paper and was examining it closely. “It’s empty and quiet. Three doors, but we’re keeping everything locked up tight, so they’re all inaccessible. Here’s the key.” He slipped a key from the ring he carried in his pocket. The same master key opened several doors in the working areas of the museum: storage, kitchen, supplies, lavatories. No state secrets there.

      “I’ll get this back to you as soon as we’ve finished. I want to stash Ms. Vargas, here—” Henry still hadn’t let go of the woman’s arm “—while I oversee procedures outdoors.”

      “Stash me?” Jana said. “I’m a human being, not a piece of luggage. You can’t detain me for no good reason.”

      “I have reason. You may be a conspirator in the pick-pocketing scheme, which means it’s well within my bounds of authority to hold you for questioning. For the time being, consider yourself in police custody, Ms. Vargas. You will remain so until my suspicions are proved.”

      “Or disproved,” she retorted with a double helping of sarcasm.

      A troubled sympathy shone from Lili’s eyes when she looked back over her shoulder. Wilhelm and Grundy hustled her into the reception area of Simon’s office.

      The princess was a soft touch, Simon deduced. He remembered the weight and curve of her breast. Very soft.

      “I’m perfectly fine,” Lili was saying to Mrs. Grundy when he entered the inner sanctum of his office. She brushed aside the woman’s solicitations. “Please stop fussing. No one came near me.” Lili’s eyes sought Simon’s. They danced with a saucy, provocative humor. “Alas, as Simon would say,” she added, lifting her brows at him.

      “Princess!” Grundy aimed a narrow look at Simon. “Really, my dear, you’ll give Mr. Tremayne the wrong impression.”

      She laughed. “Oh, I do hope so.” She clapped her hands. “And now, I’d like to freshen up. Mr. Tremayne, sir, I hate to be a bother, but would you please unlock the ladies’ room for me—again?”

      Simon bowed. “Your wish is my command. After you, Princess.”

      Lili stopped the older pair from following her. “I’ll be quite all right. Simon will stand guard.”

      He patted his pocket. “I gave the key to Henry. Just a moment.” He rummaged in his desk. “Here’s a spare.”

      The princess whipped the key from his fingers when he held it up. “Thank you, kind sir.” She put her nose in the air and swept from the office, stepping along the corridor with a sassy rhythm to her shoulders and hips. He was amused, knowing she was putting on the grand lady act for his benefit.

      “I’ll do it,” she said when he tried to take the key from her. She turned it in the lock, then palmed it. Watching his face, she pushed open the swinging door to the lavatory with her backside. “I can wipe my bottom by myself, too.”

      He nearly choked, recovering only as the door was swinging shut. “There’s a limit to my servitude, Princess,” he called after her, hoping for her Tinkerbell laugh. She did not disappoint. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, making a small gesture of triumph with his clenched fists. He might not make her swoon, but at least he could make her laugh.

      He cracked an eye open. Oops. At the other end of the hallway, Grundy and Wilhelm were peering from the office door. Simon shrugged somewhat sheepishly and thrust his hands in his pockets. The party was a disaster and the museum’s funds were at serious risk. Didn’t matter.

      One laugh from the princess and he felt like a million bucks.

      Unfortunately, Simon couldn’t quite sustain his exhilaration when Lili still hadn’t emerged thirteen minutes later—he knew the time exactly because he’d been checking his watch. He paced the width of the corridor, counting under his breath. Another three minutes went by, excruciatingly slowly. Neither Grundy nor Wilhelm had budged. In fact, they were beginning to glare, as if he’d done something to delay the princess.

      He went to the door and knocked. “Princess?”

      No answer.

      He put his ear to it. Silence—not even running water. The princess’s attendants were coming toward him now, craning their necks to hear. “Princess Lili?” he called, pushing the door open an inch. “Are you doing okay?”

      There came a thud, then a crash. A female grunt. “Fiddlesticks!”

      “Lili?” Simon burst into the room, followed by Wilhelm and Grundy. His first shocking sight of the princess sent him skidding to a stop, with the other two piling up behind him.

      Mrs. Grundy pushed by. “Princess, what have you done now?”

      “I think my foot is stuck,” Lili said. She was sprawled on the tile floor with her tight skirt rucked up around her hips, showing a good portion of a rounded, wriggling, panty-clad backside. One foot was trapped in a swivel-lid trash can, which lay on its side, a number of crumpled tissues spewing from its maw.

      “Shall I call an ambulance?” Wilhelm said.

      “Heavens, no!” Lili stopped wriggling and lifted her head and shoulders off the floor, her hands splayed on the tiles. She looked up at them with big, dark, glistening eyes, like an innocent baby seal. “Nothing’s broken. Just help me pull my leg out of here, for pity’s sake.”

      Mrs. Grundy knelt awkwardly and tugged Lili’s skirt down a few inches. “However did you…?”

      “It was an accident.”

      Wilhelm crouched, his big hands outspread, hesitating to place them on the exposed royal thigh. He went for the trash can instead, giving it a wrench.

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