They listened as she switched from the French she’d been using for the Ambassador and the Comtesse de Saint-Aubain to German for one of the Kaiser’s cousins. Catching sight of them, the grande dame deftly ushered the couples who preceded them straight through into the ballroom. She greeted Joe with a kiss on each cheek and a murmured message in English: ‘He’s here. Early’ into the right ear and ‘Half an hour ago’ into the left.
Alarming news, but Sandilands recovered to say swiftly: ‘Then we’ll go straight in. Your Highness, may I present Miss Lily Wentworth … the Honourable Lily Wentworth, a cousin from Scotland who’s visiting the capital.’
‘Your Highness. So good of you to ask me, ma’am,’ Lily said, dropping a curtsy.
Oh, Lord! He’d forgotten to mention the curtsy. She must have been observing the ladies ahead of her in the queue, he guessed, since the movement was entirely gracious and correct.
‘I hear you’re an expert dancer, Miss Wentworth. Come. I’ll present you to a worthy partner.’
She sailed away before them, headdress bobbing to left and right as she led the way between the dozens of small tables fringing the dance floor. Several couples were already moving enthusiastically in time to a foxtrot. The band was installed at the far end of the room. Rank on rank of green and gold jacketed musicians rose up on an ascending flight of wide stages. And in front of this smart company stood Cecil Cardew, undulating gently. He was famous for the smoothness and quality of his musicians and the strictness of his rhythm. Nothing but the best on offer this evening.
They were accosted just short of the dance floor by a handsome but unsmiling young man who seized Lily’s hand and kissed it lingeringly. The ominous words he was murmuring were aimed not at her but sideways at Sandilands.
‘There’s a problem, sir. It’s HRH. He’s disappeared. Ten minutes ago. Here one minute, gone the next. Cloakrooms and kitchens negative and secure. Doors and exteriors ditto. Kidnapped? Got bored and buggered off? It’s been known. Dunno. I think he’s still here somewhere.’
Sandilands’ flash of alarm was swiftly controlled. ‘Entertain Miss Wentworth, will you, Ruptert?’
He strode off, spoke briefly to the princess and then began to quarter the room.