Free The Royal Assassin by Kate Parker

the group a deep curtsy and said, “I hope I haven’t kept Your Graces waiting.”
    â€œNot at all,” Sussex said. “The coaches are pulling up now.”
    We all walked outside and divided into two groups. Sussex and Blackford took the princess and Lady Raminoff in Sussex’s coach. The rest of us climbed into Hereford’s coach with the help of a footman, and we started off.
    Hyde Park was only a stone’s throw away. But by the time the carriages reached the fashionable road entering the gardens, I could have arrived at the park faster on foot. London traffic was its usual tangle of wagons, carriages, omnibuses, and hansom cabs, blocking and then spitting out vehicles at every crossroad.
    Lady Daisy spent the ride bouncing from one seat to the other, commenting on every sight. The duchess smiled at her daughter’s antics without trying to restrain her. The nursery maid would have her hands full once the child was let loose in the open space.
    The two carriages pulled up together inside the park near the bandstand and we all climbed down into the sunlight of a perfect fall day. Lady Daisy skipped around us, chattering constantly. I walked over to the princess, curtsied deeply, and said, “Shall we begin our lesson?”
    â€œOui.”
She pointed at the carriages and asked what they were called in English. I answered and then she asked about horses, saddles, bridles, and reins.
    A man pedaled past on a bicycle to the joyous shrieks of Lady Daisy. “What is that?” the princess asked.
    I told her as Lady Daisy ran after him, her maid chasing after her as the tail of their parade.
    Turning away from the fashionable traffic, the princess walked along a narrow path, asking the names of trees and flowers. The farther we walked, the princess leading us at a quick pace, the more Lady Raminoff struggled to keep up. Her breathing became labored.
    We reached a bench and the older woman dropped onto itgratefully. “Continue your lesson. I’ll meet you back at the carriage,” she said in French as her chest heaved.
    â€œAs you wish,” the princess responded in a haughty tone and continued without a backward look.
    I glanced over to ask if I could do anything for Lady Raminoff and caught a fleeting expression on her face. She was staring at the princess’s back, and the look she gave her was pure malice.

CHAPTER FIVE

    B OTH dukes stopped and murmured something to Lady Raminoff, standing over her in such a way that they didn’t see her expression. “Go on,” she said through gasps, “I’ve just overexerted myself. I am fine.”
    â€œArthur,” the princess called out in French, “look at this.”
    The Duke of Sussex bowed to the older woman and then sprinted to Princess Kira’s side. “What is it, my love?”
    â€œThe green of the grass in sunshine and in shadow. Look at the shades. Look at the texture. Beautiful.” She continued walking along the path, her view of Lady Raminoff cut off by some large bushes.
    I glanced back at the older woman and saw her frown at me as she made a waving gesture, telling me to catch up to the princess. Since she wouldn’t be chaperoning the princess on this walk, I suspected she wanted me to do her job.
    When I caught up to Princess Kira, I asked in French, “You’re not happy with Lady Raminoff, are you?”
    â€œWhat is the English word for busybody?” she asked.
    I told her.
    â€œAnd the word for interfering . . . and tattletale . . . and grim,” she continued as I translated each word in turn.
    â€œI take your point, but isn’t she acting on your parents’ instructions?” I asked.
    â€œShe’s acting on the orders of the tsar’s mother. Lady Raminoff sees anarchists under every bed and behind every tree. That is prudent in Russia, but not in England.” She gave the duke her arm and continued on her stroll