'... It was the night of the storm, I don't know when -'
'More than a week ago,' put in Terence. 'We had a lot of damage, trees down on the estate.'
'Well, we were delayed. We landed down the coast -somewhere - North Berwick, I think -'
'Are you sure?' asked Faro.
'Yes.'
Faro's frown deepened. What on earth was the entourage from Luxoria doing landing at North Berwick when Leith was the obvious port?
'... The coachman took the wrong route and the road was flooded, a bridge - somewhere - collapsed and we were trying to find a road round when we were swept into the river. I don't remember what happened exactly.'
She shook her head. 'I came to myself lying in a haycart. A carter fished me out. He told me what had happened, that he was heading to Edinburgh. I felt very uneasy about his attitude, he was - ' she paused unhappily '- somewhat over-familiar.'
Even in borrowed robes and a tearful, distressed condition, she still managed to look remarkably attractive, enough for Faro not to find the carter's amorous arousal in the least surprising.
'... So I pointed to a house and said that was my destination and the people were expecting me. They would be so glad I was safe -'
Again she paused, biting her lip, reliving that frightening moment. 'It was that village down the road with a church and a loch - we passed on our way here.'
'Duddingston,' prompted Sir Hedley.
She nodded eagerly. 'I was terribly afraid. I waited until the carter was out of sight, then I wandered along the road. I knocked at your door -' She paused and looked at Sir Hedley. Then I'm afraid I must have fainted.'
'Quite so, quite so.' Sir Hedley patted her hand and looked up at Vince. 'You know the rest, young fellow. Took her in, saw you passing -'
Faro glanced in Vince's direction. This was not exactly the same story that Vince had told him about a flying stone. Perhaps that had been Miss Fortescue's polite invention to save the embarrassment of that tale of an amorous carter, and Sir Hedley had presumed the rest. He listened intently as she continued: 'Sir Hedley has been so kind to me,' She smiled up at him gratefully. 'He was too much of a gentleman to ask any questions. I thought my memory would never come back - and indeed, until this minute - everyone will be so relieved to know I am unhurt.'
As she spoke, looks were exchanged, looks of growing horror.
Terence bent over her. 'My dear Miss Fortescue, I'm afraid we haven't yet had a sight of Her Highness.'
'You haven't?' She looked round. 'Undoubtedly she will have made her way direct to Holyroodhouse to see Her Majesty.' She smiled for the first time. 'Her Highness is very resourceful. And independent.'
All now looked hopefully towards Faro. He shook his head.
'We have not been informed -'
'But she could be there?' said Miss Fortescue desperately.
'Not without the knowledge of the Edinburgh City Police, miss. You will appreciate that Her Majesty's residences are very carefully guarded -'
'We expected her to arrive at Lethie several days ago,' Terence interrupted. 'When she did not appear, we presumed that she had been delayed. Or that the visit had been cancelled.'
'Tell me, miss, what does your mistress look like?' Faro asked as gently as he could, hoping Miss Forstecue would not realise the sinister implications of such a remark. If she did not, then others did. The reproachful looks in his direction said louder than words that this was a brutal question expressing their own secret and unspoken fears.
Miss Fortescue seemed merely bewildered. She shook her head. 'What does she look like?' she repeated. 'I have a photograph of her. At least - I had one in my luggage. But why -?' Then as the significance dawned, she whispered: 'You surely don't think -'
'No, no, miss,' Faro lied. 'But if you can tell us a little more about your mistress it would help -'
He quailed under Miss Fortescue's cold stare.
'What is it you wish to know, sir?'
Faro attempted to smile reassuringly, and tried hard not to sound like a grim detective soullessly pursuing information for a missing persons enquiry. He had no alternative but to plunge ahead.
'Her appearance, miss, what she was wearing and so forth.'
Miss Fortescue continued to stare at him, and he carried on hastily. 'Look, miss, presumably your mistress was badly shaken by the accident, as you were. She might have had a shock, the same reactions as you've suffered.' Even as he spoke he felt the possibility of two lost memories was very thin indeed.
Miss Fortescue was clearly having a struggle with her own memory. At last she said: 'She's about my height, a bit more well-built, fairish hair, blue eyes. Does that help?'
It did. That slight description thoroughly alarmed Faro, fitting so neatly the corpse of the woman in the West Bow who had been found in such mysterious circumstances... ten days ago.
'The coachman,' said Miss Fortescue helpfully. 'He should be able to tell you what happened. Where he took her and so forth.'
The silence that greeted this observation needed further explanation. With admirable self-control she stifled a scream.
'You mean - he never - Oh dear - the poor man. He must have drowned.'
Now the same thought was in everyone's mind. Miss Fortescue had indeed been lucky to survive. The coachman and the carriage, and Her Highness the Grand Duchess of Luxoria had not been so fortunate. At this moment, they were lost without trace, swept out by the tide, out of the estuary and into the deep and secret waters of the wild North Sea. They might be washed up anywhere, even in Norway, if their bodies lasted that long.
Faro shuddered. How was this news to be broken to Her Majesty? And to whom would fall the
