been torn down from Tante Beatrice’s four-poster bed. Mimi jumped onto the bed and scampered around the vast counterpane, searching for her mistress.
Amelie rang the bell loudly but no-one came.
‘Where are the servants?’ asked Amelie. ‘They always answer the bell. My uncle would be furious if he had to wait more than a minute for a servant to appear.’
‘I’d say they ran off with all the valuables when they heard your uncle and aunt were dead,’ guessed Tilly dryly.
‘Mais non,’ disagreed Amelie. ‘Our servants would never do anything like that. They love my uncle like a father. They must have packed everything up and taken it back to Henri at the chateau for safekeeping.’
Tilly glanced at Amelie in disbelief, thinking of the Comte. She didn’t think anyone could love him as a father, perhaps not even his own son, Henri.
The girls checked the tiny chamber where the servants slept, prepared meals and stored their meagre belongings. This was empty too. A pair of stockings, half darned, was abandoned on the table. The girls wandered back into Tante Beatrice’s bedroom.
‘Tante Beatrice’s jewellery chest is gone.’ Amelie pointed to the spot where the chest usually stood. ‘Who did this?’
‘What should we do?’ asked Tilly. ‘Call the police or the guards?’
‘Non. The guards protect the royal family,’ Amelie explained. ‘So many people come and go in the palace constantly, it is impossible for them to monitor everything. They try to move the beggars on, but they just change position. Things are stolen all the time, even from the King and Queen’s own chambers.’
Amelie shook her head helplessly, overwhelmed by the shock and the mess.
‘We must do something,’ insisted Tilly. ‘There must be someone we should tell.’
‘Jacques said he would deal with everything,’ Amelie reminded her. ‘Jacques has worked for the family for years. He will know what to do.’
A crystal perfume bottle was smashed on the floor, filling the boudoir with its strong, sweet odour. Among the shattered shards was a scrap of paper.
Tilly stooped to pick it up but struggled to read the scrawled, ornate handwriting.
Taking the paper from Tilly with shaking hands, Amelie read the note out loud:
‘For my darling daughter, Amelie-Mathilde-Louise.
Here are my wedding rubies, a talisman of my love for you.
I will watch over you always.
Maman.’
Amelie collapsed to her knees and sobbed, clutching the faded note from her long-dead mother.
‘Amelie, Amelie,’ crooned Tilly, hugging her around the shoulders. ‘It’s all right.’
Gently, Tilly lifted Amelie to her feet and helped her back to her own room. This room had also been searched, leaving drawers open and powder spilt on the floor.
Amelie fell onto the bed, curling up into a ball and weeping as though her heart would break. Tilly tried to comfort her, but at last just sat beside her quietly and waited. Eventually, Amelie could cry no more.
No-one came near and Amelie was in a daze of helpless grief. Mimi comforted her with gentle pats and chitters.
Tilly felt frightened, torn between staying with Amelie in the Comte’s apartment or going out and looking for help. At last Tilly ventured out into the corridor. She saw a chambermaid carrying a bucket of water, heading to the next-door apartment.
‘Excuse me,’ said Tilly, mustering up her courage. ‘Did you notice anyone emptying the Montjoyeuse apartment this morning? We think they may have been robbed.’
The chambermaid rested her heavy bucket on the floor, wiping her red chapped hands over her perspiring face.
‘Oui,’ she replied. ‘I saw all the Montjoyeuse servants carrying trunks and portmanteaus out this morning. They seemed in a dreadful hurry. I asked Claudette where they were going, and she said they had received orders to pack up quickly. She said there had been some sort of trouble but didn’t tell me what it was.’
‘I think there was a death in the family,’
Amelie rang the bell loudly but no-one came.
‘Where are the servants?’ asked Amelie. ‘They always answer the bell. My uncle would be furious if he had to wait more than a minute for a servant to appear.’
‘I’d say they ran off with all the valuables when they heard your uncle and aunt were dead,’ guessed Tilly dryly.
‘Mais non,’ disagreed Amelie. ‘Our servants would never do anything like that. They love my uncle like a father. They must have packed everything up and taken it back to Henri at the chateau for safekeeping.’
Tilly glanced at Amelie in disbelief, thinking of the Comte. She didn’t think anyone could love him as a father, perhaps not even his own son, Henri.
The girls checked the tiny chamber where the servants slept, prepared meals and stored their meagre belongings. This was empty too. A pair of stockings, half darned, was abandoned on the table. The girls wandered back into Tante Beatrice’s bedroom.
‘Tante Beatrice’s jewellery chest is gone.’ Amelie pointed to the spot where the chest usually stood. ‘Who did this?’
‘What should we do?’ asked Tilly. ‘Call the police or the guards?’
‘Non. The guards protect the royal family,’ Amelie explained. ‘So many people come and go in the palace constantly, it is impossible for them to monitor everything. They try to move the beggars on, but they just change position. Things are stolen all the time, even from the King and Queen’s own chambers.’
Amelie shook her head helplessly, overwhelmed by the shock and the mess.
‘We must do something,’ insisted Tilly. ‘There must be someone we should tell.’
‘Jacques said he would deal with everything,’ Amelie reminded her. ‘Jacques has worked for the family for years. He will know what to do.’
A crystal perfume bottle was smashed on the floor, filling the boudoir with its strong, sweet odour. Among the shattered shards was a scrap of paper.
Tilly stooped to pick it up but struggled to read the scrawled, ornate handwriting.
Taking the paper from Tilly with shaking hands, Amelie read the note out loud:
‘For my darling daughter, Amelie-Mathilde-Louise.
Here are my wedding rubies, a talisman of my love for you.
I will watch over you always.
Maman.’
Amelie collapsed to her knees and sobbed, clutching the faded note from her long-dead mother.
‘Amelie, Amelie,’ crooned Tilly, hugging her around the shoulders. ‘It’s all right.’
Gently, Tilly lifted Amelie to her feet and helped her back to her own room. This room had also been searched, leaving drawers open and powder spilt on the floor.
Amelie fell onto the bed, curling up into a ball and weeping as though her heart would break. Tilly tried to comfort her, but at last just sat beside her quietly and waited. Eventually, Amelie could cry no more.
No-one came near and Amelie was in a daze of helpless grief. Mimi comforted her with gentle pats and chitters.
Tilly felt frightened, torn between staying with Amelie in the Comte’s apartment or going out and looking for help. At last Tilly ventured out into the corridor. She saw a chambermaid carrying a bucket of water, heading to the next-door apartment.
‘Excuse me,’ said Tilly, mustering up her courage. ‘Did you notice anyone emptying the Montjoyeuse apartment this morning? We think they may have been robbed.’
The chambermaid rested her heavy bucket on the floor, wiping her red chapped hands over her perspiring face.
‘Oui,’ she replied. ‘I saw all the Montjoyeuse servants carrying trunks and portmanteaus out this morning. They seemed in a dreadful hurry. I asked Claudette where they were going, and she said they had received orders to pack up quickly. She said there had been some sort of trouble but didn’t tell me what it was.’
‘I think there was a death in the family,’