out to find Victoria,” Bill agreed.
“Who could have taken it? Why would they risk it when the station’s on lockdown?” she wondered aloud.
“We’ll find it,” Fiona said. “I’ll tell Gary, um, Mr. Thompson that it’s missing, and we can search all the bags.” She practically ran out of the office.
“Poor girl,” Victoria said. “She’s embarrassed. I hope she finds my bag though. Everything’s in it. My sketches, my pencils, my wallet, everything,” she finished on a note that sounded perilously close to whining—or was that hysteria—to her own ears. She pursed her lips together to keep from saying more.
***
Bill clenched his fists behind his back at the note of tears he heard in Victoria’s voice. Even in the short time he’d known her, he knew it wasn’t the laptop and wallet that disturbed her. It had to be losing the more personal items, her drawing pad in particular, which upset her the most.
His gaze fell on Fiona. She went to the bathroom in the middle of a crisis? That didn’t sound like her. Not after the story Mr. Thompson had told them. Plus, for the first time since he’d met her, she’d lost her cool when questioned about whether or not she’d left the office, a minor difference but still there. He made a mental note to have her checked out. Then again, he could just have DI Whimsey check it out as he apparently recognized Bill from another case. Damn it.
Fortunately, Whimsey had been professional enough not to out him in front of everyone. What was more, the DI asked for his opinion. His gaze fell on Fiona again. The longer he thought about it, the more he thought he’d better have Whimsey do something about her. He sent a quick text via his hand held and, at Whimsey’s sharp glance, subtly nodded.
They left the offices and searched high and low for the perpetrator. It impressed Bill, not only at the thoroughness of the search, but the manner in which Scotland Yard and the station’s security guards worked together quickly and efficiently. He needed to let the king know the station and Bobbies in the area were a testament to the crown.
When he could steal a minute from Victoria and the others, he made a quick call. “Hello, Your Majesty.”
“How’s my favorite Louis?”
“Going by one of my other names, Your Highness.”
“Which one?”
“William, or Bill, my lord.”
“You favor that one, though the title is not much used.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Speaking of titles, did you know that Victoria doesn’t use her highest title here? Or even ask people to acknowledge that she possesses any titles? I’d like you to do a run on the Earl of Louisiana. That is his title from his uncle who died without issue. He lost a lot of titles when his wife died. I think he didn’t know that would be the case, particularly the loss of the Duchy.”
“He didn’t. The duchess asked us to keep that quiet, along with a few others of theirs that they’re in line for. Victoria is actually in line for the Scottish Throne, though she doesn’t know it.”
Bill sat down on the nearest bench. That put a kink in his plans. Although...
“You still there, Bill?”
“It’s just. I’d...” He held back a regretful sigh. He could probably ask the king, but dare he? “I’d planned on marrying her after her birthday, Your Highness.”
The silence on the other end was deafening to Bill. “I see. Are you asking for our permission then?”
“You know I have to, as I now possess the knowledge of her heritage. She is a princess. I’d also like it if you’d seek the permission of the Scottish king, as I cannot properly do it without breaking away from here. And it appears I’m needed, as you had the wisdom to foresee.”
“Oh my good friend, you flatter. You have saved our royal hide more than once. You’d be a grand man to have on the Scottish throne along with the spirited Victoria.”
“Also, I want her father investigated.” Where’d that come from? It slipped