Chapter Twenty: Find That Girl
"How's the party?" Jamil Khan's cheerful greeting was like a breath of fresh air at the suffocating, stuffy indoor party.
"Stupefying," Mary Tudor replied brightly, rattling the ice in her tall frosted glass. The king's bored daughter had already lost count of how many cool Blue Dreamers she'd put away as the evening dragged on. The trendy summer cocktail was all the rage, but the dizzy buzz of alcohol did little to fill the aching emptiness within.
"These people look like zombies, only with great summer tans," Jamil Khan joked. It was true. Most of the British aristocrats in town this weekend had just returned from Cannes or St. Tropez.
"Beware of titled, British zombies stalking the Riviera!" Mary laughed loudly at her own joke, the unexpected sound causing several aristocratic heads to turn. Someone took a picture just as Jamil Khan was resting a friendly hand on her bare shoulder.
"Who did that?" The bright flash blinded Mary's eyes for a moment, but the fine dark hairs on the back of her neck stood up. There was something very familiar about the slim, dark female form already gliding out of sight.
"Just some girl photographer." Jamil Khan's warm brown eyes were full of friendly concern. "Come on, let's get out of here. Too many titled zombies are hungry for gossip about the living!"
"Something funny about that girl." Mary was frowning, trying to put two and two together. But her thoughts were very fuzzy all of a sudden. She must have drunk just one Blue Dreamer too many! Loyal and helpful as always, Jamil Khan was busy guiding the king's dizzy daughter through the thick crowd of perfumed gawkers and glittering busybodies, away from all the stuffy guests and out into the sweet cool air of the summer night.
"Want to find that girl." Mary was still in a fog as Jamil Khan gently helped her into the back seat of his father's long black limousine.
"Of course, Mary." Jamil Khan was already snapping her seatbelt into place with strong brown hands. He was always very efficient. "We'll look into it together first thing in the morning."
"Find that girl." Mary suddenly found that she was terribly sleepy. In fact she could not keep her eyes open. But she knew Jamil Khan would look out for her. It was so good to have a friend she could rely on, someone who didn't expect her to be anyone but herself. Mary wanted to thank her loyal friend for all he did for her. But the powerful engine purred to life and she closed her eyes, her heavy head sinking gratefully onto Jamil Khan's shoulder.
The next day, the tabloids were full of pictures of Princess Mary Tudor enjoying herself at the fancy society party, with Jamil Khan right by her side.
"Love is in the air," Queen Jane proclaimed, embracing her stepdaughter at breakfast with a naughty smirk on her lovely face.
"It wasn't like that." Mary felt rather cross after being shaken awake by a giggling parlor maid only a few moments ago. Still in her lace bedgown, she slumped into her usual seat in the queen's private parlor and immediately reached for the silver coffee pot.
"Jamil Khan is very keen on being of service to the royal family," Jane commented, adding heaps of sugar and cream to her own coffee. The queen was just like a baby when it came to sweets. "He's handsome and clever and kind, and also very, very rich. What more could a girl ask for?"
"He's a good friend." Mary sipped her coffee in silence, wishing she could remember more about last night. She remembered laughing her head off at the party, drawing all those curious looks.
"Yes, and so trustworthy. He brought you home safe and sound."
"Mm." Mary got the message. She'd had far too many drinks. Thanks to the alcohol, she'd been out cold when the sleek black limousine pulled up to the palace gates. She remembered Jamil Khan taking charge, giving orders to the servants. The princess has had a drop too much to drink. Please put her to bed. That part Mary wished she could forget! But there was something else, before that. Something she'd seen, a flash or something that caught her eye. If only she could remember . . .
"Cheer up, sleepyhead." Queen Jane was smiling as she took a fancy frosted pastry from her stepdaughter's untouched plate. "For a girl who hates the camera, you do photograph very well. That shot where you're laughing with your head thrown back highlights your mature, well-developed figure. You've got a body!"
"Everyone has a body." Mary loved Jane very much, but she hated it when her stepmother reverted to her fashion-model days. "Anyway, you always say the right photographer can make any woman look good."
"Yes, and this girl Maxie really is quite good."
"Maxie? Did you say Maxie?"
"Mm." Queen Jane was so busy enjoying a second pastry that she didn't notice the way her stepdaughter perked up at once.