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“She must have a spy somewhere,” said Harriet. “I heard the Queen has her spies everywhere.”

“I’m sure she’s just talking in general terms about Tessa’s safety. Tessa is, after all, the mother of the Queen’s great-grandchild.”

“No, I’m sure she knows,” Harriet insisted. “Oh, one is good.”

“Two is better, though, right?” said Dooley.

“Oh, Dooley,” sighed Harriet. “Please go away.”

“Where are the corgis?” asked Dooley now.

I’d been asking myself the same question. The corgis seemed to be nowhere to be found.

“Let’s look outside,” Harriet suggested. “This is our one and only chance to meet the famous corgis and I’m not going to miss it!”

We all hopped from the couch and made our way out the door. A black Range Rover was parked right outside, the door open. Inside, three corgis sat waiting patiently for their human’s return.

So Harriet, being Harriet, wasted no time and introduced herself.

“Hello there, Your Royal Highnesses,” she said, doing a little curtsy. “My name is Harriet, and I’m so very, very pleased to finally meet you!”

The corgis, who looked very similar, were unimpressed.

“You’re a cat,” said the first corgi.

“Excellent powers of observation,” said Harriet without a trace of irony. “I am, indeed, a cat, and I’m also your biggest fan.”

“Cats usually aren’t the biggest fans of dogs,” the corgi pointed out. She was speaking a little huffily, I thought, but Harriet wasn’t deterred.

“Oh, but you’re not just any dogs. You’re the Queen’s corgis!”

The corgi darted a look at me and Brutus and Dooley.

“Hi,” I said when I felt the corgi’s curious glance rake my visage. “My name is Max, and I’m Odelia’s cat. Odelia is a friend of the Duchess and Duke of Essex and we’re all guests at their cottage.”

“You’re friends of Tessa’s?” asked the corgi, quirking an imperious eyebrow.

“That’s right. And we’re also friends of Fluffy. Tessa and Dante’s dog?”

The corgi gave me a supercilious smile.“Of course you would be friends with that runt.”

I had the distinct impression these weren’t the nicest, sweetest dogs. Fame must have gone to their heads. The same thought occurred to Brutus, for he muttered, “What a stuck-up little—”

“I beg your pardon?” The corgi said, raising her voice. She might be stuck-up but she had excellent hearing.

“I was just saying how Odelia is working on amockup of Newtmore Cottage,” said Brutus. “Odelia wants to build a cottage just like this one.”

“Is this Odelia person an architect?”

“No, she’s—”

“A contractor?”

“No, she’s actually—”

“An interior designer? A builder?”

“Um…”

“Then why would she spend her time creating mockups?”

“Oh, do be nice to the cats,” said the second corgi.

I now saw that the corgis had their names in gold-plated tags dangling from their collars. The nasty corgi answered to the name Sweetie, the second one was called Fr?ulein and the third one Molly.

“Tessa’s friends are our friends,” said Fr?ulein now.

Molly chimed in,“Any friend of the Duchess of Essex is a friend of ours. Hop in, cats, and tell us what the word on the street is.”

In spite of the fact that I disliked the corgis, I didn’t want to miss a chance of sitting in the royal vehicle—in the exact same spot the Queen sat! So I hopped in, and so did Harriet, Brutus and Dooley. I have to admit the leather seats were amazing. Soft to the tush and yet firm. Also, the car smelled to lavender.

“They’re not street cats, Molly,” said Sweetie. “Didn’t you pay attention? Their human is a mockup artist.” Her voice dripped with disdain.

“I thoughtall cats were street cats,” said Molly.

“Not all cats, surely. Some cats are domesticated. Though they tend to be adopted by commoners, of course. No royal wants to be seen dead with a cat.”

“Just the idea. Imagine a royal with a cat. How perfectly horrid!”

Both cats laughed, until Fr?ulein said, “Please be nice to the cats. I’m sure they have stories to tell, so let’s hear them out. How are you finding your stay at Newtmore Cottage, cat?” she asked, enunciating every word as if talking to a toddler.

“So far our stay has been perfectly satisfactory,” I said, adopting the same tone.

The corgi smiled at her cohorts.“See? These are clearly intelligent creatures with a certain capacity for conversation.”

“Hey, look here,” said Brutus, starting to get a little hot under his collar, “I’m not going to be insulted by a bunch of stuck-up, nasty—”

“I knew you said stuck-up and not mockup!” said Sweetie.

“We’re not stupid,” said Brutus. “We can tell when we’re being insulted. And you’ve been insulting us from the moment you laid eyes on us.”

“Please, feel free to leave anytime,” said Sweetie, tilting her chin. “In fact, now that I come to think of it…” She sniffed the air. “My sensitive nose has suddenly detected a rather unpleasant smell pervading this fine automobile.”

“Are you suggesting we stink?” Brutus growled.

“I’m suggesting you get out of the car, cat.” Then she leaned in, giving Brutus a dirty look. “Or, to say it in your street lingo, get lost!”