C.C. Benison •
Death at Buckingham Palace •

Being named Jane Bee has its disadvantages. Some people think it’s funny to tell you to buzz off. Others want to sing you every bee-related song they know. Jane’s employer, however, is above such whimsy. She has more important things to occupy her . . . like running an empire.

Because Jane is no ordinary housemaid; she’s on staff at Buckingham Palace. Her days are spent hoovering miles of grand hallways, dusting priceless antiques, and trying to scrape sticky pink chewing gum off Axminster carpets. Then a young footman drops dead, and the queen—ever a shrewd judge of character—enlists Jane’s aid to make discreet inquiries.

Jane’s got game, and who is better placed than a servant to gather information without being noticed? Soon she’s following a trail that begins with Debrett’s Peerage and leads all the way back to Jack the Ripper.

Appearing here in her private capacity, Queen Elizabeth comes across as practical, considerate, and altogether charming. “HM has this odd talent for making you feel, for the time you are with her, that you are the most interesting thing in the world.” She pours tea for Jane, asks after her family, and takes delight in showing her a secret passage. “Once you get over the initial astonishment that you are having a conversation with the woman whose face has been on every postage stamp you ever licked, you find she is quite straightforward.”

Though not without her foibles. “The Queen, the world’s thriftiest billionaire, was famous for telling people to put on a sweater if they found Buck House chilly.” Then there are those corgis. When one nips her ankle, Jane mentally dubs it a canis horribilis.

Two sequels provide a Bee’s-eye view of Sandringham House and Windsor Castle, respectively—your chance to peek inside the British royal residences.