‘Elizabeth, will you do me the honour, the very great honour, of being my wife?’

The moment is a little spoiled by Susan, who thinks he wants to play and jumps up at him, but Philip nudges her away without looking at her and watches instead the smile that blooms on Elizabeth’s face.

‘I will,’ she says

Getting to his feet, Philip slips the ring on to her finger. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she says, turning her hand so the diamonds flash in the sunlight.

Elizabeth has seen the design but hasn’t been able to try the ring on before now and Philip frowns as he sees it slipping around her finger.

‘It’s too big,’ he says in concern. ‘We should have got it sized. Do you want to wait until it fits properly?’

‘No,’ Elizabeth says. She presses her fingers together to keep the ring in place. ‘It’ll be fine like this for the photos. Let’s not give Papa another reason for a delay. We’ve waited long enough.’

Chapter 39

London, July 1947

‘“Buckingham Palace, 10^th July 1947”,’ David Milford Haven reads out in a suitably portentous voice. He is lounging on a sofa in Chester Street, making great play of studying the Court Circular in The Times. ‘“It is with the greatest pleasure that the King and Queen announce the betrothal of their dearly beloved daughter The Princess Elizabeth to Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten, R.N.,” – that’s you, cousin – “son of the late Prince Andrew of Greece and Princess Andrew” – then they add Princess Alice of Battenberg in brackets for the benefit of the hoi polloi who might otherwise wonder how she could be called Andrew – “to which union the King has gladly given his consent.”’

‘“Gladly” might be stretching it,’ Philip says with a grim smile. ‘The King could hardly bring himself to smile at the family celebration last night.’

David drops The Times onto the floor beside him. He is recovering from what he declared that morning to be the hangover from hell. When Philip returned from the decorous celebrations at the palace, he crossed David on his way out to the Savoy. David urged him to go out with him, but mindful of his new role, Philip opted to stay at home – and then spent the rest of the evening wishing he’d gone out and belatedly considering the implications of getting married to the most visible woman in the country. Does this mean he is going to have to spend the rest of his life behaving well?

‘Well, you did it,’ David congratulates him.

‘I did. Uncle Dickie will be pleased.’

David raises an eyebrow at the lack of enthusiasm in his voice. ‘You’re the one who ought to be pleased. You’re engaged to marry the most eligible girl in the world.’

‘Yes, and I’m just coming to realise what it will mean,’ Philip confesses. ‘Last night, we had champagne at the palace, and they were already talking about how I would need a detective and a valet and a social secretary and God knows who else to dance attendance on me! What am I going to do with a social secretary?’ he demands. ‘And then there was a lot of talk about protocol and duty.’ He blows out a sigh like a horse.