‘Sir—’ Philip starts through gritted teeth, but her father turns on him.

‘I’ve heard enough from you, young man. How dare you s-saunter in here and tell me you want to get engaged to my daughter when I f-forbade you to mention the matter only yesterday?’

‘Papa,’ Elizabeth interrupts before Philip can speak. ‘I was the one who asked Philip to marry me.’

‘Then he should have said no!’

‘I didn’t want to say no.’ Philip’s cool voice cuts through her father’s fury and abruptly the King subsides. He sinks back into his leather chair, still glowering, but Elizabeth is glad to see the red light of rage has left his face.

‘You should both have waited.’

‘We have waited, Papa,’ she says gently.

‘Then wait longer!’

Elizabeth and Philip exchange a look. ‘Papa, we’re not going to undo this,’ she says. ‘We want to get married.’

The King sighs and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

‘Please, Papa.’ She doesn’t want to plead, but she knows that for all his fury, her father loves her. He won’t want her to be unhappy.

Sure enough, his shoulders slump. ‘It doesn’t sound as if either of you are going to listen to sense,’ he grumbles, but Elizabeth can hear the resignation in his voice.

Wisely, she and Philip stay silent.

‘Very well,’ the King says heavily at last. ‘I’ll allow the betrothal but—’ He holds up a hand as Elizabeth opens her mouth to thank him. ‘But,’ he repeats, ‘the engagement is to remain secret for now. No announcement will be made for at least six months.’

‘Six months!’ Philip echoes in dismay.

‘Think yourself lucky I’m allowing it at all,’ the King says. ‘I’ll have to talk to the Prime Minister; he’s not going to be happy about this either. It will complicate the diplomatic situation considerably. So there’ll be no announcement, no ring, no wedding plans until I say so. Is that clear?’

Elizabeth meets Philip’s rueful gaze, and he nods. It is disappointing to have to wait, but this is clearly the best they are going to get. And the first hurdle has been cleared. They are committed to each other now.

‘Yes, sir,’ Philip says. ‘Thank you.’

‘Yes, Papa. Thank you, Papa.’

The King throws himself back in his chair. ‘We’ll have a small celebration with your mother and sister tonight, but that’s it.’ He points at Philip. ‘You’d better leave tomorrow before all the gossips get wind of this.’

‘Oh, Papa!’ Elizabeth protests.

‘Tomorrow,’ he says firmly. ‘You and Lilibet may meet in London, but you are not to even consider making the relationship public for six months and until I have discussed your marriage with the Prime Minister. Not a word to anyone, do you hear me?’

‘May I at least tell my immediate family?’ Philip says with studied restraint.

The King sighs irritably before giving a jerky nod. ‘No one else,’ he warns. ‘I mean it. Not a word, do you hear me?’