I had to say I was feeling a little peckish myself and glad when Darcy found a café in the square, where we had a simple but acceptable meal of meat pie and peas, followed by a baked jam roll. Zou Zou declared it to be quaint and interesting, as if she was eating a native delicacy in darkest Africa. You’d have thought that the meal would have put the thought of food from the princess’s mind, but when we reached the village of Kilhenny she spotted a bakery and decided she needed to add some biscuits and cakes to the food she was taking to Oona, and some treats for Darcy’s father too. “Poor man. He doesn’t look as if he’s had a decent meal in months.”

“Oona did invite him to dinner a couple of nights ago, but he wouldn’t come,” Darcy said. “I suppose I can understand how he feels. If you’re worried about your very life, the last thing you want is small talk.”

“Look, there’s Mrs. McNalley,” I said, as I spotted a group of women standing under an awning, deep in gossip. “We need to talk to her. We should ask her whether she took food down to your father that evening. I still suspect he might have been drugged and what better way than putting the substance in his food.”

“Good idea.” Darcy came around to help us out of the motorcar. The rain had indeed turned into a light snow and flakes fluttered down around us as Zou Zou headed for the bakery and we made our way across to Mrs. McNalley.

“Well now, Mr. Darcy,” she said. “And how is your poor father doing? Are you sure he doesn’t want me to come in and do some cooking and cleaning for him? I don’t like the thought of him trying to look after himself.”

“Not at the moment, Mrs. McNalley,” Darcy said. “I’m with him and I’ll make sure he eats. But speaking of food, I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Oh yes?” She moved away from the other women.

“On the evening that Mr. Roach was killed, did you take my father down some food from the castle?”

“I did,” she said. “I made a big pot of stew and left it in the oven, keeping warm, for when Mr. Roach wanted to eat. And I put some in a bowl to take down to his lordship when I went home.”

“So that bowl was left on a counter for a while?” Darcy asked. “Could it have been tampered with?”

“Tampered with? What on earth are you suggesting?”

“That someone might have drugged his lordship’s food,” I said.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” she said. “Drugged his food? What for?”