“I might.” They exchanged a grin.

“I think you should all stay for Christmas,” Oona said. “We haven’t had a jolly Christmas in years, have we, Dooley?”

“We haven’t,” he agreed. “Jolly good idea. So what about it? Will you stay?”

Darcy’s father looked at the princess.

“I don’t see why not,” she said.

The next days were caught up in trips to Dublin, answering more police questions, giving evidence against Lola Martinez and hoping that Mickey and Lofty would be caught. And against this background the Christmas preparations were begun. The pudding was stirred for good luck and silver charms were dropped into the batter. Queenie turned out to be a whiz with pastry and made the best mince pies and sausage rolls.

“That girl is a treasure,” Oona said. “I don’t suppose you’d let her stay on with me here? Treadwell is as old as I am and I could certainly do with more help around the house.”

Those words should have been music to my ears. Life without Queenie. No more dresses ruined. No more lost shoes or beds soaked as a result of unscrewed hot water bottles. No more scathing remarks by Fig. But I found myself saying, “I think it would be up to her, Lady Whyte.”

Queenie was called into the room and Oona asked her if she’d like to stay on as cook general. Queenie looked at me. I tried to prevent emotion from showing on my face. Then she shook her head firmly. “I’m sorry, Lady Whyte, but I can’t desert Lady Georgiana after she’s been so good to me and put up with me making a right cock-up of things. My place is with her.”

“Queenie, I don’t want to stand in your way,” I said. “If you want to get more experience of cooking and running a house I think you should stay on with Sir Dooley and Lady Whyte. I don’t even know where I’ll be going after Christmas. I can always call for you if I need you, can’t I?”

She looked at Oona and then at me and gave a beaming smile. “Bob’s yer uncle, my lady,” she said.