Oona beamed at me. “It’s wonderful. Absolutely wonderful, you know. Old Dooley is feeling his oats again. Hasn’t been as perky as this for years. Well done, you.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about helping Old Dooley to be perky but decided he was probably quite harmless. I finished dressing and had eaten a most satisfying breakfast of eggs, bacon and sausage by the time Darcy arrived. Darcy joined me at the breakfast table and tucked into a breakfast himself.

“So what do you think we should do first?” I asked as we found ourselves alone.

He frowned. “Thinking about this in the cold light of day, Georgie, I’m still not at all sure I want to involve you. Now that the word has got out that my father is home at Kilhenny the village is already crawling with reporters. I think it might be wiser if you stayed safely here with Oona and Dooley and you three used your thinking caps from afar.”

“But I want to help, Darcy,” I said. “Nobody will recognize me, I’m sure. If asked I’ll say I’m reporting for the Horse and Hound.”

This made Darcy and Oona chuckle.

“And I’ll hide as we go through the village, if you like.”

“Let her go with you, Darcy,” Oona said. “The girl has a good brain. Your stupid father needs all the help he can get at the moment. Did he appreciate the portion of duck I sent back with you?”

“He pretended not to, but I noticed by this morning that he’d eaten it,” Darcy said.

“You see, stubborn as ever, but we’ll win him round, won’t we, Dooley?” she asked as Dooley poked his head in through the door.

“A splendid day for Wellington today,” he said. “Don’t you want to come up to the attic and see it for yourselves? It’s not every day you can witness an epic battle.”

“They’ve a battle of their own, Dooley,” Oona said. “And frankly you should leave Waterloo until my nephew is exonerated, and put that brilliant mind of yours to saving him.”

Dooley sighed. “Very well, my dear. If you say so. Do you think I should come over with you and talk to him myself? I’d like to hear his side of the story.”

“At the moment I don’t think he’d talk to you, Uncle Dooley. And the problem is that he half believes he is guilty. He went on a bender, you see. Blind drunk. Can’t remember a thing.”

“Dear me, that’s too worrying,” Dooley said. “Even I couldn’t come up with a good defense for a man who thinks he has done the deed. Perhaps he did.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Oona said hotly. “You know Thaddy too well for that, Dooley. When has he ever shown signs of violence?”