“One can see a likeness, I suppose,” Princess Charlotte said dubiously. “We should have a séance, young man, to see whether your father wishes to contact you. Also to find out if you’re the one the spirits warned us about. And for whom there is danger.”

“You and your spirits, Charlotte. Such rubbish,” Edwina said. “You’ll have the boy thinking we’re all mad.”

The second gong rang, and Huxstep announced, “Dinner is served, your graces.”

“Isn’t he marvelous?” Adrian whispered to me. “Like a butler in a West End farce.”

“This whole thing feels a little like a farce to me,” I replied.

“As long as it stays amusing and doesn’t turn into melodrama,” Adrian said. “Ceddy is absolutely at boiling point, I can tell you. Personally, I think the boy has potential, don’t you?”

Darcy had taken the arm of Princess Charlotte, so Adrian escorted me into dinner. I sat beside Jack, thinking he might need some help. Sure enough, he looked down at the lines of cutlery then glanced up at me. “What’s all this in aid of?” he muttered.

“Different knives and forks for each course. The round one is the soup spoon. The oddly shaped knife and fork are for fish. One works from the outside inward. Just watch what I do.”

“You mean we’re going to eat all this food? It’s a wonder you folks don’t explode.”

“We only take a few mouthfuls of each course,” I said.

Jack shook his head. “Stone the flaming crows,” he said. “Tucker at home starts when someone throws a dead sheep on the back porch, then someone skins it, cuts it up and puts in on the barbie. And we eat it with our fingers, mostly.”

Soup arrived. Everyone tipped soup plates away from them except Jack, who also slurped loudly.

“I don’t see the rolls. Frederick?” Edwina looked in annoyance.

“They’re down here. You want a roll?” Jack said amiably. “Here you go then.” And to my utter amazement he threw one down the table in her directions. “You want butter with that?”

“No, thank you!” Edwina said hastily, clearly expecting the butter dish to be lobbed in her direction.

Whitebait followed and Jack was intrigued about eating little fishes whole. “They should let them grow bigger before they catch them,” he said. “More meat on them then.”

When the spring chickens came, one to each person, Jack immediately pulled it apart with his hands and picked up a leg to gnaw. I tapped him gently. “We don’t use our fingers,” I whispered.

“How do you get the meat off the bones then?” He looked perplexed.

“We don’t, really.”

“What a waste.”

“I don’t think this family worries about waste,” I said.

“John—do you ride?” the dowager duchess asked from the head of the table.

“A horse, you mean? My word—I’ve been riding horses since I could walk.”

Edwina looked pleased that there was something they might actually have in common. “Then we’ll have to take you to the hunt that’s coming up,” she said.