“So, tell me”—he looked at me with interest—“how many people actually stand between you and the throne?”

“I’m thirty-fourth in line, I believe,” I said. “Unless somebody’s had a baby in the meantime and pushed me further back.”

“Thirty-fourth, eh?”

“I hope you’re not thinking of marrying me in the hopes of gaining the crown of England one day!”

He laughed. “That would be a trump card for the Irish, wouldn’t it? King of England, or rather Prince Consort of England.”

I laughed too. “I used to do that when I was small—lie in bed and work out ways to kill off all those ahead of me in the line of succession. Now I’m grown up, you couldn’t pay me enough to be queen. Well, actually that’s a lie. If my cousin David proposed, I’d probably accept.”

“The Prince of Wales? You think he’s a good catch?”

I looked surprised. “Yes, don’t you?”

“He’s a mama’s boy,” Darcy said scornfully. “Haven’t you noticed? He’s looking for a mummy. He doesn’t want a wife.”

“I think you’re wrong. He’s just waiting to find a suitable one.”

“Well, this latest flame won’t be suitable,” Darcy said.

“Have you met her?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And?”

“Not suitable. Charming enough, but definitely an older woman and far too worldly-wise. They’d never let her be queen.”

“Do you think she wants to be?”

“Well, as of now she’s still married to someone else, so it’s probably a moot point,” he said. “But I shouldn’t keep your own hopes up. Your cousin David is never going to pick you as his consort. And frankly, you’d soon tire of him.”

“Why? I think he’s most amusing, and he’s a topping dancer.”

“He’s a lightweight,” Darcy said. “No substance to him. A moth flitting around, trying to find out what to do with himself. He’ll make a rotten king.”

“I think he’ll step up when the time comes,” I said huffily. “We have all been brought up with duty thrust down our throats. I’m sure David will do his one day.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Anyway,” I whispered confidentially, “I’ve been asked to spy on her.” I realized as I said it that too much champagne had loosened my tongue and I should not be confiding things like this to strangers, but by the time I had processed this information, it was too late.

“To spy on her? By whom?” Darcy was clearly interested.

“The queen. I’m supposed to attend a house party to which the prince and his lady friend have both been invited, then report back to HM.”

“You’ll probably have nothing good to say about her.” Darcy grinned. “Men universally find her delightful and women universally find something catty to say about her.”

“I’m sure I shall be very fair in my assessment,” I said. “I am not prone to cattiness.”

“That’s one of the things I think I might like about you,” Darcy said. “And there are others.” He looked around. The sun had gone down and it had become instantly chilly. “Best get you home before you freeze in your posh frock.”