“Lady Georgiana,” he said, extending his hand to me. “I was just told that you were in the building. Forgive me for not welcoming you. Beauchamp-Chough. Major, Life Guards. I’m currently acting as His Royal Highness Prince George’s equerry and have been put in charge of this upcoming bun fight.”

“Bun fight?” Countess Irmtraut exclaimed. “There is to be a fight with pastries? This is an old English custom?”

The major and I both laughed.

“Actually it’s a familiar term for any kind of celebration, hence, the wedding,” the major said.

“I see. Another English joke.” Her face did not crack a smile, but the major exchanged a brief glance with me and there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

He was younger than I expected, but certainly of military bearing, tall, erect, with a neat little blond mustache. Quite good-looking, I noted.

“How do you do, Major Beauchamp-Chough.” I shook his hand while Countess Irmtraut stood and glowered.

“Most people call me B-C,” he said. “Or Major B-C, if you wish.” He grinned. “It refers to my initials, not my age.”

“But it is impossible for you to have been born before Christ,” Irmtraut said. “Surely you did not think we would believe you to be so old.”

When neither of us replied she sighed. “I see. Another English joke. Your country has much humor, I think.”

“Oh, absolutely. A laugh a minute,” he said, and to my amusement she checked the watch that was pinned to the front of her dress.

“Major Beauchamp-Chough,” she said, “I requested that someone be dispatched to find me some pickled herring. So far nobody has returned with any.”

“Perhaps they are still fishing for it in the Round Pond,” he suggested, his face expressionless.

“But no.” Countess Irmtraut shook her head emphatically. “They will find no herring in a pond. It is a fish of the oceans.”

The major caught my eye again and almost winked. I decided that I liked him.

“It was more English humor, Countess.”

“I do not understand this English humor,” she said grouchily. “I will await news of my herrings in my room.” And she swept out.

“Not the easiest lady, I’m afraid,” the major said. “Fortunately the princess is quite charming and easy to get along with.”

“You’ve already met her?”

“I was lucky enough to visit her parents with His Royal Highness,” he said. “Prince George and his parents will be going to meet her from the boat train tomorrow afternoon. They will be bringing her here and tomorrow evening there will be a dinner at Buckingham Palace for her to meet the family. You will be invited, of course, and will travel with Princess Marina in her motorcar.”

“Thank you very much,” I stammered. “Now if you would please have someone show me my room. I think I need to get out of these wet clothes before I make a bigger puddle on the floor.”