For once I was not about to deny being a highness rather than a lady. The woman’s face was now a picture of embarrassment. “Oh, Your Highness. I had no idea,” she stammered. “Of course I should have realized that the ship was rolling.”

“I really am terribly sorry,” I said. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine as soon as I’ve wiped this off my face.”

“And I’ll be happy to send you another cocktail to take the place of the spilled one,” said the maître d’. “The captain is waiting to meet you, Your Highness.”

And I was whisked away, this time clutching his arm. We came to a central table for eight. Four people were already seated at it—the captain, looking resplendent in a uniform decorated with much gold braid, a striking Indian woman dripping with jewels, and a stout middle-aged couple—the wife wearing a rather frumpy brown lace dress. The men rose to their feet.

“Miss Daniels, Lady Georgiana. Welcome. I’m Captain Harrison. Do take a seat.” The captain motioned for Mummy to sit next to him and a chair was pulled out for me beside the Indian lady. “May I introduce our table companions: Princess Promila, daughter of the late maharaja of Kashmir, and Sir Digby and Lady Porter. Sir Digby is the head of the British Industries Development Board.” He gestured toward my mother and me. “I’m sure you’re familiar with Claire Daniels, former duchess of Rannoch, and her daughter, Lady Georgiana.”

“Claire Daniels. Of course,” Sir Digby said, looking at Mummy with keen interest. “Saw you on stage back in the good old days before the war, when you were still acting, didn’t we, old dear? Absolutely cracking performance. Absolutely cracking.”

Lady Porter managed a weak smile. I could tell that she had looked forward to being the leading light of the captain’s table and was now already eclipsed by a princess, a famous actress and me. Princess Promila gave me a warm smile as I took my place beside her. “You are a grandchild of the old queen, are you not?”

“Great-granddaughter,” I said.

“My father spoke so highly of her. He stayed at Osborne House when he was a young man and came home so impressed. Such a little woman, he would say, and yet she commands an empire that spans across the world. He was a great champion of the British, my father.” She spoke with a clipped, almost exaggerated English accent with no trace of Indian in it. She had either had an English governess or been educated at an English girls’ school.

“Do you still live in India?” I asked.