A few months ago I thought I had fallen on my feet for once when I was asked to educate the newly discovered heir to the Duke of Eynsford into the ways of polite society. Kingsdowne Place, seat of the dukes of Eynsford, was everything a stately home should be—impressively opulent and elegant with gorgeous grounds, a stable full of fine horses, and meals that were a succession of extravagant courses. There was no hint at Kingsdowne Place that the rest of the world was in a depression. But my stay had not exactly gone according to plan. There had been plots and a murder, and when the dust had settled I had stayed on out of duty to give companionship to the dowager duchess. My nanny and governess were very hot on duty. I had had it rammed down my throat since I could toddle. Rannochs prized duty above diadems. (Actually I’d have prized the diadems if I’d owned any.) Did I mention that I am Lady Georgiana Rannoch, and cousin to His Majesty King George?

I confess that my task had been made more pleasant because Darcy O’Mara, the man I hoped to marry one day, had stayed on with me. But Darcy never remained in one place for long. He was a true adventurer and was always off on strange missions to far-flung parts of the globe. Anyway, he had gone again, the younger members of the Eynsford clan had dispersed and I was left at a great house with a dowager duchess, her two half-dotty sisters and several dozen servants. I was longing for younger company and a change of scenery when my mother came to the rescue.

For those of you who don’t know my mother, let me assure you that she is not the maternal type. But on that afternoon when I was having tea on the lawn with the three weird sisters the dowager duchess Edwina paused with her teacup raised on its way to her lips.

“That sounds like a motorcar coming up the drive,” she said. “How extraordinary. Whoever could it be?”

“We aren’t expecting anybody, are we?” her sister Princess Charlotte Orlovski asked, swiveling around in her seat so that she could get a better look at the drive. “My spirit guide didn’t warn me of a visitor.” (The Princess Orlovski was heavily into spiritualism.)

“It’s about time we had company,” the third sister, the naughty and poorly named Virginia chimed in. “It’s been as dull as ditchwater since everybody left. I’m sure poor young Georgiana is dying of boredom and frustration. I know I am.”

“Oh, no, of course not,” I said hastily and untruthfully.