I was taken up the grand staircase this time, not whisked along back corridors. We came out in the area between the music and throne rooms where receptions are held. I wondered if this was to be a formal occasion until the footman kept going all the way to the end of the hall. He opened a closed door for me, leading to the family’s private apartments. I found I was holding my breath until I couldn’t hold it any longer when finally a door was opened and I was shown into a pleasant, ordinary sitting room. This lacked the grandeur of the state rooms and was where the royal couple relaxed on the rare occasions they weren’t working. At least it probably meant that I wasn’t going to have to face strangers at luncheon, which was a relief.

“Lady Georgiana, ma’am,” the footman said, then he bowed and backed out of the royal presence. I hadn’t noticed the queen at first because she was standing at the window, gazing out at the gardens. She turned to me and extended a hand.

“Georgiana, my dear. How good of you to come at such short notice.”

As if one refused a queen. They no longer chopped off heads but one obeyed nonetheless.

“It’s very good to see you, ma’am,” I said, crossing the room to take her hand, curtsy and kiss her cheek—a maneuver that required exquisite timing, which I hadn’t yet mastered and always resulted in a bumped nose.

She looked back at the window. “The gardens look so bleak at this time of year, don’t they? And what horrible weather we’ve been having. First fog and now rain. The king has been in a bad humor about being cooped up for so long. His doctor forbade him to go out during the fog, you know. With his delicate lungs he couldn’t be exposed to the soot in the air.”

“I quite agree, ma’am. I went out in the fog earlier this week and it was beastly. Nothing like the mist in the country. It was like breathing liquid soot.”

She nodded and, still holding my hand, she led me across the room to a sofa. “Your brother—he has recovered from his accident?”

“Almost, ma’am. At least he’s up and walking again but he has come to London to see a specialist.”

“A disgusting thing to have happened,” she said. “And the same person apparently shot at my granddaughter. It was your quick wits that saved her.”

“And the princess’s own cool head,” I said. “She’s a splendid little rider, isn’t she?”

The queen beamed. Nothing pleased her more than talking about her granddaughters.