“They can’t have been too successful today,” the queen said, turning back to us. “How do they expect to see birds through this mist? I don’t hear any shooting going on, do you? I hope everything’s all right.” She strode ahead with Lady Ainslie while the rest of us followed.

“It’s touching to see how concerned she is about the king, isn’t it?” Lady Marchmont muttered, drawing closer to Lady Peebles. “Did you ever see a couple so attached to each other?”

“Especially since she was supposed to marry his brother,” Lady Peebles replied. “I must say she changed her allegiance rather rapidly.”

“Well, wouldn’t you, given the choice?” Lady Marchmont retorted.

I was close enough to overhear this little exchange, and turned back to them. “I remember hearing about that,” I said. “The Duke of Clarence, wasn’t it? What exactly happened? He died, didn’t he?”

“Right before the wedding.”

“How tragic.”

“Oh no, my dear,” Lady Peebles said. “It was a great blessing for everyone. A great blessing for England. He would have made an awful king—so lacking in moral fiber. He was a completely dissolute person, an embarrassment to the family.”

Lady Marchmont nodded. “There was that scandal with the homosexual club, wasn’t there?”

Lady Peebles shot her a glance, warning that such matters probably shouldn’t be discussed in front of my delicate ears.

“She probably doesn’t know anything about that kind of thing,” Lady Marchmont said, dismissing me with a wave of her hand. “I know I didn’t at her age. No idea such creatures existed. I remember someone saying that one of my suitors was a ‘pansy boy’ and I thought that meant he was keen on gardening.”

I laughed with them.

“So was the Duke of Clarence really a homosexual?” I asked.

“I suspect he was AC/DC,” Lady Marchmont said. “They say he couldn’t keep his hands off the maids, and there were rumors of visits to prostitutes. . . .”

“I’ve even heard it suggested that he was Jack the Ripper,” Lady Peebles said with a disparaging sniff, “although that’s simply out of the question.”

“But I suspect the rumors about prostitutes are true enough. And there were enough tales of drugs and drink. No, I think Her Majesty had a lucky escape. He would have led her a frightful dance. King George may be a boring old stick, but at least he’s dependable. And he clearly adores her. And England is in good hands.”

“How did the Duke of Clarence die?” I asked.