Leaving, I shut the door behind me and smoothed the tapestry into place, and encountered Hamilton coming out of the servants’ quarters. I asked him about the names.

“Castle Craig? Gleneagles? Dof-something? No, I can’t say I’ve heard of any of those places.”

“So you don’t think they are around here?”

“They are not any towns with which I’m familiar, my lady,” he repeated.

I wasn’t sure what to do next. Pass on the information to Sir Jeremy, I supposed. I also wondered what Fig would say if I requested the use of a car again. All that petrol to and from Balmoral would be beginning to add up. As I came into the great hall, I heard the sound of voices coming from the breakfast room.

“And I rather think they’ve gone out riding.” It was Fig’s voice, sounding annoyed.

But her words triggered a memory: I had promised Princess Elizabeth that I would take her out riding today. I had a perfect excuse to return to Balmoral and to pass on my information to Sir Jeremy. I went upstairs to change into my jodhpurs and hacking jacket, then I grabbed the remaining bun from the plate in Binky’s study and went out to find a motorcar.

“I am most happy to drive you, my lady,” our chauffeur said in a peeved voice when I asked for the keys.

“I really think you should be available in case Their Graces require you,” I said diplomatically. “Besides, it’s a rare treat for me to be able to drive myself.”

“I understand, my lady.” He handed me the keys and I climbed into the estate car. The moment I turned out of the carriage court I remembered that I hadn’t visited my grandfather yet. I should at least pop in to see him before I left. He’d be happy to know I was doing something harmless like going out riding with a princess. I pulled off the drive and left the estate car under the shade of a horse chestnut tree, then crossed the kitchen garden to the cottage.

I was just passing the runner beans when I had a brilliant idea: I broke into a run and arrived at Granddad’s cottage out of breath.

“Where’s the fire?” he asked.

“What fire?”

“You came bursting in here like all the ’ounds of ’ell were after you,” he said. “Don’t tell me something else ’as ’appened.”

“No, but I’ve just had a wonderful idea. I’m about to motor over to Balmoral. I wondered if you’d like to come along, as my chauffeur.”

He looked at me then burst out laughing. “As your chauffeur? I wouldn’t be no ruddy good at that, ducks. I can’t drive. I never learned. Never had no need either, what with living in the Smoke.”