“Well, that’s not too surprising, seeing that it’s her family home on the other side of the loch,” Paolo said, and kissed my hand. “You arrived just too late to see my impression of a water bird. I was airborne for several seconds, you know. Quite exhilarating.”

“It’s supposed to stay in the water, or rather on it,” an American voice said behind him. The speaker looked ridiculously young and terribly earnest, peering owlishly through round spectacles.

“That’s the designer, Digby Flute,” Belinda muttered to me. “Father owns film studios in Hollywood. Pots of money. He’s tried breaking the record himself twice and nearly killed himself each time.”

“So now he wants Paolo to kill himself instead? That’s nice of him.”

Belinda smiled. “He’s improved his design and it has a new engine, built in Germany. In fact, speaking of Germany, guess who’s designed and supplied the engine.”

She gestured to a big, blond and very Germanic-looking man who was picking his way toward us from the shore.

“Max!” I exclaimed. “Does that mean my mother is somewhere in the vicinity?”

I hadn’t quite finished this sentence when I saw her. She was standing deep in conversation with two other people I recognized and one I didn’t. The first was a large, pink and frightfully rich young man called Augustus Gormsley, usually known by his nickname of Gussie. The second was Darcy. And with them was a girl I had never met before: darkly exotic looking, slim, petite and at this moment regarding Darcy with smoldering brown eyes. My first temptation was to duck behind a pine tree and disappear, but I was too late. Gussie spotted me.

“I say, it’s your daughter, old bean,” he said to my mother and then beckoned me over. “What-ho, Georgie.”

I had no alternative but to join them. “Hello, Gussie. Darcy. Hello, Mummy.” I managed to sound calm and civil. “What a surprise to see you here.”

“Hello, darling.” My mother and I exchanged the usual air kisses. “You’re looking rather pale,” she said. “Aren’t you well?”

“It’s been a trying summer so far,” I said. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Where are you staying?”

“At Balmoral, darling, where else?”

I couldn’t have been more surprised if she had told me a hermit’s cave on the mountain. “Balmoral? I didn’t realize you were pally with Their Majesties these days.”

“Not me, Max. He took the Prince of Wales shooting at his lodge in the Bohemian Forest last winter and the prince is returning the favor. Besides, it’s all in the family, you know. Max is connected through his Saxe-Coburg-Gotha line.”

“Goodness, I didn’t realize he had royal blood. So should I have been calling him Your Highness all this time?”