It occurred to me that I hadn’t really called him anything because his English was very limited, so it probably hadn’t mattered.

“No, darling. The Saxe-Coburg-Gotha lot were on his mother’s side, so he’s just plain Herr, more’s the pity. I do rather miss being a duchess. One got such good service in Paris, where such things matter.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of dukes floating around for you to snag,” I said.

“The trouble is that I’ve become rather attached to Max,” she said. “He does have his faults—like not being able to speak English and preferring to live in Germany with all those dumplings. But he is rather sweet and cuddly, isn’t he?”

It was like asking if a grizzly bear was sweet and cuddly. I refrained from commenting. “So you’ve come to join the royal shooting party?”

“And of course Max is interested in seeing how his engine is performing.” She giggled. “Frankly, between the two of us, his engine performs remarkably well for his age.”

She smiled coyly and held out her hand as Max came toward her. “You remember my daughter Georgiana, don’t you, Max darling?”

Max clicked his heels and gave me a nodding bow.

“I hear you’ve come to shoot with the prince,” I said, pronouncing each word slowly.

“Ja. Shoot wiz prince. Is gut.”

“And he came to your hunting lodge last winter?”

“Ja. Vee shoot vild boar. Big tooths.”

“Tusks, Max. Boars have tusks,” my mother corrected. She patted his hand. “His English is improving wonderfully, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” I said.

Paolo and the young American descended on us and started talking about engines and thrust again.

“This is the part I find horribly boring,” my mother said. “I think I shall go back for a lie-down, if one is allowed to lie down at Balmoral. It’s all horribly hearty and outdoorsy, isn’t it?”

I felt a ridiculous wave of disappointment that my mother hadn’t seen me for months and now had no wish to spend any time with me. I should have become used to it by now, but I hadn’t. “You could go and cheer up poor Binky,” I said and related the saga of his accident.

“If I can sneak in without encountering the dreaded wife,” she said, “maybe I’ll do that. I’ve always had a soft spot for your brother.” And off she went. He wasn’t her son, of course, but she had briefly been his stepmother and I knew he was fond of her.