“Too bad. I expect you’ll find one soon,” my mother said languidly, her gaze moving to Hugo as she spoke. “I might as well join you for lunch.”

“You can’t afford to make Max jealous, can you?” I said. “Think of all those lovely Parisian gowns.”

“When Max is talking about engines, he wouldn’t notice if a zeppelin dropped on his head.” She lowered herself onto the best rug and stretched out luxuriantly. “So what are we eating?” she said. “Don’t tell me that Mrs. McPherson has made pasties.”

The Americans eyed her with suspicion.

“Don’t mind little moi,” she said, waving a gracious hand in their direction. “I eat like a sparrow.”

“Pardon me, but I don’t think we’ve met.” Babe lowered herself to the rug beside my mother.

“My mother, the former Duchess of Rannoch,” I said hastily, and saw Mummy frown. She hated to admit she had a daughter of my age.

“And you were the famous actress Claire Daniels, weren’t you?” Countess Von Sauer exclaimed.

“Once upon a time I suppose I had my modicum of fame,” Mother said with brilliantly pretended humility.

Of course, after that she was the center of attention.

Unfortunately the wind had come up and was blowing dust and pine needles onto the food, while the speed racers were testing their engine, emitting the occasional loud roar that jangled all our nerves and made conversation difficult. Mother, of course, made herself the center of attention instantly. She turned the full force of her dazzling charm onto Hugo so that he was transformed into her lap dog. I even began to feel a little sorry for him. As for the Americans, it was as if they were in the presence of a visiting goddess, which I suppose she was.

I sat on the two inches of blanket my mother was not occupying, staring out across the lake, simply not able to get into the swing of their conversation. Too many worrying thoughts were buzzing around my head. These thoughts ranged from Sir Jeremy’s mandate to Binky’s trap to Darcy and the mysterious dark woman. What was I supposed to do about any of the above? And why was I supposed to step in and rescue other people when nobody seemed to show any interest in me whatsoever? I was looking along the edge of the lake—I suppose that subconsciously I was trying to catch a glimpse of Darcy and see if he’d actually gone off with that Conchita woman—when I sat up, suddenly alert. Someone was creeping through the stand of fir trees on the point behind us. I watched as the figure darted from tree to tree, obviously not wanting to be seen. And he was coming closer. Thoughts of the trap and the reported accidents to the royal heirs instantly flashed across my mind.