Bruce and Beatrice locked eyes with each other and nodded. ‘Miss Crawford, these are the stories that the American public would cherish. You know we love you all in the States, right? But this kind of stuff will make America worship your royal family and the whole of Great Britain.’

Crawfie suddenly worried she might have said too much. ‘I would need the Queen’s approval before I say anything,’ she said carefully.

‘Of course, that’s no problem. We wouldn’t want you to get into trouble, would we?’ Beatrice gave a tinkling laugh, which went some way to allaying Crawfie’s unease.

George had finished his second glass of whisky, but Bruce did not get him another, which irritated him. He did his best deals after a few whiskies – always had done, especially at the bank. A decent lunch with a new customer always managed to fatten the bank’s coffers.

Unfortunately, one such client, a wealthy widow, had complained to his bosses after he had clumsily felt her thigh under the table, and under her skirt. He was almost sacked on the spot, until he explained that to sack the husband of the royal family’s governess, when the royal family held prodigious accounts at the bank, was not a good idea. He got away with a decent pension and a lump sum of ‘redundancy pay’. If anybody asked, he said he had left on account of his health.

Now, sitting in this swanky hotel suite, with two wealthy business people who wanted his Marion, he smelt the dollars. He had sat and listened long enough. It was time for him to take control.

‘Would you be paying my wife for her stories?’

Beatrice momentarily dropped her smile, but quickly picked it up again. ‘Certainly. I understand that you have not been married long. A sum to help you with your new life together would of course be paid.’

George was pleased. He had set his marker down and these two swindlers would recognize it. He wasn’t a man to be messed with. ‘I look forward to opening our negotiations.’ He stood up. ‘Thank you for your hospitality.’

‘It has been our pleasure.’ Bruce shook George’s hand. ‘We shall be in touch. It’s good to know, in principle, that Mrs Buthlay is on board.’

‘As long as I have the explicit permission of the Queen,’ Marion repeated.

Beatrice smiled, and came to hug Marion. ‘My dear, we can’t wait to get started. Bruce and I are returning to the States tomorrow and we will get the ball rolling. It may take a few months before we can come back to England. We have a lot to organize!’

Outside on the pavement, George looped his arm through Marion’s. ‘You were fantastic in there – you way you hooked them in. They can’t wait to get their greedy little hands all over you. And they will pay. You, my dear, are an unmined asset.’

Marion was nervous. ‘I don’t want to make trouble, George.’