“Heaven save us all,” Agatha grumbled from behind her copy of Horse and Rider. Nick’s old friend Annabelle Farthing was on the cover of this magazine, too, in jodhpurs and hanging on to the reins of a beautiful chestnut Thoroughbred. “The ones you already have are terrors. One of your lot took a wee in the drapes at Clarence House.”

“Reminds me a bit of your ex-husband,” Nick said lightly. “How is Julian? Still awful?”

“I assume so, the pig,” Agatha said.

Richard entered, and we all scraped back our chairs and stood. “Be seated,” he said. “First, an update on Her Majesty’s health…”

He droned on in a manner devoted to rationalizing his continued role as regent. Then we worked through his upcoming month of engagements, then Nick’s, Agatha’s, and Edwin’s, and lastly mine. (It was clear that, to Richard, putting me at the end constituted a sick burn.) I stifled a yawn and glanced at Freddie’s usual chair, which sat eerily empty.

“…and then after that, we’re attending a gala premiere of a new play based on the quiz show Countdown,” Elizabeth finished. “It’s going to be marvelous. Ken Branagh is doing all the roles, even the maths lady.”

“Stirring,” Richard said drily. “Finally, Rebecca’s diary. Given some of the hullabaloo from the tour, I’m sure everyone will agree that we’ve seen enough of her for the time being.”

“Much of the press was positive, Dickie,” Agatha pointed out, although it looked like it pained her to say it. “Mummy was pleased. She is still the boss, you know.”

“The Times said they were refreshingly relatable,” Elizabeth piped up.

“And The Sun said they seemed dreadfully common,” Richard retorted.

“The Sun is a rag, and you know it,” Agatha snapped. She glared over at me. “They did a perfectly reasonable job.”

This was officially the nicest thing Agatha had ever said about me, and it gave me a boost.

“Actually, I’ve been working on something about that,” I piped up, and hoped no one could hear my voice shaking. I flicked open my binder.

“Oh no, not another binder person,” Elizabeth murmured.

“I want to keep supporting Nick and Freddie in their work as much as possible,” I said. “But I also don’t want to be seen as a tagalong. I think I should show the public that I can stand on my own, and that I’m taking this job very seriously, and to that end I’ve taken the liberty of compiling some potential patronages I’d like to investigate.”

I pushed the binder across the table to Richard.