Henry shot her his attractive Battenberg smile. ‘The original Scottish castle was very wee, as they say in Scotland. What you see in front of you is Prince Albert’s rebuilt and far larger creation, and we need to be grateful to him. Comfortable amenities in the original castle would have been nil. Thanks to Albert, Balmoral is stuffed with water-closets and there are more than enough bathrooms.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Dolly was thankful he could look forward to a hot bath after the long hours of travelling up from London. ‘Am I going to be able to bag a stag while I’m here, Henry? A Balmoral stag would be a real feather in my cap.’

‘Absolutely. In November, stalking is obligatory for male guests, as are kilts. You’ll soon find yourself wearing one, even if you haven’t brought one in your luggage.’

On arrival they were greeted by Beatrice, and by two of Beatrice and Henry’s four young children.

‘Mama will greet you in a little while, when you have had time to freshen up,’ Beatrice said as a housekeeper whisked May’s maid and Dolly’s valet away and the luggage was taken care of. ‘The children have been so looking forward to your arrival. Drino, Ena, say hello and shake hands nicely with Uncle Dolly and Aunt May.’

As five-year-old Alexander and four-year-old Ena shyly did as they were bid, May wondered why so many of Aunt Queen’s tribe were christened with one name and then known only by a shortened version of it or a nickname, and of how bewildering to a child the habit of referring to members of the family as Aunt and Uncle was, when the relationship was one of distant cousinship.

‘When you are rested, May, and when you have seen Mama, I’ll take you on a visit to the nursery to see Leopold and baby Maurice,’ Beatrice said, accompanying them to their rooms. ‘They are both such little sweethearts, May. I’m sure you are going to utterly adore them.’

May had never understood the raptures so many women went into when confronted with a small mewling infant, much preferring children who were older and could be talked to. She knew, however, that this view wasn’t one she could happily share with Beatrice, who had given birth to Maurice only weeks ago.

‘Maurice is a very healthy little boy,’ Beatrice said, answering the question that hovered over all of Aunt Queen’s grandsons, adding with a new note in her voice – a note of anxiety – ‘but Leopold is more . . . delicate. It is something we are hoping he will grow out of.’