‘If he’s a haemophiliac, it isn’t something he’s likely to grow out of,’ Dolly said bluntly an hour later as they headed in the direction of the Queen’s drawing room. ‘This decor is a bit over-much, don’t you think? Tartan, tartan everywhere. Tartan-patterned carpets, tartan-patterned curtains. I bet you anything that the chairs and sofas in the drawing room will be covered in tartan. What the Prime Minister must make of it all when he comes up here for his meetings with her, I can’t imagine.’

May didn’t respond. She was too nervous. Would Aunt Queen come straight out with whatever it was she wished to speak to her about, or would she keep her in suspense? And what if her nervousness was unnecessary and the Queen merely did want nothing more than to get to know her a little better?

The way she was greeted eased her nervousness, for immediately after she had risen from her curtsey to her, the Queen – who was scarcely five foot tall – stood on tiptoe, kissed her on both cheeks and said, ‘What an elegant young lady you have become, May. I do hope you and Dolly had a pleasant journey. I have always enjoyed travelling on a train, although I prefer it if the train doesn’t go too fast. If it does, I always send a message to the driver that he is to slow down.’

Her voluminous black silk dress was relieved by white lace at the neck and cuffs. Over her hair, which was worn in a bun, was a widow’s white cap decorated with two satin streamers. With only minor variations, it was the way she had dressed ever since her beloved Albert had died. Frank had once joked – well out of her hearing – that she could easily be mistaken for an elderly and arthritic housemaid.

He was wrong, of course. Small, plump and plain as she was, Aunt Queen oozed imperial regality.

‘In a moment we will go into the dining room for lunch, and then afterwards Henry will walk with Dolly to nearby Ballochbuie, where there is a cairn that marks his marriage to Beatrice.’ She gave May a surprisingly shy smile. ‘And I would like you to accompany me on my afternoon carriage ride, May. The Scottish air is so pure and invigorating that I go out once in the morning and again in the afternoon, no matter what the weather, for I find it very erfrischend.’

The carriage was a comfortable four-horse open one. With a plaid rug over their knees and without being accompanied by a lady-in-waiting, or by Beatrice, they set off, with May steeling herself for what she was certain was going to be one of Aunt Queen’s matchmaking chats.