May enjoyed house parties. There would be twenty or thirty fellow guests and, as it was winter, there would be shooting for the men in Luton Hoo’s acres of private woodland and companionable walks for the ladies in parkland and gardens designed by Capability Brown. In the afternoon there would be charades and whist and other card games and, for the more daring, the never out-of-date fun of sliding down a magnificent staircase on a tea-tray. Best of all, in the evening there would be dancing.

The first person she ran into, even before she had reached the bedroom she had been allocated, was Maudie.

‘Goody,’ Maudie hugged her tight, ‘I was hoping you would be here. Let’s find a quiet corner and have a glass of champagne and a chat. I want to hear all about your invite to Balmoral. What was it all about? When Toria heard Granny Queen had invited you there for ten days and that no one else had been invited, apart from Dolly, she was so jealous she practically spat nails.’

Once they had found a quiet corner, May said, ‘I have no more idea than you have, Maudie, as to why I was invited. There were times when I thought I was there to be given one of Granny Queen’s matchmaking chats, but no name was ever mentioned, and now I think I was reading too much into things. I think she was just a little lonely and wanted someone with whom she could reminisce about your dear departed Grandpa Albert. I heard all about how she had fallen in love with him at first sight and, on the day she took me to his memorial cairn, how she is looking forward to being with him again after she dies. All in all, it was a bizarre few days.’

‘Well, if that was it, I’m crushed with disappointment. Someone else who is crushed with disappointment is Georgie. In October he finally made his long-planned-for proposal to Missy – and she turned him down! And what she said when she did so is a corker, for she told him they could still be chums. Chums! It’s an expression I must remember, if I ever find myself in a similar position. Rumour is that Aunt Marie has long had Nando Hohenzollern in mind as a husband for her daughter, and at the thought of Nando being preferred over Georgie, Mama and Papa are so livid that they are no longer on speaking terms with any of the Edinburghs. Not that Aunt Marie will care. Being Russian, she enjoys emotional fireworks.’