‘There has never been fresh hope. Worse, I’ve been told by Granny Queen that I can’t fudge the issue of marriage any longer. Unless I take matters into my own hands, she will be announcing my engagement to Mossy at the end of the month.’ He hesitated and then said, ‘Do you remember how, five years or so ago at Marlborough House, I told you about the Queen’s list of possible brides for me? It was the first really personal conversation we ever had and was, I think, the start of what I like to think has become friendship – and you have been just as good a friend to Hélène as you have been to me.’

The fire crackled and spat. Eddy cleared his throat. ‘And so it occurred to me, May, that it would be much better for me to marry someone I like, and someone who is a friend, than it would be for me to marry someone who would never understand about my love for Hélène. And so I have brought you here to ask if you will marry me.’ He dropped down on one knee in front of her. ‘Will you, May? Believe me when I say I’d be most awfully grateful if you would.’

The blood drummed in her ears. Her heart slammed against her chest. The ground felt as if it was slipping away beneath her feet. Was it a cruel joke? The kind of joke his father was so infamous for playing? The kind of practical joke Georgie had played so often on her, when they had been children? Were fellow guests now on the other side of the door, about to fall into helpless giggles if May Teck – a Serene Highness not royal enough to marry a royal – made a fool of herself by taking his proposal of marriage seriously?

Time stood still as she waited for him to realize that she had seen through the ruse, her disappointment in him for being a party to it so deep that she didn’t know how she was going to come to terms with it.

But he didn’t rise to his feet, saying, ‘Sorry, May. You’ve seen through the joke.’

He remained where he was, in front of her and on one knee.