She looked at the biscuit she was holding and giggled. ‘Do you know, Alicky, that Marie biscuits are named after Mama? They were made to commemorate her wedding to Papa, and her indignation at having a biscuit named after her knows no bounds. I swear it’s the reason Granny Queen has all her royal palaces stocked full of them and has reared all her vast family on them. It means Mama cannot go anywhere without a plate of them appearing at teatime, and her knowing people are inwardly sniggering every time they pop one in their mouths. It’s very naughty of Granny Queen, don’t you think? But then Granny Queen and Mama are old sparring partners – and all in all, Mama generally scores most of the points.’

After the Edinburghs had departed for England, Alicky’s father said to her, ‘I’ve never known Ernie get on with anyone in the way he has with Victoria Melita over these last few days. They got on splendidly, don’t you think?’

‘Victoria Melita?’

‘Ducky. Though why she’s been saddled with such an unladylike pet name, I can’t imagine. However, she has certainly solved a problem for Granny Queen. I have already sent a telegram saying there could no better match for Ernie than Ducky.’

Alicky liked Ducky. Like Missy, her shockability factor could be very entertaining. However, meeting up with her on family occasions was one thing; Ducky becoming a future Grand Duchess of Hesse and by Rhine and usurping her – Alicky’s – position as First Lady was quite another. And besides, although it was true Ducky and Ernie had enjoyed a lot of fun together, it was because both of them were reckless risk-takers on the ice and because they shared a taste for practical jokes. Alicky couldn’t see either fact indicating that a marriage between them would be a marriage made in heaven.

‘Why the hell can’t Papa leave well alone?’ Ernie said explosively, when she broke the news to him that, thanks to their papa, Granny Queen now thought him and Ducky an ideal marital match. ‘Ducky is great, but I don’t want her as a wife. I don’t want anyone as a wife.’

‘Then tell Papa that, before Granny Queen begins setting a wedding date.’

He clenched his teeth. At twenty-three, he might be able to get away with putting marriage off for another handful of years, but time was running out and soon his obstinacy in remaining single would have tongues wagging. It might be best to take the bull by the horns and prepare his father for the news that he wasn’t going to like, by putting him in the picture now.

His father’s reaction was exactly as Ernie had feared it would be.

‘A pansy?’ he had roared. ‘A pansy? No son of mine is a bloody pansy! All you need, boy, is a stiff purge of castor oil. A bloody pansy, indeed!’