‘And that’s the problem with Nicky,’ she said much later that evening, as she and George shared a whisky nightcap together, ‘he is always exquisitely well mannered; always on the surface so very amiable and agreeable, but when it comes down to it, you can never have a truly honest conversation with him. He’s as inscrutable as a sphinx. Do you know what his attitude will be, if Emperor Franz Josef continues stirring things up in the Balkans, or haven’t you asked him?’

‘I haven’t asked him. I left that up to Willy. And as Willy seems happy enough with Nicky’s attitude, so am I. Now are you coming to bed so that I can turn the light off?’

‘Yes, and yes.’ She slipped into the giant canopied bed that dominated the cavernous room they had been allocated. Sliding her hand into his, she said, ‘I shall be wearing a gown of embroidered Indian cloth of gold and a crown, not a tiara, tomorrow. And the rest of my jewellery – earrings, choker, necklaces, brooches and bracelets – will all feature Teck family emeralds.’

‘You’ll look magnificent, darling. No woman there will be able to hold a candle to you. I can’t begin to tell you what a lucky chap I think I am.’

She squeezed his hand tightly. ‘Goodnight, George. God bless.

He squeezed it back, a deeply contented man. ‘Goodnight, May darling. Pleasant dreams.’

Despite the huge number of guests – the all-in complete number, counting all the minor royalties from the kingdoms, duchies and principalities that made up Germany’s empire, was nearly a thousand – the wedding ceremony and celebrations were carried out with typical Teutonic efficiency. At five o’clock in the afternoon Sissy and her retinue walked in stately procession towards the palace chapel, followed by Ernst and his retinue. Inside, the chapel was packed to capacity, with several of the wedding guests not even able to squeeze inside.

There were emotional tears in May’s eyes as Sissy and Ernst made their vows and George whispered gruffly, ‘No need for tears if their marriage proves to be as happy as ours is.’

He often said such things, and she always thought of how they could be even happier if only they shared the same interests. George, however, was quite uninterested in art and books, and even his own family history, something she found fascinating, was, to George, jaw-droppingly boring. George only had two interests. The first was his stamp collection, and the second was tramping through woods, or over moors, with a shotgun tucked beneath his arm. And just as he couldn’t share her interests, she couldn’t share his. Like Toria’s cattiness, it was something she had come to terms with, but she did sincerely hope that Ernst’s and Sissy’s meeting of hearts was also a meeting of minds.