But she didn’t intend to be intimidated. Tammy dumped her pack on the red carpet, wiped a little dust from her overalls and looked about her with every appearance of nonchalance.

‘Will you be all right?’ Charles had emerged from the car and was looking at Marc with some anxiety. He seemed to think Tammy might somehow contaminate Marc. ‘You don’t wish to stay at the embassy tonight, Your Highness?’

‘I’ll be fine here.’ Marc glanced at his watch. ‘If you could collect me and the boy at eleven tomorrow…? The flight is at two.’

‘I’ll do that.’ With a last worried glance at Tammy, Charles disappeared back into the limo-which left Marc and Tammy standing on the red carpet together.

A prince with his princess? Tammy looked Marc up and down, then glanced down at her worn boots and almost smiled.

Almost. Smiling was actually a long way from what she felt like doing.

‘Take me to Henry.’

‘You don’t want to clean up first?’

She glared at him then. Really glared. ‘How old did you tell me Henry was?’

‘Ten months.’

‘You think he’s going to judge me because of a little dirt?’

‘I…no.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

The concierge was still hovering, holding the door for them to enter, but by his expression Tammy could tell that given half a hint he’d grab her and haul her away. She looked the type who’d be annoying the customers, not paying to be here.

‘It’s all right,’ she told him. ‘I’m not about to mug His Royal Highness. I just want to see my nephew.’ She heaved her pack up over her shoulder and stomped through into the plush foyer, leaving Marc to follow.

Marc stared after her for a long moment-and then shrugged and followed.

The suite Henry and his nanny were occupying was on the sixth floor. Marc knocked once, knocked again, and the door finally swung wide.