‘The music is ending,’ Daniel observed. ‘But our talk is just beginning. I’ve ordered champagne served on the terrace.’

Two hundred pairs of eyes watched him lead her from the floor and through the French windows that led onto the broad terrace. A footman was just laying down a tray bearing two fluted glasses and a bottle. Daniel waved him away, indicated for Lizzie to sit at the small table, and himself did the pouring.

‘So you’re writing a book about my grandfather?’ he said, putting the glass into her hand and seating himself opposite. Through the tall windows Lizzie could see couples swirling by as the dance resumed, and hear the soft swell of music. But she was intensely conscious of the King, watching her closely, as though she was the only person in the world. ‘Why do you wish to do this?’

‘Because he’s fascinated me all my life,’ she replied. ‘Aunt Lizzie told me so much about him, and about Voltavia. She made it sound like a wonderful country.’

‘It is a wonderful country. And I know she had many admirers there. Among whom, of course, was the King.’

‘She always kept the medals and decorations he gave her. She was a compulsive hoarder. I don’t think she ever threw anything away. When she died she left everything to me, and I still have them all-the medals, the scrapbooks, even some of her costumes.’

‘You must have meant a great deal to her.’

‘She was my grandfather’s sister and almost the only family I had. When I was ten my parents died and she took me in. She was thought very scandalous when she was young, but when I knew her she’d become Dame Elizabeth Boothe, and very respectable.’

‘And I suppose you were completely in her confidence?’

Lizzie considered. ‘Not completely. I don’t think she told

everything to anyone. She lived in the public eye but she kept many secrets.’