Murder Most Royal

He was already looking forward to a life of painting, birdwatching and visits from friends. The Queen loved the little farmhouse, too, where it was possible to relax without servants or fuss, with the rugby on the radio and an uninterrupted view of the sky towards the sea.

She would visit as often as she could, though she knew he would manage perfectly well without her, and even better without the panoply of advisers and attendants who inevitably followed in her wake. Today, meanwhile, they were outside in their coats and binoculars, walking back from the hides Philip had had built so they could watch the waterfowl side by side.

‘You’re looking thoughtful, Lilibet,’ he said. ‘Anything up?’

She was glad he’d asked. She wanted to talk to him about something. He was one of the few people who would understand her concerns without thinking them medieval – which in many ways they were.

‘It’s Hugh St Cyr,’ she said.

‘I’m not surprised. Still grieving hard for Lee, no doubt.

It was good of you to visit yesterday.’

‘It wasn’t exactly that.’ She looked across at her husband, who was as always adapting his long stride to match her much shorter one, and bending down slightly to listen. ‘It was something he said about Valentine. Hugh sounded very forward-thinking. Rozie was most impressed.’

Philip glanced at her sharply. ‘Forward-thinking? Hugh? Are you sure?’

‘I know. I was surprised, too.’

‘I always had him down as mentally stuck in the Renaissance.

Solid man, very sound. But many’s the time I’ve talked about one of my innovations on the farm and he’s raised his eyebrow at me a good half-inch. I mean, the man’s an expert on the Metaphysical poets, for God’s sake.’

‘Mmm,’ the Queen agreed. ‘And yet, he’s leaving Ladybridge to Flora in his will.’

‘And Valentine’s getting married.’

‘What? Really? To a girl? I thought he was with that feller who came round at Christmas. Business partner, my foot.

’

‘And what does Hugh think about it all?’

‘He seems pleased that it will put the St Cyrs in the history books.’

‘No. Not close family. The line will die out.’

The Queen nodded, to him and to herself. She wasn’t being absurd to think this situation unusual.

Philip knew what she knew – and what Sir Simon would explain to Rozie, if she asked: that it was impossible in the British aristocracy for a male married couple to produce a legitimate heir.