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thought that meant the Isle of Wight or even Scotland. I never dreamed that I’d be spending the first month of married life in Egypt.”
    He kissed her on the lips. “The honeymoon begins here. On the
Marmora
.”
    “Do you think people will notice?”
    “Why? Would it trouble you if they did?”
    “A little. I don’t want everyone to stare at us.”
    “They’ll be too busy goggling at the royal party. Talking of which,” he went on, “I meant what I said about arranging to dine with them at some stage.”
    “Oh, Nigel!” she cried with excitement. “Do you think that you could?”
    “It’s one of the many occasions when Father’s name comes in useful. The Duke is bound to remember Lord Wilmshurst. They’ve been on many shooting parties together.”
    “What did they shoot?”
    “Confounded socialists, for the most part.”
    Araminta Wilmshurst went off into a fit of giggles. She was a short, shapely young woman with an almost doll-like prettiness. Her auburn hair was parted in the middle, puffed out at the sides, and collected into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her two-piece suit of blue satin was tailored to perfection. She still had the bloom on her that she had possessed when she walked down the aisle with her husband. Nigel Wilmshurst ran a finger softly down her cheek and admired her afresh.
    “Who is the most gorgeous woman aboard this ship?” he asked.
    “The Princess Royal.”
    He laughed with scorn. “The Princess Royal?”
    “I think she’s beautiful.”
    “Her mother is, I grant you,” he said. “Queen Alexandra is still a very handsome woman. But her three daughters are as plain as pikestaffs.”
    “Nigel! That’s a dreadful thing to say.”
    “Well, I’m not the only one who says it. The rumor is that the three sisters used to be known as ‘the Hags.’ And some people had even worse names for them. I respect the Princess Royal as much as the next man but I’d be lying if I called her beautiful.”
    “She has such dignity,” argued his wife.
    “It doesn’t make her face any more appealing to look at.”
    “Don’t be so ungentlemanly!”
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be boorish. Nobody could mistake her for anything but a member of the royal family. However, in my humble opinion, she does not even begin to compare with a certain Mrs. Nigel Wilmshurst.”
    “Do you mean that?”
    “Why else do you think I was waiting at the altar for you?”
    She went into his arms. “You can be so sweet to me sometimes.”
    “I intend to make a habit of it.”
    “Make sure that you’re sweet to the Princess Royal as well.”
    “I’ll be exquisitely charming toward her and the rest of the family.”
    “Is it true that she’s taken up salmon fishing?”
    “What else is there to do in the Scottish Highlands?” he asked mischievously. “She can’t toss the caber or go out and shoot game so she’s settled for catching a salmon or two. Good for her, I say. It shows a sense of enterprise.”
    Araminta shook her head. “Fishing seems so, well…unladylike.”
    “You were ladylike enough when you went fishing for me.”
    “Stop teasing,” she said, playfully pushing him away.
    “Do you deny that you set your cap at me?”
    “I won’t have it compared with salmon fishing.”
    “But I still have the hook in my mouth,” Nigel said, embracing her again. “And I’m so glad I took the bait. I just wish that I’d done so much sooner.”
    “We only met six months ago.”
    “That’s what I mean. All those empty, pointless, wasted years!”
    “They couldn’t have been all that empty,” she noted. “Your sister told me you’d been engaged once before. Is that right?”
    “Yes and no.”
    “It’s either right or it isn’t, Nigel.”
    “Maybe, but it’s not the kind of thing I want to discuss at this moment.”
    “Does that mean you’re ashamed of it?”
    “No,” he said, holding her by the shoulders. “It means that what happened in the past was