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looked pleased when I went to see if she was ready for dinner. “You look quite presentable for once, darling. You’ll never be a great beauty like me, but you could turn some heads if you learned to make the most of yourself. This fresh-scrubbed look was fine before you came out, but you really should learn some makeup tricks. I’ll have to teach you. Come over here and let me put on some rouge and lipstick.”
    “No, really I’m all right,” I said, but Mummy was already brandishing a lipstick. So I was feeling rather self-conscious as we walked down the staircase to the first class dining room. It was now full of people and the murmur of voices echoed from the high stained glass ceiling and the gallery above. Lights twinkled from polished silver and glassware on the white-clothed tables. The maître d’ bowed when he spotted Mummy. “Miss Daniel, Lady Georgiana. The captain has requested that you do him the honor of dining at his table. This way, please.”
    Mummy paused and posed prettily, to make sure the whole dining room was aware of her, and gave me a pleased little smirk as the maître d’ led us down the full length of the dining salon. I glanced around, just in case Darcy was at one of those tables, but I saw no sign of him as I started after my mother. Unfortunately the fashionable and low-backed dress also had a very tight skirt. I had to take lots of little tiny steps in my unaccustomed high-heeled shoes to try and keep up with Mummy. It was unfortunate that I was halfway down the dining room when the ship gave an impressive roll. Suddenly I was tottering forward, going faster and faster and the only way of stopping myself was to grab on to the back of an approaching chair. Unfortunately also, the chair was occupied by a large bare back into which I careened with a thump. The poor woman had been about to take a sip of a cocktail and I had managed to thrust her face right into the glass. I suspect the cherry had gone up her nose as she gave a rather peculiar strangled sort of snort before she let out a gasp of indignation.
    “I’m so sorry,” I gasped. “I didn’t mean . . .”
    She spun on me, her face spattered with amber liquid. “You clumsy, stupid girl,” she said in a clipped American accent. “What sort of game do you think . . .”
    Suddenly the maître d’ was at my side. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I should have escorted you personally, since we’re going through a rough patch of water.”
    For once I was not about to deny being a highness rather than a lady. The woman’s face was now a picture of embarrassment. “Oh, Your Highness. I had no idea,” she stammered. “Of course I should have realized that the ship was rolling.”
    “I really am terribly sorry,” I said. “Is there anything I can do?”
    “I’m sure I’ll be fine as soon as I’ve wiped this off my face.”
    “And I’ll be happy to send you another cocktail to take the place of the spilled one,” said the maître d’. “The captain is waiting to meet you, Your Highness.”
    And I was whisked away, this time clutching his arm. We came to a central table for eight. Four people were already seated at it—the captain, looking resplendent in a uniform decorated with much gold braid, a striking Indian woman dripping with jewels, and a stout middle-aged couple—the wife wearing a rather frumpy brown lace dress. The men rose to their feet.
    “Miss Daniels, Lady Georgiana. Welcome. I’m Captain Harrison. Do take a seat.” The captain motioned for Mummy to sit next to him and a chair was pulled out for me beside the Indian lady. “May I introduce our table companions: Princess Promila, daughter of the late maharaja of Kashmir, and Sir Digby and Lady Porter. Sir Digby is the head of the British Industries Development Board.” He gestured toward my mother and me. “I’m sure you’re familiar with Claire Daniels, former duchess of Rannoch, and her daughter, Lady Georgiana.”
    “Claire Daniels. Of