“I hope I’m not calling you too early, sir. But I was afraid you might get off on your rounds before I could reach you.”

“Not at all.” Edward glanced at his wife with a look of delight, and nodded vehemently as he continued the call, and Victoria immediately understood him. “We were just having breakfast, except for Sarah, of course. She never eats, I don’t know how she does it.”

“We’ll have to see about that.” William jotted himself a note to have his secretary send her flowers that morning. “Are you free this afternoon, all of you, I mean? I thought it might be amusing for the ladies to see the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London. One of the few privileges that comes with rank is that one can have private tours of oddities like that, if one chooses. It might be fun for Sarah and Mrs. Thompson to try some of it on. You know … that sort of thing …” He sounded a little vague this morning, and very British. But Edward liked him a great deal. He was a real man, and it was obvious that he had a considerable interest in Sarah.

“I’m sure they’d love it. And it would keep them out of the stores for an hour or two. I’d be very grateful.” The two men laughed, William said he’d pick them up at two, in front of the hotel, and Edward assured him they’d be waiting. And when Sarah emerged from her room to pour herself a cup of tea, her father mentioned casually that the Duke of Whitfield had called, and was taking them to see the Crown Jewels at two o’clock in the Tower of London. “I thought you might like that.” He wasn’t sure if she was more interested in the jewels or the man, but one look at her face gave him the answer.

“William called?” She looked shocked, as though she hadn’t expected to hear from him again. In fact, she had spent most of the night awake, assuring herself that he would never call her. “Two o’clock this afternoon?” She looked as though her father were suggesting something dreadful, which surprised him.

“Do you have something else to do?” He couldn’t imagine what, except maybe a shopping trip to Harrods or Hardy Amies.

“It’s not that, it’s just …” She sat down, and completely forgot her cup of tea. “I just didn’t think he’d call me.”

“He didn’t call you,” her father teased, “he called me, and invited me out, but I’m perfectly happy to take you with me.” She gave him a withering glance, and walked across the room to the window. She wanted to tell them to go without her, but she knew how ridiculous that would seem. But what was the point of seeing him again? What could possibly ever happen between them? “What’s the matter now?” her father asked as he watched her face as she stood at the window. She really was an impossible child if she was going to balk at this extraordinary opportunity. He was a wonderful man, and a little flirtation with him wouldn’t do her any harm. Her father had absolutely no objection.

She turned slowly to face him. “I don’t see the point,” she said sadly.

“He’s a nice man. He likes you. If nothing else, you can be friends. Is that so terrible? Have you no place left in your life for friendship?” She felt foolish when he said it that way, and she nodded. He was right. She was stupid to make so much of it, but he had swept her off her feet at the castle the day before. She had to remember this time not to be so silly and so impulsive.

“You’re right. I didn’t think of it that way. I just … it’s different, because he’s a duke. Before I knew that, it was …” She didn’t know what to say to him, but he understood.

“It shouldn’t make any difference. He’s a nice man. I like him.”

“So do I,” she said quietly as her mother handed her the cup of tea and urged her to eat at least a piece of toast before they went out shopping. “I just don’t want to get into an awkward situation.”

“That’s not likely, in a few weeks over here. Don’t you think?”

“But I’m getting a divorce,” she said somberly. “That could be awkward for him.”

“Not unless you marry him, and I think you’re being a little premature, don’t you?” But he was happy she was at least thinking of him as a man. It would do her good to have a little romance. She smiled at what her father said, and shrugged, and went back to her bedroom to finish dressing. She emerged half an hour later in a beautiful red silk Chanel suit he had just bought her in Paris the week before. And as the British would have said, she looked smashing. She was wearing some of the jewelry Chanel had just designed, some of it simulating pearls, some of it ruby, and she wore two wonderful cuffs that Madame Chanel had worn herself, they were black enamel with multicolored jewels set in them. They weren’t real, of course, but they were very chic, and on Sarah they looked very striking.

She wore her dark hair pulled back in a long queue de cheval, tied with a black satin bow, and on her ears were the pearl earrings they had given her for her wedding. “You look pretty in jewels, my dear,” her father commented as they left the hotel, and she smiled at him. “You should wear them more often.” She didn’t have many things, a string of pearls from her grandmother, the pearl earrings she wore, a few small rings. She had given back her engagement ring, and Freddie’s grandmother’s diamond rivière necklace.

“Maybe I will this afternoon,” she teased back, and Victoria looked knowingly at her husband.

They had lunch at a pub at noon, stopped at Lock’s in St. James’s Street to order a hat for her father, and were back at the hotel promptly at ten minutes to two, and found William already waiting for them in the lobby. He was pacing nervously, and glanced at his watch just as they walked in, and his face lit up when he saw Sarah.

“You look absolutely extraordinary!” He beamed. “You should always wear red.” She had even agreed to wear her mother’s red lipstick, and her parents had just said that she looked beautiful as they walked into the lobby behind her. “I’m awfully sorry I got here early,” he apologized. “I always think it’s ruder being early than being late, but I didn’t want to miss you.”

Sarah smiled quietly as she looked at him. There was something about being with him that just made her feel good. “I’m happy to see you”—she paused, and her eyes twinkled with mischief—“Your Grace,” she added in an undertone, and he winced.

“I shall beat Belinda with a stick the next time I see her. If you ever say that to me again, I shall tweak your nose, is that clear, Miss Thompson, or should I call you Your Highness?”

“Actually, that has a nice ring to it. Your Highness … Your Opulence … Your Vulgarity … I really love titles!” She put on a strong American drawl and batted her eyes at him, and he pulled at the long tail of shiny dark hair that hung down her back with its black-satin ribbon.

“You are impossible … beautiful, but impossible. Do you always behave like this?” he asked blissfully, as her parents inquired for messages at the desk.

“Sometimes I’m worse,” she said proudly, but knowing full well that sometimes she was also very quiet. For almost two years, in fact. There hadn’t been much joy in her life since her marriage to Freddie. But now, suddenly, with him, she felt different. He made her want to laugh again. And she sensed that with him, she could create delightful mischief. William sensed that about her, too, and he loved it.

Her parents rejoined them then, and William escorted them outside to his Daimler. He drove them to the Tower of London himself, chatting amiably all the while, and pointing out the sights to the three of them. Her mother had insisted that Sarah sit in the front seat, and her parents sat in the backseat behind them. William cast glances at her from time to time, as though to be sure she was still there, and to admire her. And when they reached the Tower he helped her and her mother out of the car, and offered a hand to Mr. Thompson. He handed a card to one of the guards, and they were ushered inside immediately, even though it wasn’t visiting hours. And another guard appeared to take them up the small spiral staircase to see the royal treasures.

“It’s really quite remarkable, you know. All these extraordinary things just sitting here, some of them incredibly rare, and very old, with histories that are more fascinating than the jewels themselves. I’ve always loved it.” As a boy, he had been fascinated by his mother’s jewels, the way they were made, the stories that went with them, the places they had come from.

And as soon as they reached the rooms where the jewels were kept, Sarah could see why he thought they were exciting. There were crowns that had been worn by monarchs for the last six hundred years, scepters and swords, and pieces that one wouldn’t see anymore except at a coronation. The Sceptre with the Cross was particularly breathtaking, with a five-hundred-and-thirty-carat diamond set in it, the largest of the Stars of Africa, presented to Edward VII by South Africa. He insisted that she try several tiaras and at least four crowns, among them Queen Victoria’s and Queen Mary’s. Sarah was amazed at how heavy they were, and marvelled that anyone could wear them.

“King George wore this one at his coronation.” He pointed out the one, and as he did, she realized that he had been there, and just knowing that seemed remarkable, and reminded her again of who he was. But most of the time, just talking to him, it was so easy to forget it. “It was a bit of a strain, I must admit, after all of that business with David.” At first, she wondered who he meant, and then she remembered that the Duke of Windsor’s Christian name was David. “Terribly sad, all that. They say he’s blissfully happy now, and perhaps he is, but I saw him in Paris a few months ago, and I don’t think he looks it. She’s a difficult woman, with quite a history behind her.” He was referring to Wallis Simpson, of course, the Duchess of Windsor.

“It all seemed so incredibly selfish of her,” Sarah said quietly. “And so unfair to him. It’s really very sad.” She spoke with real feeling, having felt a terrible bond with her in recent years. But the stigma of divorce seemed to weigh a great deal more heavily on Sarah than it did on Wallis.

“She’s not really a bad person. But shrewd. I always thought she knew what she was doing. My cousin … the duke”-—as though he needed to explain—“gave heir over a million dollars worth of jewels before they were even married. He gave her the Mogul Emerald as an engagement ring. He had Jacques Cartier himself find it for him, and he did, in Baghdad, and they set it for him, or rather, for Wallis. It’s the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever seen, but I’ve always rather liked emeralds.” It was fascinating hearing him make comments on the jewels they’d seen, rather like a surprisingly intimate tour guide. He didn’t tell them gossipy things, but he told them about jewels made for Alexander the Great, and necklaces given to Josephine by Napoleon, and tiaras designed for Queen Victoria. There was even a remarkably pretty diamond-and-turquoise one she had worn as a young girl, which he made Sarah try on, and on her dark hair, it looked lovely. “You should have one of those,” he said softly.

“I could wear it on my farm.” She smiled up at him and he made a face.

“You’re irreverent. Here you are, wearing a tiara Queen Victoria wore as a young girl, and what do you do, you talk about a farmhouse! Dreadful girl!” But it was obvious that he didn’t think so.

They stayed with him there until late in the afternoon, and it was a rich lesson in history and the quirks and habits and foibles of the monarchs of England. It was an experience none of them could have had without him, and the elder Thompsons thanked him effusively as they returned to his Daimler.

“It is rather amusing, isn’t it? I’ve always loved going there. My father took me there for the first time. He used to love to buy interesting jewels for my mother. I’m afraid she doesn’t wear them anymore. She’s gotten a bit frail, and she seldom goes out now. She still looks marvelous in them, but she claims now that she feels foolish.”

“She can’t be very old,” Sarah’s mother said protectively. She herself was only forty-seven. She had had Jane when she was twenty-three, and she had married Edward at twenty-one, and lost her first baby the year after.

“She’s eighty-three,” William said proudly. “She’s absolutely superb, and she doesn’t really look a day over sixty. But she broke her hip, I’m afraid, last year, and it’s made her a bit skittish about going out on her own. I try to take her out myself when I can, but it isn’t always easy.”

“Are you the youngest of a large family?” Victoria was intrigued by what he’d said, but he shook his head, and said he was an only child.