Millie met Alice-Miranda outside her bedroom.

‘Chessie fell asleep almost straight away,’ Millie said quietly, as they headed downstairs, ‘so I tucked her under the duvet and made it look as if it was you – at least you have the same colour hair.’

Cecelia Highton-Smith appeared at the end of the hallway carrying a towering stack of newspapers. The top section began to totter and sway before the entire thing came crashing down.

Alice-Miranda and Millie raced over to help her.

‘Oh, silly me,’ Cecelia sighed. ‘I thought I’d fetch some old newspapers from the cellar to clean the windows, but it seems I’ve just created more mess.’

‘It’s all right, Mummy, we’ll give you a hand,’ Alice-Miranda said as she and Millie set about picking up the pages.

Cecelia and Millie each carried a smaller pile into the dining room. While Alice-Miranda gathered the last of the pages from the floor, a photograph caught her eye. It was of her grandmother at a charity ball. She was standing next to a very handsome man, whom the caption revealed to be Desmond Berwick, CEO of the Paper Moon Foundation. But even more troubling was the other woman by his side. Her name was Jemima Berwick and, if Alice-Miranda wasn’t mistaken, she looked strikingly similar to Jemima Tavistock albeit with a slightly different nose. A thousand questions were running through Alice-Miranda’s mind but there was no time to raise them right now. She tore out the page and tucked it into her pocket.

Cecelia reappeared with Millie, and Alice-Miranda passed her mother the last little stack of papers just as the front doorbells chimed.

‘We’ll get it,’ Millie volunteered.

The two girls, wearing only their socks, skidded on the polished floor across the entrance hall. Alice-Miranda fished around in the antique bureau and pulled out an oversized iron key on a long red tassel. She turned the lock and opened the front door.

Standing on the veranda were the Treloars. The smallest girl was perched on her father’s hip while the other two, a boy and girl, were holding hands.

The little boy’s jaw dropped open. ‘Are you a princess?’ he asked.

Alice-Miranda laughed. ‘Not at all.’

‘But this is a palace,’ the boy said, craning his neck to see inside.

‘Welcome to Highton Hall,’ Alice-Miranda said warmly. She extended her hand to Bentley, who gave it an awkward shake. ‘You must be Mr Treloar. I’m Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and this is my friend, Millie. We’ve been looking forward to your visit all day.’

The man’s face quickly turned the colour of his hair. ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure where we should go.’

‘We tend to use the side entrance by the kitchen,’ Alice-Miranda told him, ‘but of course you weren’t to know. Mummy should really put up a sign, especially because the bells on this door can be a bit hit and miss at times. You could have wound up standing out here for ages if they were having an off day!’

The ginger-haired family blinked in response, quite taken aback by the charming child.

‘You must be Dottie,’ Alice-Miranda said. She offered her hand to the older girl, who reminded her of Millie but with strawberry-blonde curls and fewer freckles. Dottie grinned shyly and shook her hand. Alice-Miranda turned to the boy. ‘And you’re Leo?’

‘Like a lion,’ he growled, and Millie recoiled in mock horror.

‘Leo, stop that,’ his father chided. But the boy continued to bare his teeth.

‘And this must be Martha.’ Alice-Miranda tickled the little girl’s chubby bare leg. The toddler giggled.

Daisy scampered down the hall and out onto the veranda, tucking her dusting cloth into the back pocket of her jeans and wiping her brow. Martha’s eyes lit up as soon as she spotted her. She released the grip on her father’s neck and leaned out, eager to be in the young woman’s arms.

‘Thank you so much for bringing the children over, Mr Treloar,’ Daisy said. ‘I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.’

‘Not at all,’ the man replied, his eyes sweeping the entrance foyer. ‘I’m just thankful you can look after them. I hope you won’t be too tired. It’s a lot to manage.’

‘I’m fine. It’s a busy time, that’s all,’ Daisy said. ‘And Alice-Miranda and Millie have everything worked out. They’ve got games for the children to play in the side sitting room and plenty of toys.’

Martha clapped her hands at the mention of toys.

‘Can we go exploring?’ Leo asked.

‘Yes, of course,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘There are lots of secret places and maybe we can go to the treehouse too. It’s not dangerous, I promise.’

The little boy’s smile couldn’t have been any wider.

A clock struck somewhere inside the house, reminding Bentley to get a move on. He leaned down to give Leo and Dottie hugs and kisses then Martha too. ‘I’ll see you at home in the morning,’ he said and gave a wave as he walked back to the car.

‘Okay, you lot, Alice-Miranda and Millie are in charge. I want you to be on your best behaviour and do as they say,’ Daisy instructed, leading the troupe into the entrance hall.

Leo smiled and pointed at Alice-Miranda. ‘She’s pretty,’ he said.

‘Thank you, Leo,’ Alice-Miranda said with a grin. ‘And I think you make a very handsome young lion.’

The little boy beamed and raced to grab her hand.

‘The house is beautiful,’ Dottie breathed.

‘I think so too,’ Millie agreed.

‘We’re very lucky to live here,’ Alice-Miranda said.

‘You are a princess,’ Leo gasped, and pointed at a shiny coat of armour that stood guard in an alcove under the staircase.

Alice-Miranda laughed. ‘I do know some princesses but I am definitely not one of them. Is anyone hungry?’

The three children nodded.

‘Perfect,’ she said. ‘Mrs Greening made a heaven cake. I can’t wait for you to try it. It tastes like clouds and has cream frosting that tingles on your tongue. It’s my favourite – along with devil’s food cake, which is the best chocolate cake in the whole wide world.’

‘She’s right,’ Millie jumped in. ‘It’s not like anything you’ve ever tasted.’

The group made their way to the kitchen, where Millie poured milk for the children and helped Alice-Miranda to cut some slices of heaven cake.

‘It’s not usually so busy,’ Alice-Miranda explained as they sat around the kitchen table. ‘It’s just that we have a big garden party and open house event next weekend and Mrs Shillingsworth likes everything to be spick and span from top to bottom.’

The children relished their first afternoon tea at the Hall. Martha stuffed her chubby fingers into her mouth, licking every last morsel, although her tongue wasn’t quite long enough to reach all of the places on her face where she’d left crumbs.

Alice-Miranda cleared the plates and glasses, stacking everything neatly into one of two dishwashers while Millie grabbed a packet of wet wipes and she and Dottie washed the children’s hands and faces before they headed into the side sitting room. Alice-Miranda was about to join them when she spotted something poking out from behind the biscuit jar on the bench. She smiled and picked up the furry creature. ‘I don’t know where you’ve been hiding but I know someone who will be very glad to see you when she wakes up.’

Alice-Miranda hadn’t noticed that Aunt Charlotte had arrived in the kitchen with Imogen in her arms. Imogen reached out and grabbed the dog from her cousin’s hand.

‘Mine,’ she declared.

Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘I’m afraid this little dog belongs to someone else,’ she said, trying to prise the soft toy from the toddler’s grasp.

Imogen’s lip began to wobble and her face scrunched up.

‘Please don’t cry, darling,’ Charlotte cooed. She turned to Alice-Miranda with a desperate look in her eyes. ‘Can Imogen keep him for now? I’ll get it back to you as soon as she forgets.’

Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘Would you mind watching her for a few minutes while I go and get Marcus?’ Charlotte asked. ‘That boy is so patient. He never complains when I take bossy boots here first.’

Alice-Miranda cuddled her cousin and took her through to the sitting room. Millie had the children involved in a great game of cubby building with sheets and pillows everywhere.

‘This is Imogen,’ Alice-Miranda said, introducing the toddler.

Martha eyed her warily for a few seconds before thumping over and grabbing her hand.

‘Would you like me to take your dog for you?’ Alice-Miranda asked Imogen, eager to separate the two as quickly as possible.

‘No!’ Imogen clutched the creature ever more tightly. ‘Mine.’

Alice-Miranda looked at Millie, then at the dog. Millie’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ when she realised what her friend was getting at.

‘Don’t worry,’ Millie said with a grin. ‘As soon as she puts him down, I’m on it.’

Trouble was, Imogen had no intention of being parted from her new friend – no matter what.