Venetia Baldini wondered if she should have packed a pair of rollerskates, the way she was racing from one section of the kitchen to the next. A cumquat disaster had been averted, largely because one of Her Majesty’s chefs kindly took her to the greenhouse, where she located some additional fruit. And while cheese soufflé was admittedly a risky choice for entree, Venetia was determined to make this dinner memorable for all the right reasons. It was just after quarter past five when she glanced at the kitchen clock and realised that Caprice was late.

‘Excuse me, ma’am, but would you like me to make you a cup of tea?’ a young kitchenhand asked.

‘Oh, that would be brilliant,’ Venetia replied gratefully. The woman looked down at her splattered apron, which bore evidence of just about every dish she’d worked on that day. ‘Gosh, I must look a terrible mess.’

‘Not at all,’ the young man said. Despite having been on the go for hours, Venetia’s hair and make-up were still flawless. ‘And if you don’t mind me saying so, Ms Baldini, I think you might do well to sit down for a few minutes. I haven’t ever seen anyone work at the rate of knots you do, and you’ve still got hours before the dinner service.’

Venetia smiled at the lad. ‘That’s awfully kind of you to say …’

‘I’m Tom,’ the young man said, reading Venetia’s mind.

‘Thank you, Tom,’ Venetia replied. ‘I suppose I should check my messages, and I would like to know where that daughter of mine has got to.’

Venetia’s handbag was sitting on the desk inside the little office she’d been provided by Mr Langley. She pulled out her phone and was alarmed to find twelve missed calls from a number she didn’t recognise. There were five messages too.

She dialled the number to listen to her voicemail and, within seconds, the colour had drained from her face and she had begun to shake all over. Tom walked into the room, balancing a teacup and a plate with a large slice of chocolate cake.

‘Ms Baldini, are you all right?’ the lad asked with concern. He quickly placed the tea and cake on the table and rushed to the woman’s side.

‘My father … h-he’s had a stroke,’ Venetia stammered as tears began to flood her face. ‘My husband is away with the boys and I can’t get in touch with them and my father is in Italy.’

‘Everything’s under control for tonight,’ Tom said soothingly. ‘We can take it from here. You should go to your father.’

‘I’m so sorry. I need to find my daughter and Mr Langley,’ Venetia said.

She picked up her handbag and fled through the kitchens and upstairs to the rear hall, almost crashing into Cecelia Highton-Smith, who was on her way outside to round up the children. Aunty Gee’s games had finished an hour earlier and the children had begged to do some more exploring in the gardens. Cecelia had agreed to meet them near the back doors at half past five, allowing the children enough time to have a rest before getting ready for the ball.

‘Hello Venetia, Aunty Gee said that you were in charge of dinner tonight,’ Cecelia said warmly. ‘I must say we’re all very excited. That function you did for Highton’s was certainly the most fabulous meal I can remember. It was –’

‘Have you seen Caprice?’ Venetia blurted.

‘Yes, I saw her about –’ Cecelia stopped as she registered the woman’s tear-stained cheeks. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’

Venetia burst into tears. ‘It’s my father,’ she sobbed.

Cecelia placed her arm around the woman’s shoulders and listened to the story between hiccup-ping gulps.

‘I have to find Caprice,’ Venetia sniffed.

Cecelia hoped the girl was out playing with Alice-Miranda and the other children. Not a minute later, Alice-Miranda, Millie, Jacinta, Sloane, Sep and Lucas tumbled through the back door, dishevelled and dirty, looking as if they’d had quite the adventure.

‘Hello darling, I was just coming to find you,’ Cecelia said.

‘Sorry, Mummy, we discovered an enormous maze, then we got lost and it took us ages to find our way back,’ the child babbled. ‘Hello Ms Baldini, we’re really looking forward to dinner tonight. I’m starving! But are you all right?’ Alice-Miranda had only just noticed the woman’s red-rimmed eyes.

Millie and Jacinta looked at each other. ‘Has she been crying?’ Jacinta whispered.

‘Children, have you seen Caprice?’ Cecelia asked.

‘Only when we were playing boules,’ Alice-Miranda volunteered. ‘She left us and said that she was coming back inside to help you, Ms Baldini.’

Venetia sighed and dabbed at her eyes.

‘What’s the matter with her?’ Millie mouthed to Jacinta.

‘Ms Baldini, is something wrong?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

The woman’s eyes filled with tears again. ‘My father is seriously ill and I need to get to him right away, but I have to find Caprice,’ she replied, her voice faltering.

‘We can go and look for her,’ Sep offered, and Lucas nodded. Though, with the fading light and the size of the palace gardens, neither of the boys was confident that they’d find her very quickly.

‘She’s probably with Louis and Edgar,’ Millie said. ‘They could be anywhere.’

‘I told her to be back by five o’clock and it’s almost quarter to six,’ Venetia said. ‘I need to get to the airport now or I won’t get a flight tonight.’

Alice-Miranda had an idea. ‘Why don’t you go on ahead, and Daddy can arrange for Cyril to take Caprice to meet you when we find her?’ the girl suggested.

Venetia blinked.

‘In Birdy, our helicopter,’ Alice-Miranda explained.

Venetia hated the thought of leaving not knowing where her daughter was, but she’d never forgive herself if something happened and she didn’t get to see her father.

Cecelia nodded. ‘That’s an excellent idea, darling.’

‘Are you sure? I don’t want to be a nuisance, and you’ve got the ball tonight,’ Venetia said, trembling like one of the jellies she’d made for the trifle.

‘Are you all right to drive, Ms Baldini?’ Lucas asked the woman.

Venetia nodded and smiled at the thoughtful lad. ‘It will give me something to concentrate on other than Papa.’

‘Have you got everything?’ Cecelia asked.

‘I don’t know. I haven’t even told the chefs what’s happened.’ The woman’s forehead wrinkled at the thought of everything that had to be done downstairs.

‘Don’t worry about a thing,’ Cecelia reassured her. ‘I’ll go and let them know right away, and I’ll tell Mr Langley too.’

‘You’re all so kind.’ Venetia held onto Cecelia’s hands and squeezed. ‘Langley’s going to be furious.’

‘Just get to your father, and don’t worry about Caprice or the dinner. We’ll look after her and make sure that she’s with you as soon as possible,’ Cecelia said, embracing the woman goodbye.

‘Thank you, Cee. Thank you so much.’ Venetia gave Cecelia an extra squeeze, then raced out the back door.