From Fitzroy's Private Diary (Extract 132)

I like to make it look as if I’m a master strategist, that I am an enigmatic, highly intelligent gentleman who is always in control of everything. Sadly, there are many things out of my control.

I cannot stop my dog from chasing swans. I cannot stop the heavens from suddenly raining down on me while I’m out in my best linen suit on what had promised to be the finest of days. I could not foresee that Euphemia marrying Bertram would cause so many difficulties and force me to make more and more adjustment to a lifestyle with which I was previously more than content.

And I still cannot get Griffin to make me a decent omelette, although I now know that he’s more than capable of doing so. This very day I pretended I’d gone out and hid in my bedroom - that a grown man should be reduced to such things - and waited until Euphemia had asked for a breakfast omelette. Jack had followed me and thought this a great game. With regret, I had to sacrifice one of my third best pairs of shoes to keep him quiet. I’m tempted to take it out of Griffin’s wages.

Euphemia had told me more than once that Griffin makes her the most excellent omelettes.  Once I judged that he had had sufficient time to have made one, I erupted from my hiding place and stole a forkful of her omelette. It was lighter than a cloud and flavoured with a gorgeous cheese that I didn’t even know was in my pantry (If I had, I’d have already consumed it with some rather excellent port that I have been keeping).

I called Griffin out on his deception, and he claimed it was pure chance that this particular eggy concoction had turned out so well. I appealed to Euphemia, who smiled cheekily at us both, and said she knew better than to get between a man and his master. Besides, she said, poor Jack needed a walk. On hearing this, my dog ran to fetch his lead, a trick I had taught him to do, and he hastened out of the door with Euphemia.

Bah! Betrayed by my nearest and dearest!