Foreword for Tarquin the 3rd

by Sir Reginald Bentinck-Fitzmaurice, OBE, Royal Literary Patron and Occasional Equerry to His Majesty

It is with a mixture of profound trepidation, mild nausea, and the faint whiff of smelling salts that I, Sir Reginald Bentinck-Fitzmaurice – holder of the Order of the Bath (second class, naturally), former equerry to several corgis, and author of such esteemed volumes as The Etiquette of Tea: A Guide for Those Who Know Which Spoon Is Which – pen this foreword to the rather… extraordinary memoir you hold in your hands.

One does not lightly associate oneself with a work penned by an individual who claims to have been discarded from the royal nursery like an unwanted scone. Yet, in the spirit of modern inclusivity (a word that still gives one palpitations), His Majesty’s advisors deemed it prudent to acknowledge this… publication. After all, even the most wayward of tales can serve as a cautionary reminder of the importance of good breeding, symmetrical features, and never, ever, allowing the lower orders to discover the internet.

Mr. Wilfred (or whatever his name is – one loses track of these things) presents a narrative that is, shall we say, robust in its language and decidedly economical with the truth. His assertions regarding certain familial habits – crisp banknotes, recreational substances, and the alleged aesthetic standards of the royal household – are, of course, the fevered imaginings of a mind clearly unburdened by either education or decorum. One can only assume the author mistook a particularly vivid dream for reality, possibly after consuming an undercooked Greggs product.

Nevertheless, in these trying times when the very foundations of civility seem to wobble like an over-set jelly, there is perhaps a lesson here: even the most unfortunate of God’s creatures may find a voice, however grating. One applauds the author’s resilience, if not his prose, and trusts that readers will approach this volume with the sturdy constitution required to withstand its… earthy vigour.

Should you feel faint, do please avail yourself of a stiff brHump and a lie-down. One always does.

Yours in dutiful service,

Sir Reginald Bentinck-Fitzmaurice, OBE