A seeming lifetime ago Meghan was braving the miserable English weather, doing her bit on a rigid roster of royal duties.
She smiled and waved when she needed to, she went on official visits. She pulled on her big-girl stockings, dropped her hemlines and pinned tiny hats to her glossy head. She navigated her way around a maze of palaces and castles while kings and queens of centuries past glowered from towering portraits in hallowed halls.
Teatime was cucumber sandwiches and cream scones, Sunday lunch was roast meat with three veg and home was a renovated “cottage” in the grounds of Windsor Castle – a house she and her husband were pilloried for after spending millions renovating it to their taste.