Well remember the broughaha about this. H.M. and several well-meanin' chaps wanted to make a fuss about one running the show during that business with the Parody Blighter and suchlike. Were advised by minions and general flunkies that this would likely cause irritable bowel syndrome and similar in neccessary international business partners whose noses I'd been compelled to put out of joint, occasionally literally.

Upshot was, awarding honours etc. was likely to affect balance of trade, war on terror, blood pressure of news barons etc., and therefore best to give the idea a miss. Was promised a book token when budget committee finally finishes session.

Cue significant muttering from various agencies, all of whom ceased their jawing when became clear wasn't intending to go work for their murky agendas. Generally felt best if whole affair left to rot in committee until doomsday. Old pal Chief Insp. Gallowglass explained it all to me and instead bought me a double brandy, which frankly was a lot more useful.




Suspect this might be artefact of Elizabeth insisting on Salic Law in Germanic territories. All to do with Chilperic and his ilk, as I gather it. Debretts decidedly vague on honorifics when previous Baron is now undead and pottering about requiring occasional kicking by all right-thinking gentlemen. Suspect fellow they sent round to explain to Elizabeth about possible etiquette blunder may have been recycled into garden mulch.

Of course, in England Baroness generally titled Lady anyhow for most purposes (don't get me started about the '63 act. You try applying that to honours and military awards consecutively passed down through three fictional generations). Suffice to say, Beth von Zemo gets called whatever she requires and jolly old Debrett's had better hurry up and catch on, what?




Well recall the ruckus when that little fellow with the EU identification came to carp on about it. "Sorry, don't want your metric titles here," I told him. "Didn't fight the Fuzzy-Wizzies to be told by some jumped-up snail-worshipping croissant-recycler with an abacus what to call my wife, don't you know." This was pre-retcon-retcon, naturally. No idea what happened to the chap in the restored timeline.




Personal view is, when one has conquered the planet at least once it's reasonable to demand to be called whatever one likes. Shows respect.




Always allow a lady to decide, don't you know. Besides, Elizabeth's titles descend from before all that unfied Germany Bismark nonsense to the days when every bit of the Black Forest and thereabouts was a cricket-pitched sized independent kingdom raiding brockwurst from their neighbours and chasin' each other with bohemian earspoons. And good luck to 'em!"

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That doesn’t end the inquiry. During World War I, I believe either a UK statute or an Order in Council required the sanction of the Crown for the use of a non-British title in the UK. The rule is generally unenforced in social contexts, but I assume Sir Mumphrey in the retcon would have lodged the appropriate application and received permission for Elizabeth.

May still have the hide somewhere on a wall of that spotty aiporth who tried to tell me I had to sit in some waiting room filling out forms. Made it clear to the jumped-up jobsworth pencil-snatchers that they'd bally well better sort out protocols to see it done or I'd know the reason why and be back to ask it. Seemed to clear the problem.

Trust this clarifies the matter.