Lord Rakehell

by Virginia Henley

  “Typhoid fever complicated by pneumonia.”

  “Good God, then he really is in danger of dying.”

  “I’m afraid so, Teddy. Carrington is packing your bags. Drink some coffee. I’ll get your overcoat.” James moved to the wardrobe. “I think I’ll take some of these blankets. It’s damned cold out there and we could be in the carriage for six or seven hours.”

  • • •

  Because of the snow-clogged roads, the carriage didn’t arrive at Windsor Castle until two o’clock in the afternoon. James turned it over to Carrington and went with the Prince of Wales to his apartment. The corridors were inhabited by grim-faced servants, various members of Her Majesty’s government, royal relatives, and medical attendants.

  James helped the prince remove his overcoat and tweed jacket, and replaced them with a black morning coat. He poured him a small measure of brandy. “Drink this.” Then they walked a direct path to the prince consort’s bedchamber known as the Blue Room.

  “Stay beside me, James,” Teddy pleaded.

  “I won’t be allowed inside, Your Highness. . . . Family only.” James placed a hand on his shoulder, turned the knob, and, when the door swung open, propelled the prince inside.

  A strong smell of camphor, eucalyptus, and something Teddy couldn’t identify pervaded the chamber. Four doctors conversing in whispers stood around a table that held a spirit lamp, medicine, stethoscopes, and other paraphernalia. To the left, members of the clergy stood with downcast eyes, their lips moving in silent prayer.

  The prince saw the pale, frightened faces of his sisters and the eyes of his young brothers staring with apprehensive disbelief at the figure lying unmoving in the center of the high bed. Each sibling sent their oldest brother a relieved glance of appreciation that he had at last arrived, which he gratefully returned. Not by the flicker of an eyelash did his mother acknowledge his presence. The queen sat stoically beside her husband, holding his hand.

  Prince Teddy was deeply shocked at the state of his father. He had been brought from Cambridge because there was a possibility that his father might die, but one look at the still figure in the bed told him that death was a certainty. He had already sunk into unconsciousness, his breaths so shallow they were almost indiscernible.

  More than anything Teddy wanted to apologize to his father, to offer him comfort, to be a loving son to him, but it was too late. It was too late to even say good-bye.

  • • •

  At nine o’clock, after a hurried whispered consultation with his colleagues, Dr. Jenner left the Blue Room to seek out Abercorn, who was sitting vigil in Prince Albert’s office. “He’s dying fast. I’m amazed he has lasted this long. You will know who must be officially notified, Your Grace.”

  “I will send a telegram to the City of London, and I will inform the secretary of state to start preparing the official notice from Whitehall. Let me know when it happens. A bulletin must be posted at Buckingham Palace. We must assure the country that Her Majesty the Queen, though overwhelmed with grief, bears her bereavement with calmness, and is not suffering in health.”

  Royal servants gathered in the corridor outside the Blue Room as news of Prince Albert’s approaching demise spread throughout Windsor Castle. They stood their vigil in respectful silence, some in stunned disbelief, some in mournful sorrow, but all harboring fear for what this would do to Queen Victoria.

  Albert drew his last breath ten minutes before eleven o’clock. Dr. Clark felt for a pulse and, when he found none, nodded solemnly to Victoria. She sat in silence, unmoving for long, drawn-out minutes; then without taking her eyes from her husband, she said, “Leave us.”

  The clergy hesitated, then slowly walked from the room, followed by the four doctors. One by one, Albert’s sons and daughters filed past their father lying in the great bed. Teddy stood rooted to the spot where he had been waiting for almost eight hours. He did not dare approach the bed without permission from his mother. He took a deep breath as she finally raised her eyes and looked at him.

  “You killed your father. I never wish to see your face again.”

  Her words pierced his heart as painfully as if she had plunged in a dagger. Teddy bowed his head, and slowly walked from the room.

  James Hamilton was beside the Prince of Wales the moment he emerged from the Blue Room. He was prepared for Teddy’s near collapse, and gave him full support as they ascended the stairs to his apartment. The prince’s legs were shaking uncontrollably from standing so many hours. His heart was unbearably heavy from the burden of guilt, and his shoulders were stooped from his father’s and mother’s total rejection.

  James closed the door and half carried him to a cushioned chair before the fire. He poured a measure of brandy into a glass and brought it to the prince. James knew that Teddy was exhausted and on the verge of collapse. Physically, he needed sleep, but James realized that mentally and emotionally he would first have to unburden himself to someone who would not judge him. More than anything, tonight the prince needed companionship and James sat down across from him ready, willing, and able to provide it.

  They sat together quietly as the prince sipped his brandy. It was some time after the glass was empty that Teddy finally broke the silence. “It was my fault. If he hadn’t come to Cambridge when he was ill, my father would still be alive.”

  “No, it was not your fault,” James said firmly. “There was no need for him to come rushing to Cambridge. You had ended the affair and Nellie was back in Ireland. If anyone is to blame, it is Major Bruce, whose false report was filled with vindictive lies.”

  Teddy shook his head. “Mother will always blame me.”

  “She has suffered an irreparable loss. Give her time to come to terms with it.”

  Teddy shook his head sadly. “She will never forgive me.”

  • • •

  Queen Victoria refused to have a public funeral for her beloved husband. She insisted on privacy. Prince Albert’s funeral and short procession took place at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, the day following the arrival of Princess Vicky from Germany.

  James Hamilton stood beside the Prince of Wales in the chapel. Queen Victoria was attended by her ladies-in-waiting, and was surrounded by her eldest daughter and the rest of her children. Bertie was consigned to a pew behind the rest of the family, and was extremely grateful for James’s unwavering support.

  Lord Hamilton’s glance searched the chapel until he found Lady Anne Howe. She was the only one wearing pale gray. She looks beautiful and ethereal, and stands out amid this flock of black-clad crows. James noted that she was with her parents, but directly behind her, his brother John Claud seemed to be standing guard over her. James watched her avidly throughout the entire funeral service, fully aware that it would be a long time before he would be given the opportunity to see her again.

  Chapter Eight

  Buckingham Palace

  August 1, 1862

  “J ames, thank God, Parliament is recessed for the summer. On the days you sit in the House of Commons, I almost go mad. This apartment at Buckingham Palace has become my prison. Vicky is back in Germany, my other brothers and sisters are at school, and for the seven months since Father died, my mother hasn’t even acknowledged my existence.”

  “She has withdrawn from public life, not just you, Teddy, and she vows to wear nothing but black mourning for the rest of her days. Everyone in London has been affected by your father’s death. The full year’s mourning that has been declared must be strictly adhered to by all Society.”

  “She relied on him for everything. My father read every letter, every dispatch, sat in on her meetings with her ministers, and advised her about running the country. If only she’d let me help her! I’m bored out of my mind, sitting here being useless.”

  “My father approached her about letting you help with dispatches and letters. He reminded her that you would be king one
day, and it would be invaluable training for you. Though he can be most diplomatic and persuasive, Teddy, she won’t hear of it. Though Abercorn thought he would lose his post, the queen is keeping him to handle the duties he performed for Prince Albert. She has also come to rely upon Prime Minister Palmerston for advice and has shut everyone else out.”

  The prince stood and paced back and forth like a caged animal. “It shames me to tell you, but she has cut off my money. I can’t even afford to go into the country to ride or shoot. Here I am penniless. I tell you, James, I haven’t a pot to piss in!”

  “Tell you what, Teddy—it’s Friday. I eat dinner at Hampden House with my family on Friday night. You are coming with me.”

  “It’s a family affair. Abercorn won’t want me at his table.”

  “That’s what families have to do for entertainment these days. No parties, no balls. Can’t even attend the theater or go to White’s to gamble without being ostracized. The only socializing not frowned upon is families dining together. I insist that you come.”

  • • •

  “James insisted that I come, Your Grace.” A worried frown creased the Prince of Wales’s brow when he saw the startled look on Lady Lu’s face.

  James’s mother sketched a graceful curtsy. “Your Highness, this is such an unexpected honor. Welcome to our home.”

  “My dearest lady, if you would dispense with the formalities this evening, I would be forever in your debt.”

  “Consider it done.” Lady Lu gave Teddy a warm embrace. “I shall treat you like one of the family.” She contemplated telling him he wouldn’t be the only dinner guest, but decided against it in case he bolted. “Dinner will be served at eight, so until then you’ll find Abercorn in the library.” The duchess made her way to the kitchen to ask Cook to add a few things to the menu. She knew the prince had a healthy appetite, and like most males preferred plain English food over fancy foreign delicacies.

  In the library, Abercorn poured James and the prince a dram of Irish whiskey. The three men felt comfortable together and it loosened Teddy’s tongue. “Thanks for inviting me. You’ve no idea how good it feels to have someone to talk to. I’ve felt totally isolated for the past eight months. I’ve no desire to return to Cambridge; I’ve spent more than enough years studying. Mother shuns me and refuses my offer of help with her royal tasks. Buckingham Palace cages me, yet I have no funds that would allow me to go elsewhere. I would love to visit Sandringham, the country estate my father bought in Norfolk just before he died, but Mother has forbidden me.”

  “Most likely she forbids you because your father never got to stay there.”

  His shoulders drooped. “I’m in total limbo. I don’t see any way out of my prison.”

  Abercorn swirled the smoky whiskey around his glass. “There is a way, Your Highness.” He hesitated, knowing how his suggestion would be received. “Marriage.”

  The prince recoiled. “That would be exchanging one purgatory for another.”

  Abercorn gave his son a speaking look, and James jumped in immediately. “You are so used to thinking of marriage in a negative way that you fail to see all the advantages it would bring. As a married man, your status would be immediately elevated. An unwed prince is considered a boy, under the authority of his mother. A married prince would become a man in his own right, and head of his own household.”

  “Not just a household, but a royal household,” Abercorn emphasized.

  James could see that though Teddy was far from being convinced, at least he was willing to listen to what they had to say.

  “In three months, I come of age. Surely when I turn twenty-one, the queen will not be able to hold my money back. In fact, I believe my stipend from the Crown will increase.”

  “It will increase at twenty-five, not twenty-one, Your Highness,” Abercorn corrected, “unless of course you are a married man. That changes everything.”

  “Does it indeed? My education in royal affairs is sadly lacking. Tell me more.”

  “Since the fourteenth century, money for the Prince of Wales has been provided by the duchy of Cornwall and is overseen by the Treasury.”

  “Then how can the queen stop it?” Teddy demanded.

  “Her Majesty has only stopped her allowance to you. The queen cannot stop your money from Cornwall. It comes to you annually to the tune of half a million pounds per year, but it is held in trust until you turn twenty-five, or marry, whichever comes first.”

  “Good God, that puts a different light on matters. I will be a wealthy man.”

  There was a discreet tap on the library door and the three men looked up expectantly.

  The duchess opened the door and announced, “Our other guests have arrived, darling. I’m sure Earl Howe would enjoy joining you gentlemen until dinner is ready.”

  Abercorn smiled his welcome. “Do come in, Richard, you’re just the man we need here, since you are a font of information on the royal households.” He turned to the prince. “You know Earl Howe. I warrant introductions are unnecessary.”

  “Absolutely. How are you, my lord? I haven’t seen you for some time.”

  “Your Royal Highness.” The earl bowed his head formally.

  “Please, none of that, Lord Howe.” The prince shook his hand warmly.

  Abercorn poured Richard a glass of Irish whiskey, then again addressed the prince. “George III, your great-great-grandfather, transferred the ownership of most royal residences to the British government. The royal family does not own Buckingham Palace or Windsor Castle.”

  “The royal residences don’t belong to the queen?” the prince asked in disbelief.

  Richard Howe grinned. “They do not. You, sir, happen to be a rare exception since you own the deed in your name to a royal residence.”

  “I do? How can that be? Which residence?”

  Earl Howe was surprised that the young prince had been kept in ignorance. “Marlborough House,” Richard informed him with relish.

  James’s eyes widened. “Marlborough House isn’t owned by the Marlboroughs?”

  “I’m sure you all know of the infamous friendship almost two centuries ago between Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough, and Queen Anne? Sarah talked the queen into building her a great mansion next door to St. James’s Palace. It is fortuitous that Queen Anne, in spite of her infatuation with Sarah, was shrewd enough to keep ownership of the property in her name. Thus, Marlborough House has been passed down to each subsequent reigning monarch. When King William died, ownership passed to his widow, Queen Adelaide, whom I was fortunate enough to serve. When Victoria became queen, Adelaide vacated Buckingham Palace so your mother could reside there, and moved into Marlborough House. When Adelaide died, the ownership was passed to Victoria and Albert, who deeded the property to their son and heir, Edward, Prince of Wales, with a view to it becoming his residence when he came of age.”

  “I hadn’t the faintest idea. No one ever told me.” Teddy was clearly amazed.

  “You were a child of eight when Queen Adelaide died. Your royal parents obviously gave their consent that the deed be put in your name.”

  “This is splendid news. I am astounded at my good fortune.”

  “Since it’s close-by, right next door to St. James’s Palace, I think we should go and have a look at it tomorrow,” James suggested to the prince.

  “My very thought, exactly!”

  “For a few years Prince Albert allowed the Royal College of Art to lease it; then about ten years ago your father hired designer Sir James Pennethorne to substantially enlarge Marlborough House with a range of rooms on the north side, and two more stories were built onto the wings.” Abercorn added, “Your father did this so you would have your own royal residence when you married.”

  “He never told me,” the prince said wistfully.

  “Perhaps because the discussion of marriage was always rathe
r contentious between the two of you.”

  “That’s true.” Prince Teddy looked shamefaced, but at that moment Lady Lu tapped on the library door and announced, “Dinner is about to be served, gentlemen.”

  • • •

  In the dining room James was shocked to come face-to-face with Lady Anne Howe. He schooled his face to mask his surprise. It had been more than seven long months since he had seen her at Prince Albert’s funeral. Good God, I should have known that if Earl Howe was a dinner guest, his family would be here.

  James stood aside as his mother introduced Countess Howe to the Prince of Wales; then she introduced the earl’s daughter Anne, and his son Montagu.

  The prince bowed to the ladies and kissed their hands. “I’m delighted to meet your lovely family, Lord Howe. I know your daughter Emily, who serves the queen so well.”

  “And I warrant you need no introduction to my son John Claud, or my daughter Frances, whom you’ve known since they were children. This young lady is my daughter Maud, who is far too grown up to be relegated to the nursery with the rest of our brood.”

  When the duchess indicated where each guest would sit, James watched his father hold his mother’s chair, and saw Richard do the same for his wife. John Claud immediately stepped behind Anne to hold her chair. James’s fists clenched, and he quickly looked away.

  The first course served was sole poached in Chablis, and James’s thoughts drifted to the dinner at the Westminster Palace Hotel. Anne ordered Dover sole that day. He wondered if the dish reminded her of their dinner together. I loved watching her eat. His glance moved toward the object of his desire, but he caught himself before he looked at her lovely face, and kept his gaze on her hands. He relived their meeting when she had come to watch him in Parliament from the visitors’ gallery and remembered how exultant he’d felt when she agreed to join him for dinner.

  When the roast lamb was served, James thought, Lily Lamb. I was enchanted by the name, and over the moon that the beauty had finally identified herself.