Lord Rakehell

by Virginia Henley

  “Queen Victoria insists on a small wedding because she’s still in mourning. There are going to be a lot of disappointed people when they learn they haven’t been invited.”

  “How long will the queen be in mourning?” Frances asked her mother.

  Lady Lu rolled her eyes. “For the rest of her life would be my guess. The woman is obsessed. It’s unnatural and unhealthy—she absolutely wallows in it!”

  “My sister Jane tells us that the queen insists that the servants take hot water into Albert’s dressing room every morning, and lay out fresh clothes for him, just as if he were still alive. Doesn’t your sister Emily find Victoria’s behavior obsessive?”

  “I doubt that Emily would ever criticize the queen,” Anne confided. “Her husband was an equerry to Prince Albert, and when the consort died, Victoria appointed him her groom-in-waiting as a special accommodation to my sister.”

  “Jane told me that Princess Alexandra’s wedding gown is being designed by Charles Frederick Worth, and fashioned after Queen Victoria’s,” Lady Lu confided.

  “Good heavens, won’t the princess have any say in the matter?” Anne asked in disbelief. “What if she doesn’t like the gown when she sees it?”

  “Since it’s to be fashioned after Victoria’s wedding gown, how could she like it?” Lady Lu asked wryly. “I thank my lucky stars every day that I turned down the position of Victoria’s Mistress of the Robes.”

  “You say the most deliciously outrageous things, Your Grace. I have taken you as my role model.”

  Lady Lu winked at Anne. “You could do worse.”

  • • •

  “Here it is on the front page.” James had an armful of newspapers, all announcing the Prince of Wales’s engagement, but the Illustrated London News had produced the best photographs.

  “Newspaper pictures are anything but flattering.” Prince Teddy frowned.

  “Don’t worry. Everyone knows what you look like. All eyes will be on the princess.”

  “I think I like this one best, James, where Alexandra is sitting.”

  “Yes, the princess is smiling in that one.”

  “March seems so far away. I detest Buckingham Palace. I can’t wait to move out.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. Now that your official engagement has been announced, I see no reason why you shouldn’t move into Marlborough House. Since we’ve hired a full staff of servants, it will give them a chance to get to know you and vice versa.”

  “But, James, my money doesn’t come through until I’m a married man.”

  “That shouldn’t prove a problem. We’ll just forward the bills for all the expenses to Sir William Knollys at the Treasury Department. He’s been named your comptroller, and I doubt he will question your expenditures.”

  Teddy’s face lit up. “By God, James, do you think we could go today?”

  “I don’t see why not. Let’s have the servants in to begin your packing.”

  “I can’t wait to start entertaining in my own establishment.”

  “And why should you wait? Why don’t we start working on a list of gentlemen you can invite to your bachelor’s party?”

  “But my mother . . .”

  James held up his hand. “Your mother will object to everything you do. The queen seems determined to be sad, sour, and solitary. My advice is to start out as you mean to carry on. From now on you are your own man—a man who makes his own decisions, and let the devil take the hindmost!”

  “You are a marvel, James. What on earth would I do without you? Henry Chaplin, a friend of mine from Oxford, just got engaged. I’ll drop him a note of congratulations and invite him to the celebration. Chaplin owns racehorses, so that’s another thing we have in common.”

  “I predict there will be a multitude of weddings this year. You will set the fashion.”

  “What about you, James? Are you ever tempted to take on a wife?”

  “London’s loveliest ladies will soon be flocking to Marlborough House. I’ll be able to take my pick.” He thought wistfully of Lady Anne Howe, but he knew that if he dwelled on her too much, she evoked a feeling of longing that was difficult to dispel. Stop deluding yourself. You only want her because you can’t have her.

  • • •

  The minute that the prince moved into Marlborough House, and was away from the scrutiny of the queen and her loyal Buckingham Palace servants, Teddy was ready to kick over the traces. During January and February the Prince of Wales began to indulge in scandalous behavior. Accompanied by his close friends James Hamilton and Charles Carrington, he frequented Evan’s Music Hall in Covent Garden, and began to attend Cremorne Gardens at Vauxhall for assignations in their notorious private supper rooms.

  The orgies and celebrations, replete with nymphs of the pavement and courtesans, lasted into the small hours. The ale and whiskey flowed freely, and the prince’s amorous escapades erupted each night along with the firework displays.

  Gossip about the Prince of Wales and his gentlemen attendants spread like wildfire, and their reputations as rakes and libertines grew apace. James attended to keep an eye on Teddy and to make sure he was not exposed to any real danger. He gave little thought to his own reputation, and was perversely amused that his good qualities were obscured by a facade of ill repute.

  James indulged Teddy, believing that the repressed prince should get it all out of his system before his royal marriage to Princess Alexandra.

  • • •

  On February 14, Lady Anne received three valentines in the morning post. John Claud’s card was a huge red heart decorated with real lace, and a romantic verse asking if she would be his valentine. A second card from Fitz Kerry showed a bouquet of red roses, tied with real satin ribbon. The verse told her that she had stolen his heart.

  Anne held her breath as she opened the third envelope. Her hopes were dashed when she saw that it was from Edward Turnour, Earl of Winterton. Perhaps I’ll get one in the afternoon post. But perhaps not. I’ll be the last person James will be thinking about today. Montagu had told her that the Prince of Wales and James Hamilton were hosting a bachelor’s party at Marlborough House tonight and that he and John Claud were going.

  “Oh, how lovely!” Anne’s mother was holding a large bouquet of red roses. “These must be for you, darling. Open the card quickly, I can’t wait to see who sent them.”

  Anne’s heartbeat quickened as she took the bouquet from her mother and breathed in the heady rose fragrance with appreciation. She opened the tiny card with trembling fingers. “Ah, John Claud.” She immediately covered her disappointment.

  “He’s a lovely young man. You are lucky to have such a devoted suitor.”

  “I’m going to visit Frances this afternoon, so I’ll be able to thank him for the flowers. Our friend Florence is coming to discuss last-minute arrangements for her wedding next Saturday.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t ask you to be a bridesmaid, darling.”

  “Well, I know she would have liked both Frances Hamilton and me to be bridesmaids, but she has half sisters to consider. Her father has been married three times and had large families with his first two wives.”

  “Like father, like son! The Earl of Uxbridge divorced his first wife. Poor lady was never accepted at Victoria’s court after that. The queen always had one set of rules for gentlemen and another for ladies. She wouldn’t dream of banning Uxbridge because he was divorced, but his poor wife was persona non grata.”

  “The Duchess of Abercorn believes the court of Buckingham Palace has fallen out of fashion. From now on Marlborough House will be where Society gathers.”

  “Montagu is attending a bachelor party there tonight. But of course, ladies won’t be invited until Alexandra takes up residence as the Princess of Wales.”

  “I’ll put my lovely roses in water. This afternoon I’ll take my valentine ca
rds to show Frances. I hope she got some.”

  “I would imagine every fortune hunter in London will have sent a valentine to Abercorn’s daughter.”

  Mother seems envious of the Hamiltons, but if I’m being truthful, I too am envious. They are such a perfect family.

  • • •

  “I’ve brought my valentines to show you.” Anne took the three cards from their envelopes, and spread them out on the tea table in the Hampden House drawing room.

  “May I see them?” Frances’s sister Maud asked.

  “Of course. This one with the lovely red heart is from John Claud, and this one with the ribbons is from Fitz Kerry.”

  Maud gasped. “The Earl of Kerry? Oh, I think he is divine!” She sighed. “I would be over the moon if he sent me a valentine, or even looked at me. But he doesn’t know I exist.”

  “You’re only twelve,” Frances pointed out. “It would be scandalous if you received valentines.”

  Maud put her hands on her hips. “I shall be thirteen this year, and if Anne can add a year to her age, so can I. That makes me fourteen!” She picked up the valentine from Fitz Kerry and pressed it to her heart.

  “You may have it if you like, Maud,” Anne offered.

  “Truly? You’re not in love with him?”

  Anne smiled wistfully. “No, I’m not in love with him.”

  “Thank you. I shall take it up to my room and put it on my pillow.”

  When she left, Frances looked at Anne’s third valentine and began to laugh. “Such an amazing coincidence. I too got one from Winterton!” She produced the card.

  Anne joined in her friend’s laughter. “I didn’t know he was interested in women. I thought his only love was cricket. This makes for a sticky wicket.”

  “The post brought me something far more exciting than valentine cards. The queen has asked me to be one of Princess Alexandra’s bridesmaids. I accepted immediately.”

  “Oh, you lucky monkey, Frances! I thought we were fortunate to be invited to the wedding, but to be a bridesmaid is such a special privilege.”

  “I’m not deluding myself. Victoria only asked me because of Father’s close association with Prince Albert.”

  Just then Florence Paget arrived. They took one look at her and saw that she was fairly bursting to tell them something.

  “Catch your breath and tell us,” Anne urged.

  “First, you have to promise on your lives to keep this secret!”

  “Of course we promise,” Frances vowed. “We never divulge your secrets.”

  “Wild horses couldn’t drag it out of us,” Anne declared.

  “I’m going to be married!” Florence ran to the drawing room door and closed it.

  “Yes, we know . . . next Saturday . . . a week from today,”

  “No, Anne. I’m going to be married on Wednesday at St. George’s Chapel, Hanover Square. We’re going to elope. Henry has arranged a special license.”

  “Are you talking about Henry Rawdon?” Anne asked with disbelief.

  “Yes! Isn’t it exciting? You must both help me concoct a plan for Wednesday.”

  “What sort of a plan?” Frances asked, wide-eyed.

  “I need an excuse to get away from home on Wednesday morning, and I need a place to meet Henry.”

  “You’ve left it rather late. Wednesday is only four days before you’re supposed to marry Henry Chaplin,” Anne pointed out. “Your wedding gown has been fitted, and all the guests invited. This will cause a terrible scandal, Florence. Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely sure. We are madly in love. On Wednesday, Henry will make me the Marchioness of Hastings.”

  “Rawdon lives in St. James’s Place. Can’t you meet him at his house?” Frances asked.

  “Henry Chaplin insists on taking me in his carriage wherever I need to go. I can hardly ask him to take me to St. James’s Place.”

  “Well, you could ask him to take you to Oxford Street, on the pretense that you need last-minute shopping for the wedding,” Frances suggested.

  “That’s a splendid idea. Marshall and Snelgrove made my traveling outfit. If you two would wait for me at the front door of the store, I’ll meet you there. Then I can slip out the back door into the marquis’s carriage.”

  Anne was aghast at her friend’s plans. “Henry Chaplin and your family will be devastated, Florence. Have you thought this through?”

  “I’ve decided that it’s better to jilt Chaplin than marry him without love. As for my family, I don’t give a fig about my meddling stepmother who talked my father into arranging my marriage.”

  “Anne Howe, you are the one who declared we must form an alliance to choose our own husbands, and do everything in our power to make our choice reality,” Frances pointed out. “You are the one who urged us to be Brass Monkeys.”

  “I just want Florence to be sure. What time do you want us to meet you at Marshall and Snelgrove?” Anne asked faintly.

  The ladies fell silent as John Claud opened the door and entered. He was dressed in evening clothes in anticipation of the Prince of Wales’s celebration.

  Anne gifted him with a smile. “You look very smart, John Claud.”

  He performed an exaggerated bow. “Why, thank you.”

  “No, it is I who must thank you. The red roses you sent me are beautiful and much appreciated.”

  “It was my pleasure, Anne. Did you receive any other flowers?”

  His question sounded casual, but Anne knew it was anything but. He simply could not prevent himself from being possessive.

  “Yours were the only ones,” she assured him. Though I wish it were otherwise.

  “Your brother and I are going to Marlborough House tonight. I’d invite you to go with us, but it’s gentlemen only.”

  A mischievous light came into her eyes. “Yes, I was just suggesting to your sister that we should dress up as males and crash the party.”

  His face showed alarm. “You mustn’t do that. You would be mistaken for . . . for . . . ladies of the night,” he finished lamely.

  “Ha, is that what goes on at these affairs?” Anne teased.

  “Since my brother James made all the arrangements, it wouldn’t surprise me.”

  Anne kept the smile on her face and said lightly, “You needn’t blacken Lord Rakehell’s reputation. He can manage without your help.”

  • • •

  Marlborough House

  February 14, 1863

  “I can’t believe how many accepted my invitation!” The Prince of Wales lifted another glass of champagne from the silver tray of one of his very own liveried footmen.

  “There are far more here than invited guests. Every man we invited brought at least two friends with him,” James pointed out.

  “The more the merrier! I’m on my way to the cardroom. Do you know if those cigars arrived?”

  “They did indeed. Would you like a footman to hand them out?”

  “Good idea. Smoking, drinking, and gambling, an irresistible combination that just may lure them back to Marlborough House.”

  “Lure them back?” James laughed. “You’ll have a hard time getting shut of them.”

  Most of the young nobles present knew one another, and since it was males only, they didn’t need to watch their language, or limit the number of drinks they consumed. Viscount Henry Chaplin rubbed elbows with Henry Rawdon, Marquis of Hastings, never dreaming that Rawdon was planning to snatch the viscount’s bride from under his nose and elope with her in four days’ time.

  George Churchill, Marquis of Blandford, who had attended Oxford with the Prince of Wales, brought his young brother, Lord Randolph, who was only fifteen. The young noble was already addicted to alcohol and often rolled home at breakfast time, drunk as a lord. Randolph was thick as thieves with Lord John Redesdale, a notorious womanizer, addicted t
o nymphs of the pavement.

  James wasn’t surprised to see his three noble brothers-in-law, Thomas Anson, Earl of Lichfield, D’Arcy Lambton, Earl of Durham, and William Montagu, Earl of Dalkeith, arrive together. Anson, who was an art expert, was amazed at the magnificent paintings on the walls. He shunned the cardroom, and instead asked James to give him a tour of all the splendorous chambers of Marlborough House. “James, you are a lucky devil to be one of the prince’s gentlemen and treat this place as your second home.”

  James grinned at Thomas. “Luck had nothing to do with it. I began currying favor with Teddy when we were both in knee britches. When he is the King of England, I shall be one of the powers behind the throne.”

  “You are very loyal to him—it can’t be an easy task.”

  James winked. “It has its privileges.” He greeted his brother John Claud, who had arrived with Montagu Howe. When he saw Anne’s brother, a full-blown picture of his heart’s desire filled his thoughts. Montagu’s dark coloring is so different from Anne’s. Whenever he imagined her, a need rose up in him to thread his fingers through her red-gold tresses. He banished the thought quickly.

  “Thomas, keep an eye on these two young devils while I check to see that all is well in the cardroom.”

  “You didn’t invite Father, did you?” John Claud asked James.

  “Actually, I did, but he graciously declined. By the way, Fitz Kerry is here tonight. I hope I can count on you not to issue any further challenges?”

  James headed to the cardroom and saw Charles Carrington accompanying Christopher Sykes. Prince Teddy recognized Christopher immediately. “Sykes, as I live and breathe. I haven’t seen you since Cambridge. How are you faring these days?”

  “Very well, Your Highness. Perhaps you heard that my father passed away recently?”

  Tatton Sykes bred blooded horses, but he was an authoritarian who bullied his sons. Since misery loved company, Christopher and the Prince of Wales had much in common. “When the Doncaster races start, you must allow me to entertain you at Brantingham Thorpe.”

  “I accept your hospitality, Sykes. I’m thoroughly looking forward to Doncaster. Have a seat and we’ll play baccarat.”