Lord Rakehell

by Virginia Henley

  “I thought baccarat was banned in England, Your Highness.”

  Prince Teddy laughed. “It is, but who the devil is going to challenge me in my own house? Hartington can be the dealer—his pockets are deep.”

  “Since Marlborough House is the only venue in England where I’m allowed to play baccarat, I will gladly deal and provide the first bank,” Lord Hartington agreed.

  James shook his head and reminded himself to exercise patience. More fodder for the gossip mills. Tomorrow it will be the talk of London that the Prince of Wales allows baccarat at Marlborough House. Damn good thing I drew the line at inviting a flock of delectable doves to flutter their wings. The twin vices of drinking and gambling will cause enough scandal, without adding the indulgence of whoring under his own roof.

  James recognized Charles Mordaunt, who sat in the House of Commons, but as he moved about among the guests, he realized that half of them were members of Parliament. Tonight, however, the conversations were not about politics. As usual, when England’s nobles got together the main topics were horses, races, and wagers.

  He stopped to greet Henry Fane, who remarked, “It won’t be long before the prince buys his own stable of racehorses, and applies to be a member of the Jockey Club.”

  “I have no doubt of it,” James said with a wink. “A married man needs diversions.” Once Teddy gets his money, he’ll be like a child let loose in a toffee shop.

  The new majordomo, whom James had lured away from Prime Minister Palmerston, approached. “Lord Hamilton, the chef has all the food prepared, and I would like your permission for the footmen to begin setting up the buffet in the dining room.”

  “This will certainly be a trial by fire for the new chef.”

  “From what I’ve seen in the kitchen, I believe he’ll pass with flying colors, m’lord.”

  “Excellent. You may announce supper at midnight.”

  • • •

  “James!” The Prince of Wales looked ashen as he hailed his friend, who had just returned from a vote in the House of Commons. “The comptroller from the Treasury is here asking to see me. I’m sure it doesn’t bode well and I warrant you would be far better at answering his questions than I.”

  “Your comptroller’s name is Sir William Knollys. We’ll see him together.”

  When they entered the library, James held out his hand. “Sir William, welcome to Marlborough House.”

  Knollys bowed his head. “Your Highness, Lord Hamilton.” He opened a leather case and took out a sheaf of what looked like bills. He cleared his throat. “I have invoices that I must approve, and the thing is, I must verify that the goods were actually delivered.”

  James immediately realized that the man could prove to be foe or ally, and it was up to him to smooth the way for approval of all future expenditures. He held out his hand for the sheaf of papers, and even at a glance he could see the exorbitant costs of Prince Teddy’s bachelor party. “I can confirm that these things were delivered, but my dear fellow, what an onerous position if every time His Highness puts in a request for something, you must come running to Marlborough House to verify its legitimacy.”

  “Unfortunately, that is among the tasks of a comptroller, Lord Hamilton.”

  “Sir William, since you are the comptroller of the Prince of Wales’s household, wouldn’t it make sense if you became a part of that household?” James saw his eyes dilate as the bait was dangled before him.

  “You mean that I should reside at Marlborough House?”

  “For the convenience of your office, it makes sense to me.” He turned to the prince. “Do you not agree, Your Highness?”

  “Perfect sense.” Teddy nodded.

  When Knollys hesitated, James sensed something was holding him back from jumping at the golden opportunity he had just been offered. “Is there a problem, Sir William?”

  “The opportunity to reside at Marlborough House is something I would deem a high honor, Lord Hamilton, though it would necessitate that I live apart from my wife, Elizabeth.”

  James clearly saw that the man who would control the prince’s purse strings had taken the bait, but he could still slip off the line, unless he reeled him in quickly.

  “Not at all. The future Princess of Wales will need ladies-in-waiting to attend her, as well as a social secretary to help with her engagements once she takes up residence at Marlborough House.”

  Knollys could not believe his good fortune. He stuffed the invoices back into his leather case, and bowed his head to the prince. “Your Highness, your generosity overwhelms me.”

  James said smoothly, “Generosity begets generosity, Sir William.”

  Chapter Twelve

  THE MORNING POST

  Thursday, February 19, 1863

  Asurprise marriage took place Wednesday, February 18, between Lady Florence Paget and Henry Rawdon, Marquis of Hastings, at St. George’s, Hanover Square. The marriage was hurried and unexpected, more particularly to the connections of her ladyship, none of whom were witnesses to the ceremony. The couple then proceeded to Donington Hall, Leicestershire, the ancestral home of Rawdon-Hastings.

  Lady Florence, a petite beauty known as the “Pocket Venus,” was engaged to Viscount Henry Chaplin, and the nuptials set for Saturday, February 21st. The esclandre has stunned London Society.

  • • •

  “Your friend Florence Paget has eloped!” Anne’s mother looked up from the morning newspaper with an astonished expression on her face.

  “Yes, I know.” Anne felt a rush of guilt. “If it’s in the newspaper, everyone in London will know. Florence promised to send a letter to Henry Chaplin, begging his forgiveness for jilting him.”

  Lady Howe set the newspaper on the breakfast table between them. “What a courageous thing to do, to elope with the man she loved, rather than marry the man her parents chose.”

  Anne was surprised at her mother’s reaction. I shouldn’t be surprised. Mother wishes she’d had the courage to do what Florence has done.

  “Did you help her carry out her secret plan, darling?”

  “Yes,” Anne confessed. “She told Frances and me her plans on Valentine’s Day and asked us to meet her yesterday morning at Marshall and Snelgrove’s Oxford Street entrance. She left by way of Vere Street, where Henry Rawdon was waiting with his carriage.”

  “How very clever!”

  Anne bit her lip. “Poor Henry Chaplin brought her to the shop and waited for her. I thought it an extremely shabby trick to play on him.”

  “Don’t feel guilty, darling. You helped her marry the man she loves.”

  “You think the end justifies the means, but I’m not so sure. I feel guilty because I am guilty. I just hope she made the right choice, or I shall feel even worse.”

  • • •

  “God in heaven above! Your friend Florence Paget eloped with the Marquis of Hastings yesterday!” The Duchess of Abercorn put down the morning paper and gave her daughter Frances a look of accusation. “What part did you play in this disgraceful deception?”

  “I knew nothing about it until yesterday. It was our friend Anne Howe who aided and abetted her, and has been encouraging her to choose her own husband, rather than marry Henry Chaplin, who was her parents’ choice.”

  “The scandal will be devastating for them. We and everyone else the Earl and Countess of Uxbridge invited to the wedding of their daughter on Saturday will be outraged. What a selfish, childish thing to do. Florence was only here on Saturday. Are you telling me you weren’t part of this conspiracy?”

  “She . . . she swore us to secrecy, and I gave her my word.”

  John Claud gave his sister a cold look of disapproval. “No good will come of this. Hastings is a womanizer, addicted to gambling and drink.”

  Frances tossed her head. “He’s just inherited a fortune and he’s a peer of the realm.”
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  John Claud looked disgusted. “Why don’t debutantes realize that most heirs are notorious rakehells?”

  “It will be a long time before Florence is accepted by polite society, if ever,” Lady Lu declared. “Gossip lingers and scandal clings like the smell of a cesspool.”

  “I’m afraid the standard will no longer be set by Queen Victoria, Mother,” John Claud predicted. “Unfortunately, Society will look to the Prince of Wales and Marlborough House.”

  “That doesn’t sound unfortunate to me,” Frances declared, “especially when our brother has so much influence with Prince Teddy.”

  John Claud gave her a pitying glance. “The moral standard will be lowered.”

  “Don’t be so self-righteous, John Claud,” his mother scolded. “I don’t know where you get it from; both your father and I are decidedly liberal, even a little licentious at times.”

  “Ah, so James didn’t breed out?” Frances teased.

  Lady Lu laughed. “Going back to the matter of your friend’s scandalous elopement, at least the timing is in her favor. In a fortnight when Princess Alexandra arrives in England, no one will be talking or even thinking of Florence-what’s-her-name!”

  • • •

  Grosvenor Square

  March 7, 1863

  “Oh, how young, and pale, and frightened, she looks,” Anne passed the Illustrated London News to her mother. The newspaper had ensured a reporter and photographer were waiting at Gravesend to snatch the first photograph of Princess Alexandra’s arrival, and they rushed it into print for Londoners to see the same morning.

  “I bought two papers.” Montagu handed Anne the second newspaper. “I didn’t want you to fight over it.”

  The black-and-white photograph showed a slim, pale-faced girl, nervously clinging to the rail of the Victoria and Albert royal yacht.

  Anne looked at Alexandra’s dark topcoat with its high, enclosed neckline and old-fashioned bonnet, and her heart went out to her. Montagu was escorting her and their mother to the parade route. She had a new spring hat for the occasion, with cream roses and pale violet ribbons, and as she looked into the hatbox, she felt guilty because the princess wore shabby clothes.

  “The paper shows the route of the procession. Where do you think will be the most advantageous place for us to view her?” Lady Howe traced her finger along the Strand.

  “Trafalgar Square will be packed with humanity. It will be a madhouse,” Anne declared. “I think our best plan would be to get as close as we can to Paddington Railway Station, where she will leave the carriage and take the train to Windsor Castle.”

  “Montagu, what’s the estimated time?”

  “The train is scheduled to arrive in London at two this afternoon; then the carriages will slowly make their way along the parade route. When I went out to get the papers, people were already starting to gather. It will take them hours to get through London.”

  “So, if we are in our places by four o’clock, that should be plenty of time.”

  “Good. We’ll have an early lunch and that will give us ample time to dress.”

  All three looked up as they heard feet pounding up the stairs. Emily came rushing into the morning room, breathless and disheveled.

  “I’m here on an urgent mission for Her Majesty the Queen,” Emily gasped. “She took one look at that dreadful newspaper photograph and almost suffered an apoplexy.”

  “Newspaper pictures are never flattering,” Anne explained lamely.

  “Queen Victoria thinks the princess looks hideous. She has given me the task of finding the girl a fashionable hat. Her Majesty cannot allow the bride-to-be to parade through London looking like a scullery maid!”

  “Why on earth did you come here?” the countess asked. “I would advise you to go to Redfern’s. They buy from the finest milliners in London.”

  Emily raised her chin. “I thought about Anne’s fashion sense. I was sure she would help me choose something to make Alexandra look more like a princess.”

  Emily was lying, of course. Lady Anne was Queen Victoria’s suggestion, and when her sister’s name was brought up, another of the queen’s lady-in-waiting, Jane, Countess of Dalkeith, had said: “I highly recommend Lady Anne’s fashion sense, and moreover she is the same age as Princess Alexandra, and will know exactly what will be flattering.”

  Emily’s eyes fell on the hatbox. “What’s this?”

  “It’s my new spring hat. I’m going to wear it today.” Anne lifted it from the box.

  “Put it back in the box,” Emily ordered. “I’ll take it.”

  “Take it where?” Anne demanded.

  “I have a carriage waiting. I’m to rush the hat to Southwark Rail Station where the royal party will be arriving from Gravesend. I cannot fail, I must carry out the queen’s orders to make Alexandra look less of a sow’s ear.”

  “That is a spiteful thing to say.” Anne put her new hat back in its box. “Take it. I will consider it an honor to have the princess wear a hat that I chose.”

  Emily put the lid on the hatbox. “I must rush. I have to get to Southwark Rail Station before two o’clock.”

  Montagu looked at his sister as if she were deranged. “Why the devil did you let that hateful bitch take your new hat? Emily would never do you any favors.”

  Anne smiled wistfully. “I did it for the princess, not for Emily.”

  • • •

  Earlier, on Saturday at dawn, James Hamilton accompanied the Prince of Wales to Gravesend. At first light, from their carriage, they watched the royal yacht, Victoria and Albert, dock. Within minutes a crowd began to gather on the pier, and shortly after figures appeared on deck.

  “There she is.” James pointed to a female clad in a warm topcoat with a high collar. Her face beneath the bonnet was pale, as she clung to the ship’s rail with apprehension. Four Royal Navy sailors let out the gangway and attached it safely to the stanchions on the dock.

  The mayor of Gravesend and his official greeting committee arrived and pushed their way through the throng of Sixty Fair Maids of Kent, who had been selected to scatter spring flowers before Princess Alexandra to welcome her.

  “She looks frightened,” James said. “If you run up the gangplank and give her a smile and a welcoming hug, Alexandra will be forever grateful, Teddy. Let the mayor cool his heels. Your bride needs your attention at this moment.”

  The prince abandoned protocol and royal dignity as he sprinted forward. Whether his eagerness stemmed from a desire to get it over with, or from a genuine feeling of anticipation, none would ever question his touching display of affection.

  Alexandra gave the prince a tremulous smile and clung to his hands. “I’m so glad to see you, Your Highness.”

  “You must call me Teddy.”

  She nodded. “Could you possibly call me Alix?”

  The princess’s mother, Louise, dipped her knee. “Your Royal Highness.”

  He kissed her hand. “I hope you had a smooth voyage, Your Highness.” Teddy turned to see Prince Christian of Denmark, and shook his hand. “Welcome to England, Your Highness.” Teddy greeted the siblings of his bride-to-be. “No doubt the Channel was cold and windy, but spring has arrived in England.”

  Alexandra licked her lips nervously. “So many cheering people—they love you very much, Your Highness.”

  “The cheers are for you, my dear.”

  Her pale cheeks tinted a delicate pink.

  The prince glanced about at the members of the Danish royal family. “If everyone is ready, we can disembark.” He took his future bride’s arm and led the way to the gangplank. When they reached the dock, a brass band began to play a welcoming march, and as Teddy led her along Terrace Pier, the glee girls who were ranged on each side of the pier began to toss primroses and sprigs of myrtle in her path.

  Wearing white crinoline dresses and broad
-brimmed straw hats with leafy garlands, holding their dainty baskets of wildflowers to scatter at the feet of the royal lady, they made a stark contrast to the way Princess Alexandra was dressed.

  At the end of the pier a carriage stood waiting to transport them to the railway station. The Prince of Wales handed Alexandra into the open carriage, and motioned for her family to follow. Then he stepped forward to shake hands with the mayor of Gravesend, and all listened attentively as the dignitary delivered the welcome message.

  The band struck up again and the air was rent with boisterous cheers.

  James directed the driver of the prince’s carriage to join the one holding the Danish royals and the two landaus slowly made their way through the jubilant crowds.

  The train journey from Gravesend to London took only an hour, and they arrived at Southwark Station at two o’clock as scheduled. From this point on the timetable ceased being workable.

  James Hamilton was first off the train; then he returned to the prince. “Everything is in readiness. There are six landaus drawn up and waiting. The queen has her ladies-in-waiting in the first carriage. Until Princess Alexandra is a married lady, she must ride in a carriage with ladies only. Prince Christian will ride beside you in the second carriage, and the third landau is for Alexandra’s mother and sisters. Behind them will be Alexandra’s four brothers: Frederick, Valdemar, Christian, and George.”

  “James, I don’t know how you do it. You already know everyone’s name. Will you ride with me? Otherwise I won’t know what to talk about.”

  “I’ll stay close until you actually get into the landau and we’ll direct everyone to the appointed seats in the open carriages. If you get stuck for something to say, just point out London’s landmarks—London Bridge, and the Mansion House, where the lady mayoress resides, and all. You’ll be just fine. I’ll meet with you at Paddington Rail Station, so we can take the train to Windsor.”

  James and the prince led the way off the train, where they encountered Emily, the queen’s lady-in-waiting.