Lord Rakehell

by Virginia Henley

  She sketched a curtsy to the prince, then put her hand on Hamilton’s arm. “James, Her Majesty has ordered me to get that hideous bonnet off Princess Alexandra.” She indicated the hatbox she carried. “She must change into this hat before she is paraded through London.”

  “Lady Emily.” James smiled. “Wait beside the prince and me, and when Princess Alexandra alights from the train, curtsy to her and say, ‘Her Majesty the Queen has sent you this welcoming gift and would be most honored if you would wear it today.’”

  “Thank you, James.” She gave him a coy glance. “Diplomacy is your second long suit.” She removed the lid of the hatbox in preparation.

  James pretended the double entendre had gone over his head.

  • • •

  “What a lovely hat!” Princess Alexandra lifted it from its box with reverence. She untied the ribbons on her old-fashioned bonnet and handed it to Emily. Then she smoothed her light brown wavy hair and lifted the chapeau to her head. “Does it look right?”

  “It looks perfect, Your Highness.” Emily felt weak with relief that Princess Alexandra had not taken offense, but seemed genuinely delighted with the new hat.

  When the Prince of Wales led his bride-to-be to the first landau, Lady Emily stuck like glue and followed the princess into the open carriage. The other ladies-in-waiting made room for the queen’s preferred attendant, then with friendly smiles introduced themselves to the princess.

  By this time a crowd of Londoners had gathered to get a glimpse of the young royal who would soon become their Princess of Wales. The cheering, laughing, jostling, and waving spectators made Alexandra nervous, and she sat stiffly, trying to take it all in.

  When at last the entire royal party was seated in the six landaus, they set off toward London Bridge. Each carriage was pulled by four horses in polished harness, with their heads decorated by the Prince of Wales’s feathered plumes. The bridge was ablaze with masses of flowers and garlands whose banners read THE ROSE OF THE NORTH.

  Alexandra hesitantly asked Emily, “Am I the Rose of the North?”

  “Of course—who else?” Emily replied. She stared at the erect, timid creature beside her and ordered, “Wave to the people!”

  The crowd was more like a mob as the landau slowly made its way from London Bridge to the Mansion House, where the mayoress of London waited with a bouquet. The carriage stopped; the lady mayor presented Princess Alexandra with the flowers and gave her speech of welcome. The people were gathered so close to the carriage that the driver could not proceed. Then there was a scuffle when a few overenthusiastic Londoners tried to unharness the horses, so that they could take the shafts and pull the landau themselves.

  The commotion and the shouting that ensued frightened Alexandra and she sat stiff as a ramrod, mortified that she was the cause of all this tumultuous disorder. The five landaus behind were backed up to the bridge and sat waiting to move forward.

  After sitting without moving for half an hour, James left his carriage, which was behind the last landau, and walked toward the Mansion House. He had to physically push his way through the noisy crowd that surrounded the princess’s coach. He spoke to two or three policemen who were having a difficult time controlling the jubilant Londoners, and they formed a small group. They went to the horses and slowly led them forward, the crowds parting occasionally to let them pass.

  As the landaus moved leisurely down Cheapside, the throng thinned a little and allowed the carriages to proceed at a walking pace. With James still holding the bridle of the lead horse, they moved past St. Paul’s Cathedral to Ludgate Hill, then along Fleet Street and Temple Bar to the Old City Gate.

  As Princess Alexandra rode beneath the gate, she looked up to see a beautiful statue. When Emily explained that it was a statue of Hymen, the princess blushed profusely.

  They proceeded at a snail’s pace along the Strand, and when the landau reached Trafalgar Square, the people clogged the entire roadway, and had to be cajoled, threatened, and finally ordered to allow the princess to pass.

  Flowers were tossed inside the carriage from the jubilant spectators, and the queen’s ladies-in-waiting gathered them together into bouquets. Alexandra could hardly breathe in her woolen topcoat. She undid the high neck and Lady Jane, Countess of Dalkeith, helped her to remove it. Her dress beneath the coat was extremely plain compared with the frilly gowns in vogue in London, but since she was sitting down, all that most people saw was her fashionable hat.

  It had taken two full hours to get to Trafalgar Square. When they finally were allowed to proceed down Pall Mall, James stepped back and the driver was able to pick up speed. As the second landau carrying Prince Christian and the Prince of Wales passed him, Teddy shouted, “James, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

  James could tell that Prince Teddy was bowled over by all the attention. He waved and shouted, “I’ll see you at Paddington.”

  • • •

  “Are you sure you want to wait longer?” Montagu asked his mother and sister. “We’ve been standing here at Paddington Station for an hour and a half, and still there’s no sight of them.”

  “Look on the bright side,” Anne admonished. “Half the people have left, so we are sure to get more than a glimpse.”

  “Well, darling, I’m game if you are,” Anne’s mother assured her.

  “Speak of the devil—I hear cheering.” Montagu winked. “Hang on to your hat!”

  Anne gave a shout of laughter, since by choice she was hatless. Instead, she had pinned a bunch of violets into her red-gold hair to match her pale violet dress. Excitement bubbled up as she waited breathlessly for the first landau to drive up. Her eyes were focused on the young Danish princess who was indeed wearing her hat. “Oh, she’s so sweet and pretty.”

  All at once Anne’s glance traveled to the woman sitting beside Princess Alexandra. When she saw her sister Emily, waving like royalty, she whooped with laughter. “Oh my God, I’m going to pee!”

  When the second landau rolled past, her mother said, “That’s Prince Christian, who will soon be the King of Denmark.”

  The Prince of Wales nodded to Lady Anne and she wondered if he had actually recognized her. She cast her gaze on the ladies in the third carriage. She was particularly interested in seeing what Alexandra’s sisters looked like. Anne smiled her secret smile.

  Princess Alix was without doubt the beauty of the family.

  The landaus began to slow as they reached the rail station, and much to Anne’s amazement an open carriage came to a stop directly in front of her. She recognized Lord Hamilton immediately, and moreover James recognized her. The corners of her mouth lifted in a tremulous smile as her heart began to race wildly. On impulse she unpinned the violets from her tresses and tossed them into the carriage.

  James Hamilton deftly caught the flowers, inhaled their fragrance with appreciation, and threw her a kiss. Oh Lord, he’s off to Windsor. I must wear something eye-catching when I attend the wedding in St. George’s Chapel. It’s the last time I’ll get to see him for eons.

  • • •

  When the train arrived at Windsor and once again the entire royal party had to disembark and climb into carriages to be transported to the castle, James urged the Prince of Wales to take the lead once they arrived at the ancient fortalice. “The princess has had an exhausting day and she still has the most daunting task of all ahead of her—being presented to the Queen of England for inspection.”

  “I’ll stay beside her. That way if Mother has any criticism, it will be directed at me.”

  The landaus and carriages entered through the gate to the North Terrace in the Middle Ward and stopped before the state apartments. The Prince of Wales left his landau and instructed Prince Christian, “Gather your family and follow me.”

  He helped Alexandra from the carriage and kept hold of her hand. “That was quite an ordeal. Londoners can be
extremely enthusiastic. You handled it very well.”

  Lady Emily gathered up Alexandra’s coat and bonnet, sprang from the landau, and trotted after the prince and his bride-to-be before the other ladies-in-waiting could make a move. Prince Christian gathered his wife and family and they slowly followed Emily.

  When the prince and princess entered the Audience Chamber outside the Queen’s Drawing Room, they stopped and waited for the Danish royals to catch up.

  Lady Emily walked to the adjoining door and spoke up. “I will inform Her Majesty the Queen that you have arrived.” Without hesitation she opened the door, stepped inside, and firmly closed the door.

  Emily curtsied to Victoria. “The princess and her family have arrived, Your Majesty.”

  “It is after seven o’clock,” the queen said impatiently. “What on earth kept you?”

  “The entire route from Southwark Station where I met the royal party was thronged with cheering crowds of people who slowed our progress to a crawl, Your Majesty. I have never seen anything like the welcome the Londoners gave Princess Alexandra.”

  Emily saw the queen’s mouth turn sulky and knew she had said the wrong thing.

  “What are you carrying?”

  “Princess Alexandra’s coat and bonnet, Your Majesty.”

  “The garments are hideous; burn them. What about the hat? Did your sister Lady Anne select one that’s more suitable?”

  “She chose one that is most fashionable, Your Majesty.” If Victoria didn’t like the hat, Emily wanted her sister to get the blame.

  “The Prince of Wales and Princess Alexandra are in the Audience Chamber, Your Majesty, as are the entire Danish royal family. Shall I show them in, ma’am?”

  “You may bring in Alexandra, but not my son. We have no desire to see him. The rest of the Danes can wait.”

  Lady Emily curtsied. Victoria was using the royal we and must be obeyed to the letter. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Emily emerged from the Queen’s Drawing Room, and spoke directly to the Prince of Wales. “Her Majesty wishes to welcome the princess alone, Your Highness.”

  “Alix prefers that I remain beside her, Lady Emily.” Edward set his jaw.

  Emily pressed her lips together. “If the queen’s orders are not obeyed to the letter, Bertie, you know there will be untoward consequences.”

  His mother’s hated name for him sapped his manhood and reduced him to a boy. He freed Alexandra’s hand. “She wants to see you alone, my dear. I’ll wait here for you.”

  Emily handed the coat and bonnet to Alexandra’s sister Dagmar and led the bride-to-be into the Queen’s Drawing Room.

  Princess Alexandra clasped her hands before her and approached Queen Victoria. She sank down into a stiff curtsy and lowered her eyes. The red walls, priceless portraits, gilt chairs, and rich Aubusson carpets were overwhelming enough without the presence of the squat, thick-figured commanding presence of the woman in black. “Your Gracious Majesty,” Alix murmured breathlessly.

  “Welcome to our England. We will be seated. We don’t like people to tower over us.”

  Alix took the seat the queen indicated and waited for her to speak first.

  “Your dress is unfashionably plain, but we’ll soon remedy that. Your wedding gown has been designed by Worth and fashioned after my own. Tomorrow will be soon enough for your fitting. You are extremely slim—I hope you enjoy good health.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Alix spoke softly, timidly.

  “You won’t be slim long—you’ll soon be in an unhappy condition. Still, your primary duty is to provide an heir to the throne of England. I was twenty when I wed, so I was in for it at once. It’s all fine to talk of pride of giving life, but I felt more like an animal at such moments.”

  The young bride-to-be licked bloodless lips. She could think of nothing to say.

  “Men are the cause of all our suffering, and your husband will be no different. We poor creatures are born for man’s pleasure and amusement and suffer endlessly for it. Poor woman is bodily and morally the husband’s slave. Childbirth turns merry young girls into ailing, aching wives. It is the penalty of marriage.”

  Victoria summoned Lady Emily, who had removed herself to an unobtrusive corner.

  “Who chose the hat?”

  Emily disclaimed all responsibility. “My sister Anne, Your Majesty.”

  “The mauve ribbons honored our mourning. Give our compliments to your sister.” Victoria’s stomach rolled noisily. “Let us have the rest of them in. Dinner will be served precisely at eight; we have waited long enough. Oh, and inform the Prince of Wales there will be no further contact with the princess until the wedding.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I s this your entire wardrobe, Your Highness?” Lady Emily had directed the servingwomen to unpack Princess Alexandra’s trunks.

  “Yes, my lady.” She cannot hide her disdain for my clothes. The queen’s lady-in-waiting is as unkind as her mistress.

  “You had best wear the gray dress today. The style is sadly outdated, but at least it’s an acceptable mourning color.”

  “Is the customary mourning period longer than one year here in England, my lady?”

  “Her Majesty the Queen and her court are still very much in mourning for Prince Albert, no matter the custom. The wedding invitations state plainly that the ladies attending must wear muted shades of gray, lilac, or mauve.”

  “I didn’t realize.”

  “Her Gracious Majesty no longer appears in public. At the wedding ceremony in St. George’s Chapel here at Windsor, Queen Victoria will watch from above in Queen Katherine’s Closet, where the guests won’t be able to see her.”

  How very strange. “I must learn the customs of my new country.”

  “Indeed, that would be wise. Your Danish accent will undoubtedly set you apart.”

  I need an ally. Lady Emily will never befriend me. “Do you know if the prince’s sister Vicky has arrived for the wedding?”

  “I don’t believe the Crown Princess of Prussia is here at Windsor as yet. Come along, or you will be late for your fittings. Punctuality is paramount at our royal court.”

  Alexandra followed Emily to a large chamber where a dozen sewing ladies were working on various garments. Clothing and bolts of material were piled high on tables and chairs, and in the center of the room stood a designer’s mannequin dressed in the most ornate, ostentatious, embellished gown the princess had ever seen.

  Her eyes widened with horror as it slowly dawned on her that this might possibly be her wedding dress. Alexandra’s hand went to her head as a wave of dizziness came over her and she swayed on her feet.

  Jane, Countess of Dalkeith, snatched up the clothes piled on the nearest chair. “Sit down, Your Highness. You have gone pale, my dear.”

  “She’s quite overcome at the sight of the magnificent wedding gown,” Emily explained.

  Alexandra sat down quickly, and Lady Jane knelt down before her. “Did you not have breakfast, my dear?”

  “She had a full English breakfast brought on a tray—eggs, ham, sausage, kidneys, fried bread—but hardly ate a thing.” Emily rolled her eyes at Jane.

  “Perhaps toast and a little fruit would be more to your taste, Your Highness?”

  Alexandra managed a tight little smile, and Lady Jane assured her that tomorrow’s breakfast tray would be more to her liking.

  “There’s no time to waste,” Emily told the sewing women. “Take the wedding gown off the mannequin. Please stand, Your Highness, so I can remove your dress.”

  “I will do it myself,” Alexandra said shyly. She removed her gray dress and stood in her plain linen shift, waiting for the women to lift the monstrosity over her head.

  First they put on a whalebone and wire crinoline and fastened the tapes at her narrow waist. Then they lifted on the gown. “Oh dear, it gapes ev
erywhere. It will have to be taken in a great deal. The princess is so slim,” the head fitting woman declared.

  “Too slim,” Emily said. “Her Highness unfortunately has an unfashionable figure.”

  “Princess Alexandra has a girlish figure because she is still a girl,” Jane said kindly.

  Alix was vastly relieved when they removed the wedding dress, but almost immediately her anxiety returned as the fitting women urged her to try on some of her wedding trousseau. She shook her head as they held up one garment after another. “They are not my style,” she whispered unhappily.

  “And a good thing, since your style is dowdy and unfashionable,” Emily declared.

  Alexandra’s eyes flooded with tears and she ran from the chamber.

  “Well, did you ever?” Emily demanded to the room at large.

  “Lady Emily, your words were most unkind,” Jane protested. “Try to imagine yourself in her place; all this must seem extremely strange to her.”

  “She turned her nose up at everything that has been especially designed for her, at great cost to Her Majesty. Her reaction to the Worth wedding gown showed her lack of taste and breeding. Though it pains me deeply, it is my duty to inform Queen Victoria.”

  The Countess of Dalkeith followed Lady Emily from the chamber, determined to play advocate for the unhappy bride-to-be.

  When Emily finished her diatribe to the dour-faced queen, Lady Jane spoke up.

  “I’m afraid Princess Alexandra feels overwhelmed by all the royal trappings. She is young and unworldly, which is to be desired in a bride.”

  “And what is your solution to this dilemma, Lady Jane?” Victoria asked.

  “I believe that Princess Alexandra would benefit from a couple of ladies-in-waiting who are her own age, Your Majesty. I take the liberty of recommending my own sister.”

  “You could be right, Jane. I am loath to share my ladies-in-waiting with Alexandra. Your loyalty to me must be paramount.” Victoria looked directly at Emily. “Your sister Lady Anne, the one with the flair for elegant fashion, should serve the purpose.”