I have taken up watercolors again and have been teaching Hattie and Pips. We motored out to a picturesque harbor for a couple of hours. Hattie’s getting the idea, but Pips is too fastidious. The secret is simply to splash on the colors. If it turns out not to look like fishermen mending their nets, then call it something else.
Jack Aird is very sour about being kept under house arrest with nothing to do except, as he said, “Police the functions of madam’s dog and read day-old newspapers.”
13th August 1934
I don’t know that Biarritz is doing Wally much good. She’s become very scratchy, threatening to fire the help, snapping at Jack Aird, and sneering at poor Judson at the tables last night. She said, “Hattie, does your husband have anything going on upstairs? Doesn’t he know he should always bet on the bank?” Hattie was livid. She said she’s glad they’re leaving. Pips says she wants to leave with them, but Freddie said they must stay at least until the Perry Brownlows get here. He said, “We can’t abandon poor Maybell. And anyway, it’s absolutely not done to curtail a visit with a royalty, unless there’s some kind of emergency.”
Pips said, “Then darling, please wire Mussolini and ask him to create one.”
14th August 1934
Hattie and Judson left this morning. Wally sent her maid down to say she was still busy with her hairdresser and so couldn’t come down for good-byes. She appeared just before luncheon and lay bronzing herself, HRH playing Itsy Spider on her arm. “David,” she said, “why don’t you go and play golf?”
Pips swears she heard Jack Aird whisper, “Off with her head!”
15th August 1934
Dinner in town with Marthe Bibesco, the Crokers, and the Dimitri Shapaleffs.
Marthe heavily laden with sapphires. Wally and HRH didn’t join us. Wally had a sick headache and David refused to leave her.
Ethel said, “Has she had too much sun?”
Jack Aird said, “No. Too much heir.”
16th August 1934
Wally is completely recovered. She came down sporting a pair of fire opal ear clips, which appeared on her breakfast tray this morning. HRH silent but attentive. He held her hand all through luncheon. The Perry Brownlows arrived, having motored all the way from Lincolnshire, and went straight onto the tennis court. HRH was called to the telephone twice this afternoon and then again during cockers. Something is going on.
Freddie thinks the King may have ordered David to cut short his vacation. He said, “The whole thing is pretty blatant, you must admit. Aird’s scandalized and he’s seen a few things in his time. He’s probably fired off a complaint somewhere it was likely to reach the right ears.”
No baccarat tonight. A storm blowing in.
17th August 1934
A thunderstorm woke me early. I came downstairs for a glass of milk and found HRH busy on his cycling machine. I said, “The telephone was very lively last night. Not bad news, I hope?”
“Not at all, Maybell,” he said. “Actually rather exciting news. I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
Yesterday’s calls were from Prince George. He’s borrowing David’s airplane to go and sound out Marina of Greece. If he’s favorably received, he’s going to pop the question. Marina of Greece! She’s one of those plain janes Elizabeth York brought to Anne Belchester’s charity auction. Violet’s been promoting her cause for months. I must say I found her rather abrupt. She’ll be very lucky to get Prince George. He’s such a good dancer.
18th August 1934
More telephone calls from Prince George. We’re not allowed to talk about it in case the help eavesdrop, but one senses that the news is encouraging.
Perry Brownlow says it’ll be a great relief to the King and Queen if it comes off, because George has gotten himself into so many scrapes. Jazz singers, drug fiends, undesirables who’ve had to be paid off. Well, I’m sure Marina Greece will soon clip his wings.
19th August 1934
Pips and Freddie have left for Ireland. Pips said, “Come with us. Wally doesn’t need you and she certainly doesn’t deserve you.” But I like it here. The villa is a dream, and anyway, I like being at the heart of things. It’s worth putting up with Wally’s tantrums to do calisthenics with the future King of England and hear news of royal marriages before the rest of the world does. I can just imagine Nora Sedley Cordle catching flies in her silly open mouth if she could only see me!
21st August 1934
Marina of Greece has said yes, and I was one of the first to know. David and I enjoy an early-morning chat most days since he introduced me to the benefits of calisthenics. He feels marina is just the girl for George. Steady without being dull, royal without being grand. Kitsie Brownlow appears to know her pedigree by heart. Her father is a Schleswig-Holstein, her mother is a Russian Grand Duchess, and her sister is married to Paul Yugoslavia. All that said, they’re as poor as Job. The royalties have a very strange attitude toward money. Many of them don’t have any, and the ones who do hold on to it like grim death. Like HRH. All the times I’ve been with him at Ciro’s or the Kit Kat, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him with any jingle in his pocket.
Perry lured him onto the golf course this morning, so Wally has been in a better mood. She’s decided to go to Paris at the end of the vacation. According to HRH, Prince George and Marina are likely to get married before Christmas, so Wally’s in a hurry to order gowns for the occasion. Kitsie Brownlow said, “But Wally won’t be invited, not even with Ernest at her side. Absolutely not.”
I said, “But Prince George has eaten at their table many, many times.”
She said, “Prince George has eaten at countless tables and slid beneath not a few, but that’s beside the point. Wally’s true position is no secret. She’ll never be allowed to set foot anywhere near Their Majesties.”
Time will tell. But nothing is going to persuade her against going to Paris.
23rd August 1934
Prince George’s happy news has been announced officially from Balmoral. I expect they’re en fête at Drumcanna. Violet may even have ordered cream to be served with the oatmeal this morning. Marina Greece’s people seem to lead a vagrant existence, considering all the thrones they’ve occupied. They’re now based mainly in Paris and don’t keep a London house, so who knows, she may even be married from Carlton Gardens.
Walter Guinness, an old acquaintance of HRH, has turned up at the Hotel du Palais. He has his yacht here, presently being provisioned before he sets off on another voyage. He’s a rugged man with startling green eyes and a strange line in conversation. Eskimos. Solomon Islanders. Prehistoric ferns. Mohammedans. One could feel sorry for the wife, but I suppose his enthusiasms leave her plenty of time for bridge.
24th August 1934
HRH announced a plan over luncheon. Prince George and Marina are going to be in Cannes briefly before going to London to be feted, so he’s going to charter a plane and hop over to see them. He said, “It’ll be great fun and give them such a jolly surprise.”
Wally said, “Sir, you know I won’t fly.”
I saw a flicker from Jack Aird. I suppose because he daren’t disobey a royalty, he doesn’t care to see anyone else do it. But I understand Wally, and so does the Prince. She saw too many planes fall out of the sky when she was a Navy wife. Nothing will get her into the air, not even a royal highness.
25th August 1934
There is now a revised plan. Since Wally won’t fly and David won’t be parted from her, we’re going to borrow Walter Guinness’s yacht and sail to Cannes. We’re inviting the Crokers to join us.
26th August 1934
Boss Croker is being a spoilsport. He says the Rosaura is not so much a yacht as a leaking paddle steamer and he’s not yet tired enough of life or Ethel for either of them to sail on it. Also, Walter Guinness is not as grateful as he might be to have the Prince of Wales charter his boat. He says the weather forecasts are worrying, with a strong likelihood of storms. Kitsie Brownlow says she adores rough seas. HRH said, “An
d after the storm, there’ll be a delicious calm. We’ll be able to swim off the yacht. What heaven!”
I had a horrid dream. Marina Greece was getting married to Melhuish on board a ship, and Wally and I were trying to carry her train, but the deck kept listing, and waves kept breaking over us and ruining our hair. Perhaps I should return to London, after all.
27th August 1934
Wally has begged me not to miss the cruise. She says seasickness is a state of mind. She says she trained herself out of it when she made the crossing to China, so I can certainly do the same for a little jaunt around Gibraltar.
She said, “Anyway, I need you, Maybell. You’re my only friend here.”
I said, “You’ve got Sir. And the Brownlows.”
She said, “But you’re my only true friend here. Aird hates me. Guinness is crazy. And I’m still not sure about the Brownlows. They may be Palace Guard disguised in Prince of Wales suiting.”
We sail tomorrow.
28th August 1934, the Rosaura, at sea
Guinness says we have no chance of reaching Cannes in time to greet Prince George and Marina, because the Rosaura burns vast quantities of whatever it is that makes ships go and we’ll be forced to call at many ports. I hoped we might be allowed to disembark, but HRH wasn’t at all discouraged by the news. He said, “If I miss George, I miss him. It was just a fanciful idea anyhow. He’ll understand. We’ll visit as many ports as you deem necessary, Walter. I’m in no hurry, and I’m having an absolutely blissful time.”
Our aim now is to reach Marseilles in time to see another brother, Prince Harry. He’ll be calling there on his way to Australia to do some prince-ing.
29th August 1934
I am dying.
30th August 1934
No mercy.
1st September 1934
The storm has ended. I ventured far enough from my cabin to ascertain that we are in the hands of the insane. There is a monkey running free, owned by Walter Guinness in the way normal people might keep a cat, also two stewards who are never sober. Perry Brownlow told me dinner began with ice cream last night because the cutlets weren’t ready. It matters little to me. I shall never eat again.
2nd September 1934
We have put in at Corunna. Kitsie Brownlow and Jack Aird have gone off with Wally and HRH to visit a cathedral. Perry gallantly stayed behind to protect me from the monkey and the crew. He believes this cruise is the Prince’s last fling. He said, “Next year is their Majesties’ Silver Jubilee, and I predict its crowning glory will be David’s marriage. This is his final self-indulgence, Maybell. His farewell to boyish pleasures.”
I said, “But who will he marry?”
“Ah,” he said, “there you have me. But she’s out there.”
Walter Guinness estimates it will take us nine days to reach Cannes, building in a little time for HRH’s sightseeing whims.
3rd September 1934
Wally had her first encounter with the press yesterday. Word had leaked out that the Prince of Wales might be putting in to Corunna on an informal visit, and a crowd of well-wishers had gathered. A small child presented Wally with a bouquet of flowers and a doll dressed in national costume.
She said, “I felt rather like a queen.”
HRH said, “Darling, you are my Queen.”
Jack Aird almost choked on his brandy.
She’s given me the doll. It will do nicely for Flora.
4th September 1934
We are moored off Vigo, where we heard the news that Ena Spain has lost a son, only twenty years old. He had a slight bump out motoring with his sister and sustained only a bruise, but Violet once told me none of the Spain children is strong. Kitsie Brownlow says they have a bleeding disease. The boys bleed and the girls pass it on to the next generation. Poor Ena. HRH and I both sent notes of sympathy.
5th September 1934
We have been abandoned. Wally and HRH went ashore this morning for sightseeing and have just sent word that they’ve met up with someone Wally knew during her China years and have gone with him to see his house and vineyards. Guinness’s instructions are to send Jack Aird and Wally’s maid in the tender with enough clothes for four days and then to put to sea. They are going to motor down to meet us at Gibraltar. Perry’s furious and was all for getting off and going home, but Kitsie said, “Dearest, Maybell promised to stay and we can’t leave her. No one ever said royalties make easy friends.”
The weather is set fair. We’re staying on to Gibraltar.
8th September 1934
According to the Brownlows, Ralph Habberley is not in Ceylon visiting tea plantations but in Kenya with a cigarette girl. Also that Penelope Blythe’s name has been linked with George Lightfoot. A lie if ever I heard one.
Kitsie has been pumping me about Wally. She said, “What are her intentions?”
I said, “Surely the question is what are David’s intentions?”
She said, “His Royal Highness isn’t at liberty to have any, as I’m sure Wally knows. But she seems a terribly well-organized person. I’m sure she has a plan. I’m sure she knows exactly what she wants to get out of all this. A good house, I suppose? And a title for Ernest?”
I don’t know. Perhaps that is all she wants. She certainly doesn’t seem very much in love. HRH is besotted with her, but Wally always did tire of novelties quickly. If he were anyone else, I’m sure she’d be moving on to new projects by now. But how do you follow the Prince of Wales?
9th September 1934
We have made Gibraltar in good time and glorious weather. Walter has been showing me his collection of seashells and has given me one for Rory. He has really led a most interesting life.
Wally looked ravishing when she came aboard, especially considering she’s been living out of a valise for four days. White linen skirt, a hand-embroidered shirt she’d picked up for peanuts, blue glass beads.
She was bubbling with excitement about her little Portuguese diplomat, how he was as handsome as ever, what a divine house he has overlooking Viana, how wonderful it had been to reminisce about China, and the more she bubbled the tighter HRH held her hand.
He said, “I know, let’s go to Majorca! I don’t want this holiday ever to end.”
11th September 1934
Majorca is enchanting. Sandy bays, pine groves, windmills, and such bargains to be had in the shops. Wally, Kitsie, and I spent the morning sampling orange blossom perfumes. Kitsie can be very forthright. She said, “Wally, I hope you’re not losing your heart to our Prince.”
Wally laughed. She said, “Not at all. I have no illusions. I’m just here to entertain. I’m the circus before the execution. He doesn’t have much to look forward to, does he? Prince-ing. Marriage to some desperate Prussian wallflower. Babies. More prince-ing.”
We spent the afternoon dipping in and out of clear, blue waters. HRH is as frisky as a lamb. Jack Aird is very tense. He says the Prince’s dawdling has now caused them to miss two appointments. Prince George and Marina waited in Cannes as long as they could, then had to leave for London, and Prince Harry, whom he’d cabled most specifically to arrange a little farewell in Marseilles, has had to sail without seeing him.
The Brownlows are leaving us as soon as we get to Cannes. It’d be nice to see the Cavetts if they’re still around, and those nice Rogerses.
13th September 1934, Cannes
The floors of the Miramar appear to be in constant motion. I’ve been far too long at sea.
A note from Kath Rogers, offering dinner. They have Zita and Bernie staying with them, so it’s all worked out beautifully, although Wally doesn’t agree.
She said, “You might have asked me before you wired them. The last thing I feel like is trailing up to someone’s little villa.”
HRH said, “I don’t know, darling. I rather like the idea.”
She said, “Well, don’t expect much. The Rogerses won’t run to your usual level of comfort.”
I said, “I heard they made you very comfortable when y
ou were in Peking.”
She said, “Then you heard wrong, Maybell. Kath Rogers knows nothing about food.”
Boss and Ethel’s lovely friends the Bedaux are here. They sent champagne across to our lunch table.
14th September 1934
The Rogerses house is enchanting, especially the gardens. Hibiscus, frangipani, night jasmine, and we could look down and see the Rosaura at anchor in the bay, hung with lanterns.
HRH said, “I should like to hear all about your China days. It must have been fascinating.”
Herman said, “Well, I guess ‘fascinating’ covers it. Kath thought she was in for a quiet life when she married me, but China was a tinderbox. Not one war, you understand? Lots of little ones. You never knew where things would erupt next. Amazing really how we managed to carry on with normal things like tennis parties and receptions.”
HRH said, “And I’ll bet Wally sparkled through it all.”
Herman said, “Indeed. I’m sure she made as great an impact on Peking as Peking made on her.”
Wally snorted. She said, “I think of my life as having begun when I arrived in London,” and she gave Herman a very long, cool stare.
As we were leaving, HRH said, “Your house is adorable. I should love to stay here someday.”
Gone With the Windsors Page 19
