The Summer Queen

by Margaret Pemberton

General speculation followed, concerning who else might be on their grandmother’s list of prospective brides for Eddy. Aware that Doomsday could come and go before her name appeared on the list, and that it had certainly never entered Toria, Looloo or Maudie’s head to mention her as a possible bridal candidate, May gritted her teeth and soldiered on with the game.

  The rain that had been moderate a little while ago was now heavy and was making so much noise against the windows that, even though the drawing room was at the front of the house, none of them heard the clatter of a carriage drawing up to the front portico.

  When, a few minutes later, the drawing-room door opened and Eddy walked in, his sisters sprang to their feet and rushed to greet him.

  ‘Darling Eddy! Why didn’t you let us know you were going to be home today?’ Toria rarely showed delight at anything, but her face shone with happiness at his unexpected arrival.

  Looloo hugged him as if he was Georgie, returning home after a year at sea.

  Maudie tucked her hand eagerly through his arm. ‘Have you got unexpected leave, Eddy dear, or have you gone absent without leave?’

  ‘The latter, I hope,’ Frank said teasingly, nearly as pleased to see Eddy as his sisters were, but disappointed that Eddy was not in his distinctive gold-braided Hussar’s uniform. He tossed his copy of Horse & Hound to one side. At least now Eddy was here, he would be able to talk horseracing with him, which would be a welcome change from listening to the girls’ inane chatter about which German princess was destined to be their future sister-in-law.

  ‘Did you strike it lucky with Willie Hamilton’s horse at Newmarket last week?’ he asked, knowing that if they talked about horseracing, the six-year age difference between the two of them would disappear.

  Eddy disentangled himself from Looloo’s exuberant embrace. ‘No, I backed Sun Dawn, not Miss Jummy.’

  He acknowledged May’s presence with an inclination of his head and a brief ‘Cousin May’, and then did a double-take. The Cousin May he remembered had been nothing spectacular to look at – and she still wasn’t, in comparison with a lot of the young women he spent time with – but she had certainly blossomed. Tall and slender and with china-blue eyes, she had a poise about her that none of his sisters, all of whom were around her age, possessed.

  Seating himself in a companion armchair to Frank’s, Eddy said chummily, ‘I take it you backed Miss Jummy and came out of things handsomely, Frank?’ He took a cigarette case from his inner jacket pocket, proffering one to Frank, before lighting up himself.

  Frank had been smoking since he was twelve, and the surge of pleasure he felt wasn’t because Eddy thought him old enough to smoke, but because he and Eddy were having a one-to-one chat without the interfering presence of anyone else. The girls didn’t count, even though, with the exception of May, they were all clustering around the armchairs. Maudie perched on the arm of Eddy’s chair, while Toria and Looloo drew up fat leather pouffes so that they could sit at the foot of it.

  ‘I did rather,’ he replied. He shot May a quick glance, but as she was toying with the Halma-board chequers and seemed lost in thought, he risked saying, ‘And I scooped the jackpot at Epsom Downs with Firefly at sixty-six to one.’

  He kept his voice low, for his growing passion for gambling was not something he wanted either May or his parents to become aware of.

  Eddy was impressed, as Frank had hoped he would be. ‘You’re obviously a lucky cub when it comes to the turf.’ He shot Frank his slow, sweet smile. ‘Perhaps you can give me some tips.’

  Frank was more than willing, and was also more than a little relieved when May rose from the games table and walked to the bank of long windows at the far end of the drawing room.

  She did so looking perfectly composed, but that was only thanks to steely self-discipline. Eddy’s sudden arrival had filled her first with elation, then with crippling shyness and lastly, after his brief acknowledgement of her, with bleak acceptance that she was not of the slightest interest to him. Making matters worse had been Toria, Looloo and Maudie leaving her marooned on her own, for there was no way she could have joined them in drawing up a pouffe to Eddy’s armchair or perched on a chair arm. It was all right for his sisters to behave in such a way, but for her to have done so would have looked very odd indeed.

  Something else that had looked odd was the way she had been left so conspicuously alone at the games table, which was why she had walked to the windows. At least there she could have her back to everyone and, with feigned interest, look out at the rain-lashed garden.

  If she could have summoned the carriage that had brought them from White Lodge, she would have done so, but she and Frank couldn’t leave without their mother, and their mother was with Aunt Alix, discussing Needlework Guild matters. The Guild provided clothing for the poor and was a charity that her mother gave a great deal of time to.

  May was just thinking how odd it was that her mother should be so efficient when it came to the charitable work she undertook, given that she was so inefficient in every other area of her life, when she became aware of someone walking up and standing beside her.

  She knew, without turning her head, that it was Eddy.

  ‘I haven’t had a chance to talk with you since you returned from Rome,’ he said in the lazy drawl she found so attractive.

  ‘Florence.’ Her heart was beating in thick, slamming strokes. ‘A little less than a year ago we returned from Florence, not Rome.’

  ‘Ah, yes.’ He gave a lopsided smile. Florence accounted for why May had changed so much from how he remembered her. ‘You lived there for ages, didn’t you? I know Maudie missed you terribly.’

  ‘We were there two years.’ Her hands were clasped so tightly that her nails were digging into her flesh. Please, she prayed silently. Please God, let him say that he missed me too!

  He didn’t. Standing so close to her that his shoulder was brushing hers, Eddy said in a friendly manner, ‘It must have been very strange for you, living so long in a country that doesn’t speak English.’

  Surprise jolted her out of her almost paralysing shyness. ‘Oh, but lots of the people we mixed with were English expatriates, and from the first day we were there I took Italian lessons. It meant I was soon able to make myself understood and, as well as having English friends, and an American friend, I soon had lots of Italian friends as well.’

  ‘Good Lord!’ His surprise was genuine. ‘I must say I find that extremely enterprising of you, May. I’ve always been a duffer at languages. Because my mother is Danish, I speak Danish, but I’ve never been able to get the hang of either French or German.’

  Although Eddy standing so close to her was still making her heart race, May’s nervous tension had ebbed. ‘That’s because you were only taught French and German by an English teacher, in an English classroom. For me, because I was living in Italy, learning Italian was relatively easy.’

  ‘You’re probably right.’ He hesitated and then said, ‘One of the reasons I wanted to speak to you without anyone else hearing is because the girls are discussing whom I might choose as a bride, from my grandmother’s list of possibles, and when I realized I was on the point of telling them – and filling them with disappointment – I thought it best to walk away.’

  The blood drummed in May’s ears. From out of nowhere had come a subject so unexpected, she wondered if she had misheard him.

  He said wryly, ‘They all expect me to plump for Mossy.’

  She hadn’t misheard him. Scarcely able to believe Eddy was trusting her with such information, she turned to face him, her hand at her throat. ‘And . . . you haven’t done so?’

  ‘No. I know from Maudie that you never gossip, Cousin May, and that I can trust you not to let this go any further, but when I was at Balmoral a few months ago, so were the two younger Hesse-Darmstadt girls, and it was then that I knew who I was going to marry.’

  The drumming in May’s ears became deafening.

  Irène. He was going to marry Irène. And unli
ke the princesses on the list who were not of marriageable age, Irène was nearly twenty now, which meant the official announcement would not be very long in coming.

  She had always known that when Eddy married, it would be to someone in her Aunt Queen’s vast extended family network, but she had been hoping it would be to someone like Mossy; someone she barely knew and therefore wasn’t on friendly terms with.

  ‘Granny Queen will be pleased.’ He gave her another of the slow, sweet smiles that she found so sexy, and which sent tingles down her spine. ‘Alicky will be sixteen in two years’ time,’ he added, ‘and her name has always been the one at the top of her list.’

  May’s hand was still at her throat. The high collar of her gown was pinned with a brooch and beneath the tips of her fingers the jewels were cold and hard and sharp. She thought of Alicky’s letters to her. Letters full of her certainty that Nicky Romanov was her one true love, and that she knew with all her heart they would be together until the end of time.

  It was a dream that would now end in ashes, for there was another side to the small, squat figure who always dressed in black. Their Aunt Queen and Granny Queen was also Queen Victoria, and as such, when it came to what she perceived as her royal duty – or anyone else’s royal duty – she was as implacable and immovable as the Rock of Gibraltar. She would tell Alicky that her destiny lay in England; that it was her duty to marry Eddy and be a future Queen Consort of England, not a future Tsarina of Russia. And just as a long line of the Queen’s Prime Ministers had done before her, Alicky would be pressured into obeying, and royal duty would win out over love.

  Alicky would marry Eddy, even though her heart lay elsewhere. Eddy would discover that he had married someone incapable of loving him. And she, May, would most likely never be loved at all.

  A flash of lightning forked across the sky, followed by a crack of thunder so deafening that the chandeliers shook. Toria and Looloo jumped to their feet with little hysterical squeals.

  Eddy said, ‘It was good talking to you, May, but I’d best get back to the girls. Thunderstorms scare the life out of them.’ And, turning away from her, he strode back over to them.

  May, too, was afraid; not of the thunder and lightning, but of the future and what it might hold for Alicky, Eddy and, having been a debutante for nearly a year without attracting even one suitor, herself. Yet again she felt an outsider. She was a Serene Princess who was not royal enough to feature on a list of possible brides for Eddy; not royal enough to attract any other royal suitor; and not pretty enough to encourage an aristocratic suitor to overlook her lack of a dowry. All of which meant she was very unlikely ever to have a home of her own, or children.

  She straightened her already very straight posture. Self-pity had never been one of her weaknesses and she had no intention of indulging in it now. She would deal in a positive way with the hand that fate had dealt her. She was already acting as her mother’s lady-in-waiting and she would begin acting as her secretary, in order that her mother could take on even more charitable work. When her brothers married and had children, she would be the best possible aunt to them, and she would continue with what she found so fulfilling – her interest in art and literature. In the future, whenever moments of bleakness took her unawares, she would remind herself that it was better not to be married at all than to be trapped in a loveless marriage.

  Full of strong resolutions, and with her emotions again under control, May continued watching the storm grow in intensity, fiercely hoping that when Alicky married Eddy, she wouldn’t – at her Kindred Spirit’s request – be one of the bridesmaids walking down the aisle behind them.

  Chapter Twelve

  MARCH 1888, MARLBOROUGH HOUSE

  Well muffled up against a cold breeze, May, who was now twenty, and Alicky, who was only three months away from being sixteen, were swinging gently backwards and forwards on swings that had been erected at Marlborough House as an eighth-birthday present for Toria.

  May had grown into an intelligent, quietly confident young woman who, although serious by nature, also possessed a sense of the ridiculous and was fun to be with. Her naturally dark gold hair held intriguing copper highlights and she wore it, as she had always worn it, pulled back high and tight at the sides and with a frizzled low fringe. It suited her and was distinctive – and May liked to be distinctive.

  ‘It’s good to be together again,’ she said to Alicky, whose riotous red-gold hair was scooped up beneath a fur hat that came down over her ears.

  ‘Yes. Family life is crazy, isn’t it? We didn’t meet up for ages and ages after becoming Kindred Spirits at Osborne, and now here we are, together again less than a year after Granny Queen’s Golden Jubilee.’

  ‘But this time without having a smoulderingly angry Willy to contend with.’

  ‘No, thank goodness.’ Alicky’s swing had come to rest and, with the toe of a high-buttoned boot, she pushed it into motion again. ‘Our secret Kindred Spirit has never been one of Uncle Bertie and Aunt Alix’s favourite nephews, so it’s no surprise they didn’t want him at their Silver Wedding celebrations.’

  May’s arms were hooked around the chains of her swing, leaving her gloved hands free. She’d always thought there was an aura of glamour about twenty-nine-year-old Willy, but was well aware it wasn’t how his close relatives viewed him. She tucked her hands into the large fur muff that was resting on her knees and said, ‘Although he behaved badly at the Jubilee celebrations, I felt a lot of sympathy for him. After all, he is the Queen’s firstborn grandchild and if she had invited him to be her aide-de-camp for the day – as she did Eddy and Georgie – he could, like them, have ridden beside her carriage all along the processional route and would have been seen to be that little bit more special than any of the other world royalties taking part in it.’

  ‘And that would have made him happy?’

  ‘Yes, of course it would.’ May sometimes thought she was the only person in the family who understood Cousin Willy even a little. ‘Willy likes to shine and be the centre of attention. If he had been allowed to shine at the Jubilee, he would have oozed charm all week. I’ve no idea why the Queen is so out of sorts with him, but you must have noticed that when it came to the formal celebration dinner at Buckingham Palace, he and Dona were seated so far away from her they were practically in another room.’

  ‘Yes, I did notice, and I know why.’ Alicky put her foot to the ground to bring her swing to a halt. A year ago her sister Irène had become engaged to Willy’s brother, Heinrich, and as a result she knew far more about what was going on in the Hohenzollern family than May did. ‘It was because Willy and Aunt Vicky were at loggerheads about his father’s medical treatment, and Granny Queen was angry with him for causing his mother additional distress at such a difficult time. You do know Uncle Fritz has throat cancer, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, of course I know. What I didn’t know was that Willy’s always-unhappy relationship with his mother had been made even worse because of it.’ May brought the swing to a halt. ‘Do you remember what Willy told us about the way he suffered when, because she was so ashamed of his deformed arm, she allowed the doctors to use barbaric practices in an attempt to lengthen it? Whatever is going on with Uncle Fritz’s treatment, Willy could be quite right to object to it.’

  ‘It’s a different situation this time. The bad feeling is because Aunt Vicky refuses to believe Uncle Fritz has cancer and doesn’t want him to have surgery, whereas Willy believes that only drastic surgery will save his father’s life. Whatever the truth of it, May, the battle lines have been drawn and I think it’s a relief to everyone that Willy and Dona aren’t among the guests this week.’

  It was such an unhappy thing to be talking about that they fell silent for several minutes and then, bringing up a subject she definitely wanted to talk to May about while they were on their own, Alicky said, ‘Granny Queen has become very heated in her insistence that it’s time I fell in with her marriage plans. She wants me to become engaged to Eddy and
I had to endure a week at Balmoral with him – the idea being that by the end of the week our engagement would be announced. Naturally, it wasn’t. Eddy declared himself to be heartbroken with disappointment, but whether he really was I’m not quite sure. The problem for both him and Granny Queen is that although Germany and Denmark are littered with cousins and second cousins who tick all the right boxes, when it comes to their eligibility as a future Princess of Wales and then, further down the line, a future Queen of England, none of them are, at the moment, the right age.’

  ‘Moretta, Willy’s sister is.’ May was finding the subject almost as painful as the previous one. ‘She’s twenty-one.’

  ‘Maybe, but she isn’t Granny Queen’s favourite grandchild. I am, and she’s set her heart on me marrying Eddy, but even though I can see there is something very sexy about him – those slumberous, dark eyes and the way you can never quite tell what he’s thinking – I’m not going to marry him, because he isn’t my soulmate. Nicky Romanov is my soulmate and it’s something Granny Queen is just going to have to come to terms with.’ She pushed her swing into movement again, adding, ‘And although Granny Queen doesn’t yet know it, I shall be seeing lots and lots of Nicky before the year is out, for Ella and Sergei have invited me to spend the autumn and winter with them in St Petersburg, and Papa, God bless him, is in full agreement that I should go.’

  May was enjoying all the fun and family hilarity that formed the keynote of any party held at Marlborough House. For her, Uncle Bertie and Aunt Alix were master party hosts, and over the last two days she had been able to spend time with family she rarely saw – family such as Ducky and Missy, who were now eleven and twelve and were both exhilaratingly high-spirited. Together with Alicky, Irène and their brother Ernie, the six of them, at Ducky’s suggestion, had spent a riotous hour sliding down a Marlborough House staircase on tea-trays.

  That evening, as her mother chatted to her and her dresser helped her into a sumptuous gown of shimmering turquoise silk, May told her mother what fun the tea-tray sliding had been.