The family carriage they had arrived in was waiting in the Academy’s courtyard and, before they reached it, Maudie came to a halt.
‘I wanted to see you so that I could talk to you about Frank. I thought I could perhaps do so as we walked around the exhibition, but the minute we arrived I realized it wasn’t the right place.’ She looked towards the waiting carriage. ‘Would you mind if we walked down Piccadilly, towards the Circus? It will be crowded, but we should have more privacy than in the Academy. And Jim will keep us in sight and will be only yards away, when we are ready to return to Marlborough House.’
‘Jim?’
‘The coachman. He’s quite a chum and regularly covers up for me.’
This knowledge did nothing to ease May’s peace of mind.
Moments later they walked out in the street, their parasols shading their faces to lessen the likelihood of anyone recognizing them.
‘It’s Frank,’ Maudie said. ‘He wants to marry me, but he says that because he is only semi-royal, neither Granny Queen nor Papa would give their permission.’
Whatever May had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that Frank wanted to marry Maudie, and that he had told Maudie so without first speaking to her father, or Aunt Queen. She was so taken aback she couldn’t think of a suitable response, for how could she congratulate Maudie, when she knew Frank was quite right in supposing that he and Maudie were unlikely to be given permission to marry?
‘And because Frank is so certain that permission wouldn’t be given,’ Maudie continued, ‘he hasn’t asked for it, which I think is too silly for words. After all, until he asks, how can he know? And if Looloo has been allowed to marry a non-royal aristocrat, surely I – the unimportant baby of the family – will be given permission to marry a Serene Highness?’
Logically, May didn’t see why she shouldn’t, but she was old enough to know that logic didn’t have a lot do with royal marriages. Maudie being allowed to marry Frank would be just as unthinkable as she, May, being allowed to marry Eddy, or Georgie.
Aware that such an idea would never enter Eddy or Georgie’s head and that, even if it did, it would never get off the ground, she said carefully, ‘I think Looloo was lucky in that, as the eldest daughter of the heir to the throne, permission was given for her to marry into the aristocracy instead of to a fellow royal; and I’m sure Fife being a Scot, and his owning half of Scotland, had a lot to do with it, where Granny Queen was concerned. It’s such a great pity that your childhood closeness to Frank has been allowed to grow into a serious romance, Maudie. And for that, Frank is to blame.’
‘No, it isn’t. Not really. Frank took a lot of chasing, before he began feeling the same way about me as I do about him. And it’s all so unfair, May. Looloo is unbelievably happy with Fife. Georgie has now recovered from his heartache over Julia Stoner and fancies himself in love with Missy – a result of all the leaves that he has spent with the Edinburghs on Malta – and if she’ll have him, there will be no objections at all to his marrying her. And dear, darling Eddy is at last in love with someone he will be allowed to marry.’
May missed her step and stumbled.
‘And so why,’ Maudie continued as May regained her balance, ‘can’t I marry Frank? I don’t give tuppence about him being semi-royal. It isn’t as if I’m ever going to succeed to the throne. Eddy, Georgie, Looloo and Toria are all in front of me, when it comes to that – and so it doesn’t matter a fig that Frank isn’t of equal birth.’
‘Who,’ May said, as a crowded horse-drawn bus rattled nosily past them, ‘is Eddy in love with?’
‘Aunt Louise says all this fuss about whose grandfather or grandmother married beneath them, resulting in their children and grandchildren being ineligible to reign, is a lot of bosh and should be struck from off the Royal Statute Books. That is, if it is written in them, which I assume it is.’
‘Who,’ May said again, ‘is Eddy in love with?’
‘Princess Hélène of Orléans. And so I want you to speak to your parents, May. I don’t think Frank has spoken to them about wanting to marry me, but it would be so helpful if I knew they knew, and it would be so encouraging if they were happy for us to marry, for they might be able to bring pressure to bear on Granny Queen; and if Granny Queen was happy for us to marry, then Papa would have to be as well.’
There was a certain logic in what Maudie was saying, but May couldn’t focus on it. She was still coming to terms with the thought of Eddy being in love with Hélène. ‘How long,’ she asked, stepping out of the way of an elderly woman selling lavender, ‘has it been going on?’
The brim of Maudie’s hat was laden with artificial flowers, and beneath them her eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘But you know how long, May. I’ve always been in love with Frank. I can’t remember ever not being.’
‘Sorry, Maudie. I was referring to Eddy and Hélène.’
‘About a month – and I don’t think you’re concentrating on what I’m saying, May. I don’t think you appreciate how important it is that permission is given for Frank and me to marry.’
May thought of all the reasons why no such permission would be given. There was the fact that Frank wasn’t of equal birth; but there were lots of other reasons as well. For one thing, Frank’s surname was Teck and, much as she hated admitting it, their family name came with a lot of damaging baggage.
Her mother’s carelessness with money – a carelessness Frank had inherited – had led to bailiffs pawing over their possessions; the shame of having the contents of their home sold at public auction; and a very public two-year exile in Florence. Uncle Bertie couldn’t help his cousinship to her mother, but he certainly wouldn’t want their family ties to become even closer. She wondered, if it had been Dolly and not Frank that Maudie was in love with, if things might have been different, for at least with Dolly there had never been a hint of regrettable behaviour.
The same couldn’t be said for Frank, who had gained a reputation for outrageousness when, as a schoolboy, he had been expelled from his prestigious public school for tossing the headmaster over a hedge. Dark-haired and swarthily handsome, he was a free spirit who didn’t care what people thought, or said, about him. A compulsive gambler, he was always at a racecourse, dog track or casino, and was either gleeful at his winnings or carelessly indifferent to his losses, and it was impossible to imagine the Prince and Princess of Wales giving him permission to marry their daughter.
‘And so will you speak to your parents, May?’ Maudie asked as they reached Piccadilly Circus and came to a halt. ‘I’m quite sure if you did, it would turn things around in a flash.’
May could never remember being in such a quandary. Not only was Frank a reckless gambler, but according to Dolly he had also acquired the reputation of being a womanizer, something Maudie was presumably unaware of. Just as worrying was that Frank hadn’t given the slightest indication that his feelings for Maudie were such that he would marry her, if he could; and, knowing her brother as she did, May doubted if what he had said had been sincerely meant.
Not wanting to encourage Maudie in her hope that her relationship with Frank was going to have a happy ending, and wanting to protect her from hurt, she replied, ‘If you really want me to, I’ll speak to my parents in the way that you’ve asked, but I truly think the best thing you can do for your future happiness is to end your romance with Frank, because I honestly don’t believe it can have a happy ending.’
People were bustling past them in a never-ending throng. Bicycles, horse-drawn buses, carts and carriages rattled and clattered as they rounded the fountain in the centre of the Circus and streamed off into Piccadilly, Regent Street and Shaftesbury Avenue. Over the general din, Maudie said cheerfully, ‘Oh, but it will have a happy ending, May. My romance with Frank has gone too far down the road for it not to.’
Out of the corner of her eye, May saw with relief that Jim had brought the carriage-horses to a halt and was waiting for them only yards away.
‘I’m sure it must see
m like that, when you’ve known each for as long as both of you can remember—’
‘That isn’t what I meant by Frank and me having gone too far down the road for us not to be allowed to marry.’ The expression in Maudie’s cornflower-blue eyes was both defiant and triumphant. ‘Frank and I are lovers, May. We are lovers in the most full and wonderful way possible. So you see, if the worst comes to the worst and the answer is no, when Frank finally asks Papa and Granny Queen if he can marry me, then I shall tell them that unless I’m allowed to marry Frank, gossip will get out about my having lost my virginity and the result will be no one else ever asking for my hand in marriage. Poor, dear Toria will be tainted by association, and Granny Queen will die of heart failure.’
May thought that she, too, might die of heart failure. How could she be in a public place – and not just any public place, but Piccadilly Circus – listening to dearest, lovely Maudie telling her that she was no longer a virgin, and that the person responsible was her brother Frank? She tried to imagine the repercussions if the Queen was to get to know of it, but her imagination simply wouldn’t stretch that far.
‘And so you will tell your mama that Frank wants to marry me, and you will ask your mama to speak with Granny Queen about her giving permission for him to do so, won’t you? Everything will be so much nicer if no notice is taken of the silly old unequal-birth thing, and Frank and I can have a lovely wedding at Buckingham Palace.’
‘Yes.’ May fought off a wave of dizziness by focusing on the bronze statue on top of the fountain. ‘Yes, I will speak with Mama, Maudie.’
‘But not about how far down the road Frank and I have gone? I want to save that as a last resort.’
It was a last resort that May fervently hoped would never be used.
‘Frank wants to marry Maudie?’ Princess Mary Adelaide’s reaction was one of amazement, swiftly followed by delight. Out of Bertie and Alix’s five children, Maudie had always been her favourite and she could think of nothing nicer than to have Maudie as a daughter-in-law. ‘But why hasn’t Frank spoken to Papa about wishing to do so? And he hasn’t. Papa wouldn’t keep that kind of news to himself.’
‘Maudie says Frank is certain that if he were to ask her father and Aunt Queen for permission to marry her, permission would be refused on the grounds of his being a Serene, and Frank wouldn’t have wanted to remind Papa of the unequal-birth thing in his lineage. You know how mention of that always upsets him.’
Her mother knew it only too well.
‘And so if you and Papa are happy at the thought of her marrying Frank, Maudie wanted me to ask if you will approach Aunt Queen about the two of them marrying. As Aunt Queen broke an old-established rule by allowing Looloo to marry a non-royal, I don’t see why she wouldn’t do the same thing for Maudie.’
‘And neither do I.’ To May’s vast relief, there was firm conviction in her mother’s voice. ‘Being her first cousin, I understand dear Victoria far better than anyone else, and I know, from my own experience, that she takes a surprisingly relaxed view where the subject of equal birth is concerned; far more relaxed than those of continental royalties. When I was about to marry your Papa, she wrote me a very kind letter in which she said she had always thought it wrong and absurd that because dear Papa’s mother was not a princess, he was unable to succeed to the Württemberg throne.’
‘And so do you think Frank and Maudie can be hopeful about getting permission to marry?’
‘I think they can be exceedingly hopeful, and I shall ask Papa to telegram dear Frank at his Royal Dragoons barracks, telling him so. For now I am going to send word by messenger to Aunt Queen asking her if I may visit her at her earliest convenience. Fetch me pen and paper, May. Oh dear, my poor old heart. It’s racing fit to burst!’
The next morning, and accompanied by May, Princess Mary Adelaide was happily en route to Windsor.
‘Papa is beside himself at the thought of having even closer family ties to the Waleses.’ She leaned out of the carriage to wave to a small group of children standing by the roadside, all of whom waved back enthusiastically. ‘With Frank married to Maudie, perhaps dear Victoria will finally agree to giving Papa the title of Royal Highness, which he so longs for.’
May made a polite sound to show sympathy with her mother’s hopes, but her thoughts weren’t on what advantages might come to her father if Frank and Maudie were allowed to marry; they were on Eddy.
She hadn’t seen him since he had returned from India a month ago, and because there had been no house parties recently that might have included the Parises, or any family weddings or christenings they may have been invited to, she couldn’t imagine when and where Eddy and Hélène had so recently fallen in love.
What was understandable, though, was Eddy having fallen in love with Hélène. She was beautiful, sweet-natured and possessed enviable French chic, wearing clothes with head-turning elegance and style. If they really were in love and married, Hélène, with her dark hair and dark eyes, would one day be the most ravishing queen England had ever had.
The prospect filled May with a turbulent mix of emotions: happiness that Eddy would be marrying someone he loved and who loved him in return, and painful regret that her most secret daydream would have to end.
Once they had arrived at Windsor, her mother hurried off to speak to the Queen in privacy, and May was kept company in the White Drawing Room by her Aunt Beatrice. She had barely taken a sip of the Indian tea that the two of them had been served when a footman announced Frank’s arrival. He strode into the room, looking as tense as a tightly wound spring.
Overjoyed at seeing him, May sprang to her feet, saying swiftly in order to ease his tension, ‘Mama is already speaking with Aunt Queen.’
He didn’t look towards her. Instead he said urgently to Beatrice, ‘Please interrupt my mother’s conversation with the Queen. It’s vitally important she doesn’t ask on my behalf what she has come here to ask.’
May’s jaw dropped.
The teaspoon Beatrice had been holding clattered into its saucer.
‘Please, Beatrice!’ There was panic in his voice as well as urgency. ‘It’s vital you do as I ask.’
‘But my dear Frank, I can’t possibly do such a thing.’ Beatrice couldn’t have looked more horrified if Frank had asked her to stand on a table and dance the cancan.
May said, struggling to understand Frank’s request, ‘Are you frightened of Aunt Queen saying permission for you to marry Maudie is out of the question?’
‘No! The opposite! Beatrice, if you don’t interrupt my mother’s conversation with the Queen, I will.’
The thought of Frank Teck bursting in on her mother, when she had asked not to be disturbed, was so horrifying Beatrice stumbled to her feet and almost ran from the room.
May said bewilderedly, ‘What on earth is the matter, Frank? In all probability, Aunt Queen is telling Mama that if you and Maudie wish to marry, then you can.’
‘Hell’s bells, May! Didn’t you understand what I said a second ago?’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t want to marry Maudie. I don’t want to marry anyone! I’m not the marrying kind, and it’s because I don’t want to marry Maudie – and because I care for her too much to want to hurt her feelings, by admitting to it – that I told her I would never be given permission to do so. I said it, God help me, because it was the only reasonable excuse I could think of for my not proposing to her!’
May put a hand on the nearest small table to steady herself, overcome by the horror of Frank having led Maudie on in the way he had, when he never had the slightest intention of marrying her. That he had behaved so dishonourably was almost more than she could grasp.
She said hoarsely, ‘Then you shouldn’t have compromised her!’
He sucked in his breath, stunned by how much she knew about his own and Maudie’s relationship.
‘And because you have compromised her, if Aunt Queen tells Mama she will give permission for you and Maudie to marry, then that is what you are hon
our-bound to do.’
‘I know.’ There were beads of sweat on his forehead. ‘But if I do have to propose to her, there will be little chance of her accepting me, when I tell her how unfaithful I have been to her. Of how incapable I am of fidelity and of how, for the last six months, I have been in love with a married woman several years older than myself. If, when I admit all this, she still wants to marry me, then I will do the right thing and marry her, but somehow I don’t think Maudie will still want to marry me, do you? In fact, I don’t think she’ll ever want to see me again.’
They were interrupted by Beatrice hurrying back into the room and saying, with a smile on her face, certain that the news she was bringing was good news, ‘Your mama will be with you both in a couple of minutes, and she has asked me to tell you that her premonition was correct and that all is well.’
Frank drew in a deep, steadying breath and then said, ‘Thank you for the message, Aunt Beatrice. When my mother joins you, will you please give her my apologies and tell her I’ve left for Marlborough House?’
And then, ashen-faced and without another word, he strode from the room.
Chapter Sixteen
JUNE 1890, MARLBOROUGH HOUSE
The next few weeks were deeply distressful for May. Frank had proposed to Maudie and, after admitting to her that he had never been faithful to her and was presently having an affair with a married woman – and that it was an affair he had no desire to end – it was a proposal she had broken-heartedly turned down.
Not knowing the circumstances, both his mother and his father were almost hysterical with disappointment – Princess Mary Adelaide because the wedding would have been such a prestigious one for Frank, and the Duke of Teck because he had imagined that, on becoming father-in-law to one of the Prince of Wales’s daughters, the Queen would fulfil his heart’s desire and bestow on him the title of Royal Highness. It was a distress that doubled when Frank abruptly left the country, doing so for an unspecified destination and for an unspecified length of time.
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