‘Poor Hélène, and poor Eddy.’ Alicky’s sympathy was genuine. ‘It’s a Georgie-and-Julie-Stoner scenario all over again.’
From where they were seated they could see Marie-Louise and her recently acquired fiancé, Prince Aribert of Anhalt, strolling arm-in-arm in their direction. Royal engagements were never lengthy and their wedding, which was to take place in a few days’ time in Windsor Castle’s chapel, was the reason Alicky and family from Denmark and Germany were already gathered there. Alicky was to be one of the bridesmaids and, before Marie-Louise and Aribert came within hearing distance, she said fiercely, ‘I hate being a bridesmaid. You’re so lucky not always having to be one.’
‘No, I’m not.’ That Alicky could be crassly unperceptive, as well as self-righteous, was something May had long ago got used to. ‘Not when the reason I don’t get asked is because no one wants an unmarried twenty-four-year-old following them down the aisle.’
‘I would. When I marry Nicky, I definitely want you as one of my bridesmaids. And my marriage to Nicky will be a love match. Ernie says that although Marie-Louise is in love with Aribert, he doesn’t think Aribert is in love with Marie-Louise – and Ernie should know, because Aribert is a close friend of his. Not that Ernie had anything to do with arranging the marriage. It was Kindred Spirit Willy who did the arranging. Marie-Louise’s father and Willy’s wife’s father are brothers, and I think Willy enjoyed trumping Granny Queen in the family matchmaking stakes.’
Because of living so close to Windsor, May and her family didn’t stay at the castle, but they did spend most days there, as her parents wanted to seize every opportunity of meeting up with their German relations. Frank was quite naturally spoken of, but only in the sense of what a pity it was that, because of his language studies abroad, he was unable to attend the wedding. To May’s intense relief, Ernst Gunther wasn’t there, either.
‘Poor Ernst is suffering from ear trouble,’ Marie-Louise’s mother said to May. ‘It’s so disappointing, as I understand he is looking for a wife and this would have been such a wonderful opportunity for him to cast his eyes over any still-unmarried members of the family.’
Eddy was duty-bound to put in an appearance at the activities leading up to the wedding, but at each event, with dark shadows beneath his eyes and looking ill, he arrived as late as possible and left as early as possible, speaking to no one he didn’t absolutely have to speak to, not even May.
Georgie, on the other hand, was in great spirits, constantly at Missy’s side.
‘Missy is sixteen in October,’ Ducky said, seeking May out as she always did at family get-togethers. ‘I’ve never seen anyone so optimistically heading towards calamitous disappointment as Georgie. Even if Missy was interested in him as prospective husband material – which she isn’t – Mama would never agree to her marrying him. She has no high opinion of any of Pa’s side of the family. The only comfort she’s ever taken from marrying into it is that, being the only daughter of a tsar, she outranks so many of Granny Queen’s brood and has jewels even more fabulous than theirs. I think I’m going to shock everyone now by lighting up a cigarette in public. They’re Sobranie Black Russians. Do you want one?’
May had been smoking ever since her father had introduced her to the habit when she’d been eighteen, but she had no intention of smoking in public.
‘No thanks, Ducky,’ she said as Ducky lit up with practised ease. ‘So who is it your mother has eyes on, as a prospective husband for Missy?’
‘Anyone who is Russian will do, Cousin Nicky preferably, for then Missy will one day be an empress. However, Ma says there’s little chance of her marrying Nicky, as Russian royals aren’t allowed to marry first cousins. She does have someone else up her sleeve though. Nando Hohenzollern. If Missy marries Nando, she’ll be Queen of Romania when his uncle, King Carol dies, and for some reason the thought quite pleases Ma.’
The wedding went off without a hitch. Eight bridesmaids followed Marie-Louise down the aisle – none of them a day older than her. Granny Queen wore her habitual black bombazine and if she was miffed that the groom wasn’t one of her choosing, she didn’t allow any displeasure to show. As always when Willy was in her company, she made a great fuss of him, for although his behaviour often caused him to be in her bad books – and he’d been in them for several days, when she had been told of the part he had played in Marie-Louise and Aribert’s engagement – he was also her firstborn grandchild and, to lots of people’s irritation, she was never displeased with him for long.
Willy and Dona were combining their presence at the wedding with a state visit. Since he’d become Kaiser, there was always tension where Willy’s visits to England were concerned, for his mood and temper could never be counted on. He was either full of hearty bonhomie or explosive indignation at some imagined slight. He always thought he knew everything, and whereas his ministers rarely summoned up the nerve to tell him he was often wrong – and his wife never did – his family weren’t so intimidated. And when they weren’t, sparks flew.
On this visit, taking centre-stage as the person responsible for the matchmaking that had resulted in the wedding, and having enjoyed enthusiastic cheers and shouts of ‘Good Old Willy!’ and ‘God bless the Kaiser!’ on his carriage rides through London’s flag-bedecked streets, Willy, to his family’s relief, was full of goodwill to all men.
On the evening of the wedding, when the dancing began, Willy came up to May and said, ‘I’d like the chance of a private word about the Ernst Gunther debacle, and the only way of managing one is if we take to the floor.’
In a state of high tension, May allowed him to lead her out onto the floor. For a man who only had the use of his right arm, Willy was a surprisingly good dancer and, as he skilfully ensured they were always as far away from other dancers as it was possible to get, he said, ‘Lord knows that, for your own sake, I didn’t want to see you married to my Dummkopf of a brother-in-law, May, but by refusing his proposal, you caused me to be at the receiving end of huge domestic tantrums.’
‘Why on earth?’ It wasn’t at all what she had been expecting and she almost missed a step as they negotiated a far corner of the ballroom.
‘Because of you not being ebenbürtig.’
‘But I didn’t accept Ernst Gunther’s proposal! Surely Dona should have been pleased that I wasn’t going to become her sister-in-law, not having tantrums about it.’
Willy snorted with laughter. ‘But don’t you see, May? Dona’s indignation was caused by someone not of equal birth receiving a marriage proposal from her precious brother and then having the effrontery to turn him down. God in heaven! I thought the insult was going to be the death of her!’
May didn’t share his amusement. As far as she was concerned, it was Dona’s response to her having rejected Ernst Gunther’s proposal that was the real insult.
‘Truth to tell, Kindred Spirit May,’ Willy continued, ‘Dona may be a good woman, but she is also a very difficult one. No one knows what I have to put up with. My dear friend, Phili zu Eulenburg, thinks me a saint.’
May was tempted to respond that Phili zu Eulenburg was the only person in the world who could possibly think so, but thought better of it.
Twelve years ago on the beach at Osborne, she, Willy and Alicky had shared confidences about their feelings of never truly fitting into the family, and they had done so in a way they had never done with anyone previously or, she was certain, since.
Alicky had declared that their conversation that afternoon had made them Kindred Spirits, a fact sealed by the blood-pact they had made. The surprising results of her childish play-acting had been a long-standing friendship between her and Alicky, and whenever she met up with Willy – which was far more rarely – he always referred to her as ‘Kindred Spirit May’ and was as informal with her as he had been that day at Osborne. She never forgot, though, that he was the German Emperor, and that liberties with his dignity would end their friendship in a flash.
His last words as the music
came to an end were, ‘Nicky Romanov wants to marry Alicky. It’s a match I’m in favour of. I’d like the future Empress of Russia to be a German. However, Nicky’s parents aren’t in favour of it and are doing all they can to take his mind off her. The latest distraction they have put in his path is Mathilde Kschessinska, a ballerina with the Russian Imperial Ballet.’
Alicky’s letter to May that July contained no reference to Mathilde Kschessinska, but even though it was now two years since Alicky’s last meeting with Nicky in St Petersburg, her letters were still full of how frequently he wrote to her, and of how certain she was that they were destined for each other.
Eddy’s Hussar regiment was now stationed in Dublin and, after several months’ official leave, he left England in August to resume his military duties in Ireland. Looloo, Toria, Maudie and May all missed him, but only May was unable to voice quite how much.
In September, May’s industrious round of charity work continued. She organized the sorting of several hundred items being sent in to the Needlework Guild and arranged for their distribution. She made weekly visits to hospitals and orphanages, and she helped out on an almost daily basis at the many soup kitchens that her mother sponsored. On top of that, she also continued acting as her mother’s lady-in-waiting, accompanying her to an industrial exhibition in the East End that Princess Mary Adelaide opened; to a function at Finsbury in aid of factory girls; and to a concert given in order to raise money for soldiers’ widows.
In October, May and her mother spent a few days with her mother’s close friend, Lady Wolverton, whose home, Coombe Wood, was at Kingston-on-Thames and near enough to White Lodge that travelling to it was no hardship, and yet far enough away to make a pleasant change.
Sitting around the breakfast table, making plans for the day, they were interrupted by Lady Wolverton’s butler. ‘Forgive the interruption, Your Ladyship,’ he said apologetically, ‘but a letter from the Queen has just this minute arrived from Balmoral for Her Highness Princess Mary Adelaide.’
‘A letter for me?’ May’s mother’s knife and fork fell with an unladylike clatter onto her plate. ‘From Balmoral?’
That the Queen had written to her at Coombe Wood, instead of waiting until she was again at home at White Lodge, indicated that the letter’s contents were of unusual importance, and she practically snatched the letter from the butler’s tray.
Within seconds of opening it, a hot flush flooded her cheeks and she pressed a hand to where, beneath a mountain of flesh, she assumed her heart to be. ‘Oh, my goodness, May! The Queen is asking that Dolly accompany you on a ten-day visit to Balmoral. For a private visit!’
It was such an unlikely request that May’s immediate reaction was bewilderment. Informal family get-togethers took place at Osborne House. More formal get-togethers took place at Windsor. No get-togethers of any kind took place at Balmoral. When the Queen was in residence there – which she was every year from late summer to early winter – she kept very much to herself. Invitations for family to join her at Balmoral were virtually unheard of.
She was suddenly gripped by the fear that the only possible reason for the invitation was that the Queen was angry at her having rejected Prince Ernst Gunther’s marriage proposal and wished to see her, to tell her how foolishly she believed May had behaved.
‘What reason is given for the invitation, Mama?’ Knots of tension had formed in the pit of her stomach. ‘There must be one. Is it about the marriage proposal I turned down?’
‘Goodness, no! She says only that she would like to get to know you a little better. This could be the beginning of Aunt Queen taking a much greater interest in you, May – something I have been hoping for, for a long time. I must write and accept, without a moment’s delay. Do you think my not being asked to accompany you and Dolly was just a little forgetfulness? Perhaps I should include a delicate reminder about the omission?’
‘If Aunt Queen didn’t include Mama in the invite she sent, it was because she had no wish for Mama to accompany us,’ Dolly said when, back home at White Lodge, May had been able to talk to him about the oddity of the invitation. ‘It’s true that invites to Balmoral are as rare as gold dust, but there was a time when Alicky was invited there quite often.’
‘That was when Aunt Queen was trying to bring about a marriage between Alicky and Eddy.’
‘Perhaps your having received a marriage proposal from Ernst Gunther – and having turned it down – has brought home to Aunt Queen that if she wants to continue her passion for matchmaking, her next project should be finding a husband for you?’
‘But is she likely even to attempt that, when I’m not of equal birth? Perhaps she is simply going to say that I had an opportunity to marry and that, as another opportunity is unlikely to come my way, I should resign myself to spinsterhood and make the best of it.’
‘And if that’s the case?’
‘Then it will be the perfect opportunity for me to tell her that, since Ernst Gunther’s unwelcome marriage proposal, I have given a great deal of thought about my future and I have decided to do something I have longed to do for a long, long time.’ There was a determined set to her chin and her eyes had narrowed in deadly seriousness.
‘And what is that?’ Dolly asked, hoping to goodness that she wasn’t thinking of entering a convent.
‘I’m going to live in Florence. The friends I still have there – friends like Belinda Light – will make me very welcome. And in Florence no one will speak the hateful ebenbürtig word to me ever again.’
Chapter Nineteen
JUNE 1891, NEUES PALAIS, POTSDAM
Willy returned home from his state visit deeply disgruntled. Visits to his English family always unsettled him. One half of him – the English half – longed with fevered intensity to be accepted by his English relations as if, as well as having an English mother, he had been born there. The other half of him – the Prussian half – wanted nothing more than to hammer home to them how superior and powerful he, and the country of which he was Emperor, was.
He was, after all, far more powerful than his grandmother. She had to pay heed to her ministers. Since the day he had been proclaimed Emperor, Willy had never paid heed to anyone. Not even to Bismarck, a statesman the world held in deep respect and whom, with a click of his fingers, Willy had sacked when the Chancellor had overstepped the mark by insisting that Willy pursue a policy he was opposed to. Since then everyone in a high ministerial position had been recommended to him by Phili, and none of them had ever taken such an unforgivable liberty.
None of them, however, felt about England as he did. Damn it all, he loved England. His earliest memory was of being a toddler at Osborne and of being swung in a napkin by his grandfather, Prince Albert.
If only Albert hadn’t died when he had still been a child, what a team they would have become! His German grandfather would have understood him. He would have made sure that his English family gave Willy the love and respect he deserved. And more than anything else, love and respect was what he craved from his English relations. His grandmother loved him of course, as he did her, but she didn’t show respect to him, by coming to him for political advice. And there were times when he felt she was sorely in need of such advice. On one recent occasion, when a French admiral had been a guest at Buckingham Palace, the band had played the ‘Marseillaise’. To his absolute horror, as this most incendiary hymn to revolution and the overthrowing of kings and emperors was being played, his grandmother had not only risen respectfully to her feet, but had remained standing throughout it! Even the memory was enough to make Willy shudder.
Republican France had never been a friend of Germany’s, and the last thing he wanted was England forming an alliance with France or, for that matter, forming an alliance with any country other than his own. It had to be England and Germany or – as Germany already had a triple alliance with Austria–Hungary and Italy – it had to be England, Germany, Austria–Hungary and Italy. It was something he didn’t have a single doubt about.
Any cosying up of England to France smacked of disloyalty, and yet Uncle Bertie – England’s next king – spent more time in France than he did in England.
At the thought of Bertie, Willie struggled not to hurl the first precious object that came to hand against a wall. His forty-nine-year-old uncle was too urbane, too sure of himself, too easy in his own skin. He could charm the birds off the trees – and anyone he wanted into his bed. Willie loathed him.
He didn’t loathe Eddy and Georgie, for neither of them took after their father, in terms of personality. Although one trait Eddy did share with his father was being effortlessly charming and attractive to the opposite sex. Other than that, Eddy was too lacking in the kind of dominant forcefulness that, in Willy’s estimation, any heir to a throne should have.
As for Georgie . . . He could be peppery-tempered, although he’d more sense than to be so with Willy, and on a recent occasion he had magnanimously awarded Georgie the Order of the Black Eagle, the highest order of chivalry that Prussia possessed. The trouble with Georgie was that he was dim and had no intellectual interests. All he was interested in was shooting and stamp-collecting. Willy was anything but dim, and he had a passion for all kinds of technological advances. A German designer and engineer had recently discussed with him his vision of a petrol-engine airship. Willy hadn’t been able to get the prospect of such a glorious machine out of his head and had enthusiastically begun showing drawings of the proposed airship to Georgie. Even for politeness’s sake, Georgie hadn’t shown the slightest flicker of interest.
On many of his trips to England – visits that were merely family ones – Dona didn’t accompany him. Nothing about England appealed to her and, for Dona, their state visit to England had been a duty, not a pleasure.
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