But I just didn’t have the nerve, not when Aunt Queen had given lots of hints that my reason for being at Balmoral was so she could assess my suitability for whatever matchmaking plan she may be hatching. As it is, I have decided I have no wish to be party to an arranged marriage, for so few of them ever end happily.
A little while later she began another letter, this time to Belinda Light, telling her of how she was thinking of returning to Florence with a chaperone-companion. She also asked if there was any likelihood of Belinda’s aunt being able to make I Cedri available to her, if she was to do so, and she added:
Please tell your aunt that all this is in the strictest confidence, for as yet no one but you and Dolly is aware of my plans.
For the next couple of weeks, acting as her mother’s lady-in-waiting and secretary, May was grateful to be kept so busy. There was no reply from Belinda, but it was too soon to reasonably expect one. Neither was there any gossip to indicate Max of Baden was about to return to England and attend to what Christian had described as his ‘unfinished business’.
What that unfinished business was no longer interested May, for she had made up her mind that if Max ever did propose to her, she was going to treat his proposal in exactly the same way as she had treated Prince Ernst’s proposal. She was not going to accept it. How could she, when she felt about Eddy as she did? Her other resolution was that once the coming new year got into its stride, she was going to tell her parents what her plans were and, despite the avalanche of objections she knew she would meet, she was determined to go ahead with them.
Alicky’s reply to her letter came quickly:
Dear Kindred Spirit,
I think you should think again, where Max of Baden is concerned. He is extremely eligible and is the number-one hope of lots of European princesses, so if it is Max that Granny Queen has in mind for you, don’t reject him without seeing him, as you could well be making a very big mistake.
As for me, it is all horribly tragic, for Nicky’s parents are absolutely opposed to his marrying me. They say I do not have the right qualities to be Russia’s future Tsarina and want him to propose to Hélène of Orleans, who is still, as we know, desperately in love with Eddy. Nicky, of course, is going to do no such thing, but that isn’t the worst of it. The worst of it is that even if his parents changed their mind and gave their permission for him to marry me, I WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO DO SO, for although Ella was able to marry Sergei without changing her religion from Lutheran to Russian Orthodox, it was only because Sergei isn’t top of the list in the Romanov line of succession. Nicky, of course, is. To marry him, I would have to renege on all the solemn vows I made when I was confirmed in the Lutheran Church and convert to Russian Orthodoxy – AND BECAUSE OF MY PROMISE TO MY LATE MAMA, THAT IS SOMETHING MY CONSCIENCE WILL ABSOLUTELY NOT ALLOW ME TO DO! Poor Nicky is heartbroken and I am heartbroken, for truly, May, Nicky is the other half of my soul.
Your unutterably wretched Kindred Spirit, Alicky
PS: Kindred Spirit Willy has just announced that he has made occult contact with the spirit of Frederick the Great. I believe him, for the spirit world is all around us, although it is only a privileged few who can make contact with it. Ernie says Willy is certifiable, but I don’t think he is, for, as you know, I too often feel guided by unseen powers.
It was a letter that troubled May, as she had become aware that Alicky’s religious zeal had begun verging on the extreme, and she found the way Alicky talked of being guided by unseen powers unhealthy and deeply unsettling.
At the end of November, May and her parents were invited to a house party at Luton Hoo, in Bedfordshire. Their host was Christian de Falbe, the Danish Minister at the Court of St James’s, and as Aunt Alix was Danish, a close family friendship had sprung up between the de Falbes and the Prince and Princess of Wales. It meant that some members of the Wales family were bound to be at Luton Hoo, although not Georgie, who was at Sandringham recovering from typhoid; and not Eddy, who was now stationed at the Hussar barracks in York.
May enjoyed house parties. There would be twenty or thirty fellow guests and, as it was winter, there would be shooting for the men in Luton Hoo’s acres of private woodland and companionable walks for the ladies in parkland and gardens designed by Capability Brown. In the afternoon there would be charades and whist and other card games and, for the more daring, the never out-of-date fun of sliding down a magnificent staircase on a tea-tray. Best of all, in the evening there would be dancing.
The first person she ran into, even before she had reached the bedroom she had been allocated, was Maudie.
‘Goody,’ Maudie hugged her tight, ‘I was hoping you would be here. Let’s find a quiet corner and have a glass of champagne and a chat. I want to hear all about your invite to Balmoral. What was it all about? When Toria heard Granny Queen had invited you there for ten days and that no one else had been invited, apart from Dolly, she was so jealous she practically spat nails.’
Once they had found a quiet corner, May said, ‘I have no more idea than you have, Maudie, as to why I was invited. There were times when I thought I was there to be given one of Granny Queen’s matchmaking chats, but no name was ever mentioned, and now I think I was reading too much into things. I think she was just a little lonely and wanted someone with whom she could reminisce about your dear departed Grandpa Albert. I heard all about how she had fallen in love with him at first sight and, on the day she took me to his memorial cairn, how she is looking forward to being with him again after she dies. All in all, it was a bizarre few days.’
‘Well, if that was it, I’m crushed with disappointment. Someone else who is crushed with disappointment is Georgie. In October he finally made his long-planned-for proposal to Missy – and she turned him down! And what she said when she did so is a corker, for she told him they could still be chums. Chums! It’s an expression I must remember, if I ever find myself in a similar position. Rumour is that Aunt Marie has long had Nando Hohenzollern in mind as a husband for her daughter, and at the thought of Nando being preferred over Georgie, Mama and Papa are so livid that they are no longer on speaking terms with any of the Edinburghs. Not that Aunt Marie will care. Being Russian, she enjoys emotional fireworks.’
She paused for breath, and then said, ‘Jollier news is that the de Falbes are patrons of the County Ball and it is being held here tomorrow night. Because he has typhoid, poor Georgie is going to miss out on it, but Eddy isn’t. He will be arriving later today. Have you heard that Marie-Louise’s marriage to Aribert is a disaster? Georgie says it’s not surprising, seeing as how Aribert is a pansy. I’ve never really understood about pansies, have you? What is it they do? No one will tell me. Not even Georgie.’
May didn’t know, either, and at the moment her curiosity about it was nil. All she could think of was that within hours she would see Eddy again and that, as there was to be a full-scale ball tomorrow evening, he would almost certainly dance with her, even if only out of good manners.
It was late afternoon when Eddy arrived. Seeing May across a crowded room, he gave her an acknowledging nod and then, dashingly handsome in his Hussar uniform, strolled off in the direction of the billiard room in the company of Christle, Marie-Louise’s brother.
Nothing could have shown her more plainly that, with his battle to marry Hélène over, she was of no further interest to him and, to her horror, tears stung the backs of her eyes. Appalled and aware that she needed privacy fast, May walked swiftly out of the room, heading in the direction of the conservatory. It was a pretty place, full of hothouse flowers and potted palms and twittering birds in wicker cages.
With hot tears glittering on her eyelashes, she sat down beneath a palm tree in one of the conservatory’s many cane chairs, telling herself she was a complete fool. Twenty-four was far too old to be still in the throes of a first crush, especially when it was such a hopeless one. All she could be thankful for was that no one knew about it, not even Maudie.
Why, she asked herself, should s
he have hoped that Eddy would immediately seek her out? It had been idiotic of her. What she had to do was accept the situation as it was – and the sooner she did so, the better.
Only after she had smoked three cigarettes did she return to the drawing room, looking so perfectly composed that no one could have guessed how her pleasure in the weekend had ended the moment Eddy had barely acknowledged her and then turned his back on her.
The next day she didn’t accompany the shooters, for she disliked seeing birds shot for sport, but, accompanied by Maudie and several other female guests, she did join them for lunch. If Eddy was aware of her presence, he showed no sign of it and she told herself she was beginning not to care.
Her determination not to care didn’t, though, prevent her from taking extra time over her toilette that evening. Maudie had opted to get ready for the ball with her, rather than doing so in the room she was sharing with Toria. As their maids fussed around them, lacing up whaleboned corsets to give them fashionable hourglass figures, Maudie said, ‘Toria is unbearable these days. A few years ago she was always talking about the day when she would be a queen and now, with Motherdear insisting it is Toria’s duty to remain at home with her, that day is growing less and less likely. Toria is now so desperate that if only Motherdear would agree to it, I’m sure she would settle for marriage to a member of the aristocracy, as Looloo did. And you remember how scathing Toria was when Looloo accepted Fife’s non-royal proposal.’
May did remember. Toria’s unkind tongue was the reason she never sought her company.
Twenty minutes later they were both securely fastened into their ballgowns. May’s had been made in Paris and was one her mother had insisted on buying, even though the cost had been astronomical. Looking at herself in the mirror, May was, for once, glad of her mother’s recklessness with money. The gown, made of rose-pink silk, was beautiful and made her look beautiful too, instead of just passably pretty. The heavily beaded bodice had a low neckline that showed the creamy rise of her breasts; the sleeves were short and flamboyantly puffed; her hand-span waist was emphasized by a wide sash; and the shimmering skirt fell into a train edged in luscious double ruffles.
‘You look spectacular, May,’ Maudie said truthfully, pulling on elbow-high white kid evening gloves. ‘When you walk into the ballroom you’re going to be the centre of attention.’
May only wanted to see admiring attention in one pair of eyes – Eddy’s. She had, though, no intention of telling Maudie that.
Picking up her evening bag, she took one last look in the mirror. Her wheat-gold hair with its hints of auburn was worn as she always wore it: pulled back high and close to her head in tight waves, and with a low fringe of small, crisp curls that Toria had once said made her look like a poodle. Whether it did or not, it was a style that both suited her and was distinctive, and that was what mattered.
Satisfied that she had made the very best of her appearance, she followed Maudie out of the bedroom. As they headed in the direction of Luton Hoo’s main staircase – and despite all her intentions that, where Eddy was concerned, she was never going to allow it to happen again – her body began betraying her, her heart pounding in her chest.
As the ball wasn’t a normal house-party ball, but a County Ball, the ballroom was even more extravagantly decorated than usual and, instead of a band, there was a small orchestra.
For the next hour May danced with a wide selection of partners, always aware of the person with whom Eddy was dancing.
Breathless after a polka danced with Christle, she had just decided to catch her breath by sitting out the next dance, when Eddy finally began walking towards her.
Swiftly she looked down, smoothing an evening glove that didn’t need smoothing, for what if she was mistaken and he wasn’t heading towards her, but towards someone else? How humiliating if she had happy anticipation on her face, and he walked right past her.
He didn’t. Stopping in front of her, he said with disturbing seriousness, ‘I’d like to talk to you, May.’
It wasn’t the invitation to dance she had been expecting. Fighting a crushing disappointment she said, certain of his answer, ‘About Hélène?’
‘Yes.’ He looked deeply unhappy. ‘About Hélène.’
She rose to her feet and, as the orchestra began playing a waltz, followed him from the ballroom, expecting him to come to a halt in the corridor leading away from it. Instead he led her up to the first floor, opening the door of a small sitting room. It was a woman’s room, filled with vases of flowers and mirrors and delicate china ornaments. There was a fire in the grate and the room’s purple-velvet curtains were drawn.
He said, ‘This is Madame de Falbe’s boudoir. She has given permission for me to speak with you here.’
May’s throat tightened in something close to panic. What on earth was he about to say that had to be said in such privacy? Had he decided to relinquish his rights to the throne and turn Catholic, in order to marry Hélène? Had Hélène’s parents arranged for her to marry someone else, and had she agreed to do so?
Eddy’s gold-flecked eyes held hers. ‘You do know how very much I love Hélène, don’t you, May? And that I will never, ever be able to love anyone else?’
‘Of course I do. And I know how much she loves you. What is it? What has happened? Had the two of you been given fresh hope, and has it come to nothing?’
‘There has never been fresh hope. Worse, I’ve been told by Granny Queen that I can’t fudge the issue of marriage any longer. Unless I take matters into my own hands, she will be announcing my engagement to Mossy at the end of the month.’ He hesitated and then said, ‘Do you remember how, five years or so ago at Marlborough House, I told you about the Queen’s list of possible brides for me? It was the first really personal conversation we ever had and was, I think, the start of what I like to think has become friendship – and you have been just as good a friend to Hélène as you have been to me.’
The fire crackled and spat. Eddy cleared his throat. ‘And so it occurred to me, May, that it would be much better for me to marry someone I like, and someone who is a friend, than it would be for me to marry someone who would never understand about my love for Hélène. And so I have brought you here to ask if you will marry me.’ He dropped down on one knee in front of her. ‘Will you, May? Believe me when I say I’d be most awfully grateful if you would.’
The blood drummed in her ears. Her heart slammed against her chest. The ground felt as if it was slipping away beneath her feet. Was it a cruel joke? The kind of joke his father was so infamous for playing? The kind of practical joke Georgie had played so often on her, when they had been children? Were fellow guests now on the other side of the door, about to fall into helpless giggles if May Teck – a Serene Highness not royal enough to marry a royal – made a fool of herself by taking his proposal of marriage seriously?
Time stood still as she waited for him to realize that she had seen through the ruse, her disappointment in him for being a party to it so deep that she didn’t know how she was going to come to terms with it.
But he didn’t rise to his feet, saying, ‘Sorry, May. You’ve seen through the joke.’
He remained where he was, in front of her and on one knee.
‘Please, May.’ There was an emotional break in his voice. ‘If you don’t accept me, I shall have no alternative but to marry Mossy. The Prime Minister believes there could be no better match dynastically than a future Queen of England who is also the Kaiser’s sister. But nice though Mossy is, she isn’t what I want. She would depend on me too much, and I need someone that I can depend on. That person used to be Georgie, but Georgie is nearly always on the far side of the world these days and, to tell the brutal truth, I’m not such great shakes, left to my own devices. I’m always on the brink of getting into trouble. I need a wife whose views I respect, who will keep me on the straight and narrow, and with whom I can share my anxieties. In short, I need you, May. Please don’t turn me down.’
It had bee
n a long speech and during it, although blood was still drumming in May’s ears and her heart was still slamming against her chest, the reasons for their doing so had changed dramatically.
He was serious. Eddy, Duke of Clarence and Avondale, heir presumptive to the most powerful throne in the world, was asking her to marry him. If she accepted him, she would not only be marrying someone she was certain she could be happy with, but she would be ensuring her family’s future financial stability. On marriage, she would become a royal duchess. When Aunt Queen died and Eddy’s father became King, Eddy would inherit the title Prince of Wales and she would be the Princess of Wales. And when Eddy’s father died, Eddy would be King of the United Kingdom and Emperor of India. And she would be his Queen and Empress.
It was all too much to take in: too swift, too sudden.
And had Eddy forgotten that she wasn’t 100 per cent royal?
She said through dry lips, ‘The Queen and her prime minister will never agree to it. My paternal grandparents’ marriage was morganatic. I’m a Serene Highness, not a Royal Highness. I don’t know of a Serene Highness who has married the heir to a throne. It’s something Aunt Queen and the Prime Minister are simply never going to allow.’
‘But that is where you are wrong, May! I’m proposing to you with the consent of both of them. It is why Granny Queen invited you to Balmoral. She wanted to make quite sure I had made the right decision and, as I do, she thinks you are an exceptional girl and is willing to overlook your Serene status. She would like our engagement to be announced as soon as possible and for us to be married at Easter. So please, please, May. Will you marry me?’
The moment was so fantastical that she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. She wanted to shout from Luton Hoo’s rooftops, ‘Yes, Eddy! Nothing would make me happier than to marry you. It’s all I’ve ever, ever wanted.’ But he wasn’t asking her to marry him because he was in love with her, and such a shamelessly enthusiastic response would be embarrassingly inappropriate.
The Summer Queen Page 22
