‘After a lifetime of having no choice but to do things I have no liking for, such as being at sea for years on end, this is something I know in my bones I will be able to do well. Or at least I will be able to do it well with your help, because as well as all the socializing that goes with being a viceroy, the position also needs organizational skills, which is something I struggle with. However, I know you are ace at that kind of thing. Motherdear is always saying how you manage all the paperwork involved with your mother’s charities, and how you write all the reports and often chair committee meetings.’
May was about to protest that the work she did for the Needlework Guild was hardly preparation for organizing the workload of a viceroy, but before she could do so, he continued, ‘As Viceroy and Vicereine, we’ll make a splendid team, May; and in a vicereine’s robes and coronet you are going to look superb. And so what do you think? Isn’t it just the most staggering news?’
It certainly was. May’s head was spinning. Four weeks ago her future had been so bleak that she had been planning to leave England for Florence and embark on a life completely outside the royal circle. Now, she would not only be Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Clarence and Avondale, and a future Queen of England and Empress of India, but she had the prospect of being Vicereine of Ireland to look forward to. It was a dizzying thought.
Another soon followed. The Irish Sea conveniently separated Dublin Castle from Marlborough House, Sandringham and her future mother-in-law. Until now she had always regarded her Aunt Alix with affection, but that had been before she had witnessed how unnaturally possessive she could be with Eddy. The sea would ensure it was a possessiveness that she wouldn’t have to endure too often.
‘It’s wonderful news, Eddy.’ She squeezed his hands tightly. ‘I’ve never been happier. Not ever!’
Sliding his hands around her waist, he kissed her with passionate gratitude, knowing the only reason he wasn’t utterly daunted at the prospect of becoming a viceroy was because, when he did, May would be at his side. And with May at his side, he knew he would not only have a loving wife, but a friend who would always be there for him and would never let him down.
When they left the library and entered a drawing room thronged with New Year guests, Georgie immediately sought her out for a private word. It was their first meeting since his recovery from typhoid, and his usual ruddy complexion was pale.
‘Can’t begin to tell you how happy I am, May, that you will soon be my sister-in-law. Granny Queen has plagued Eddy for years about the necessity of marrying. Although he quite rightly has always held out not to marry someone he didn’t feel he could genuinely learn to love. How long till the wedding? Six weeks? Seven? It doesn’t matter. Either way I’ll be fully fit by the twenty-seventh of February and will make a quite presentable best man.’
‘That’s a huge relief, Georgie.’ May hugged him. ‘It’s impossible to imagine our wedding with anyone else as best man.’
‘And equally impossible to imagine my ever needing a best man.’ As well as looking pale and weak, Georgie looked distinctly glum. ‘Not that my getting married has the same urgency as it’s had for Eddy.’
Despite having known him all her life, May could only remember having had one personal conversation with Georgie, and that had been when he had told her of wanting to marry Julie Stoner, the daughter of his mother’s lady-in-waiting, and of his distress at being unable to do so. As a child and a young adult she had been in the habit of avoiding him, as Georgie took after his father in his love of playing unkind jokes on people. Once, when she had been eight and reading a book, he had dropped a mouse into her lap; and when she had been fourteen and proudly wearing a new dress to an afternoon party in Windsor Castle’s gardens, he had squirted her with dirty water from a bicycle pump.
Putting such memories behind her and seeing how despondent he was, she said, trying to cheer him up, ‘Of course you will be married before too long, and of course Eddy will be your best man. You’re third in line to the throne, and that makes you very eligible.’
Georgie didn’t look remotely cheered. ‘It didn’t make me very eligible in Aunt Marie’s eyes. Or Missy’s. Aunt Marie reacted as if I was a baker’s boy, when I asked for Missy’s hand in marriage. And Missy didn’t attempt to change her mother’s mind. She simply told me she was about to become officially engaged to that long streak of uselessness, Nando Hohenzollern. I thought she felt about me the way I felt about her, but she obviously never did. And that’s the trouble with girls, Cousin May. A fellow can’t possibly tell what’s going on in their heads. They give you encouragement and then make you look an utter ass, when you mistakenly think they feel the same way about you as you do about them.’
‘Not all girls, Georgie. That wasn’t the case with Julie. You didn’t read Julie wrongly.’
‘No.’ She was appalled to see his eyes glitter with unshed tears. ‘Did you know that my darling Julie married last year?’
She shook her head.
‘Her husband is French. Julie is now the Marquise d’Hautpoul de Seyre and all I can do is hope she’ll be happy, because I can’t bear the thought of her not being so. And although I did think I could have made a go of it with Missy, I doubt I’ll ever bother trying to do so with anyone else. As far as I’m concerned, romance is overrated. But I’m glad for you and Eddy. I didn’t think he’d ever be truly happy, after being unable to marry Hélène, but since his engagement to you he clearly is.’
That evening a dance was held in Sandringham’s ballroom. As well as members of the family staying as guests, there were lots of Bertie’s and Alix’s non-royal friends staying in the house. They were the only members of the family to have such friendships, for Bertie liked mixing with bankers and members of the government and diplomats, and it always gave invitations to Sandringham an interesting and exciting edge.
Later, in her diary, May wrote:
I don’t believe any young woman in the entire history of the world has ever been as happy as I am now – and it’s all thanks to darling Eddy and the wonderful life we are about to embark on together. As we said goodnight to each other, he gave me the white camellia he had been wearing in his buttonhole, and I am going to press it within this page so that it will be a reminder of this glorious evening for ever more.
And before she did so, she pressed the flower tenderly to her lips.
In the morning, as they sat side by side at a large desk, writing letters expressing gratitude for congratulations and gifts, Eddy suddenly said, ‘A few weeks ago I would have regarded this as tedious, but doing it together is fun. When we move into Dublin Castle I’m going to arrange that our writing desks are in the same room and next to each other. Then we can always attend to our paperwork side by side, just as Granny Queen and Grandpa Albert did.’
His mention of Dublin Castle sent a delighted shiver of anticipation down May’s spine. It was still a secret, with only the Queen, the Prime Minister, Eddy’s father and themselves in the know.
‘And that is the way it has to stay, until after the wedding and until everything is ratified,’ her future father-in-law had said to her. ‘I can’t tell you how pleased I am, May, at the change in Eddy, now that he has you by his side.’
It was typical of the way the Prince of Wales habitually spoke of Eddy, and May was irritated, for she found it belittling and unfair. She was just wondering how, without damaging her new-found relationship with him, she could tell him so, when he said, ‘And you mustn’t let Lenchen’s and Vicky’s rude remarks about your engagement to Eddy and the unsuitability of it – as you are a Serene and not a Royal – distress you. They both have unmarried daughters, and Lenchen would have liked to see Thora as Eddy’s bride, and Vicky would have liked to have seen Mossy as his bride. Their disappointment is something they’ll soon get over. You can rest assured that, by the time of your wedding, their attitudes will have changed.’
May hoped he was right. Until now she had been totally unaware of Aunt Lenchen’s and Aunt Vicky’s feelings. Aun
t Vicky didn’t matter too much as May rarely met up with her and, knowing of the dead-hare and iron-machine cruelties she had put Willy through when he’d been a small child, she had never had any desire to know her any better. Aunt Lenchen, however, was another matter, for May was very fond of her; and that her affection was not at the moment being returned hurt her.
Later in the day Looloo and Fife arrived to join the birthday guests.
‘Although I was very doubtful about doing so, when I learned how influenza is rampaging through the house,’ Looloo said nervously to May. ‘I haven’t visited Toria and Maudie’s sickbeds, as I don’t want to catch it from them. You don’t feel unwell, do you, May?’
‘No,’ May said, fighting down the temptation to pretend to sneeze.
That evening a skating party was held on Sandringham’s frozen lake. The lake and the little island in the centre were lit by coloured lamps and by the flickering flames from dozens of burning torches. There was much hilarity as girls were sent skidding and shrieking across the lake’s glitteringly hard surface on skating chairs – fun that even the Princess of Wales took part in. Scalding-hot baked potatoes were passed round, as were hot toddies of port and lemon, dusted with nutmeg. The only person who didn’t take to the ice was the Prince of Wales, who stood on the hard-packed snow in a beaver-collared overcoat, puffing on a cigar and bellowing with laughter when anyone lost their balance and went slithering on their bottom across the ice.
May found skimming across the ice at night with Eddy’s arm firmly around her waist even more romantic than waltzing with him, as there were areas on the lake that the lamps didn’t reach and, whenever they skated into darkness, he immediately took advantage of it by dropping kisses on to the top of her head.
Her rapture in the evening was marred when his mother tucked her hand through Eddy’s free arm, even though Eddy still had the other arm around May’s waist, saying, ‘The party may be far from over, but I’ve had enough of skating for one evening. Escort me indoors, if you will, Eddy darling.’
Eddy shot May an apologetic look and, suppressing a sigh, she removed her arm from his.
As Eddy and his mother disappeared into the band of darkness that lay between the lamplit lake and the house, Looloo said, ‘I doubt you will see Eddy again this evening, May. Motherdear will want him to stay with her and have a game of bezique. Her possessiveness, where Eddy is concerned, is something you will have to get used to. We have had to.’
‘We?’
‘Toria, Maudie and I. Not Georgie. Motherdear is nearly as possessive about Georgie as she is about Eddy. Her possessiveness is why you will be living at Sandringham after your marriage. Motherdear doesn’t intend your marriage to cause the slightest change in her relationship with Eddy.’
May’s gloved fingers dug deep into her palms. If that was Motherdear’s vision of the future, she was going to be disappointed, for thanks to Aunt Queen and the Prime Minister, she and Eddy wouldn’t be living at Sandringham when they married; instead they would be far away across the Irish Sea, in Dublin.
The next morning was spent in the billiard room with Eddy, Dolly, Alge and Christle.
‘You won’t be too bored, will you, sweetheart?’ Eddy asked, when telling May of his plans for the day and assuming she would be a spectator.
‘No, but we’re going to be an odd number, aren’t we? If we play each other, and Dolly and Alge play each other, who will Christle play?’
He chuckled. ‘Billiards isn’t a card game, May. It isn’t a game for ladies.’
May had been playing billiards since childhood with Dolly and Frank, and she opened her eyes wide and said in feigned innocence, ‘Oh, but I would love to give it a try. Please say I can.’
‘All right.’ He smiled down at her indulgently. ‘Before we men start playing, I don’t see why you shouldn’t pot a few balls if it will amuse you.’
When they gathered in the billiard room Eddy announced, ‘May wants to try her hand at potting a few balls.’ Alge’s eyebrows rose and he was about to protest that May didn’t need to ‘try her hand’ when Dolly dug him hard in the ribs. Handing May a cue and joining in the joke, he said, ‘The table is all set up, Sis. Do your best. It isn’t as easy as it looks.’
At the thought of a woman trying to come to grips with a billiard cue, Christle folded his arms and prayed for patience. Eddy stood at the head of the billiard table, in case he needed to give May a little help.
May chalked the end of her cue and then, appearing a little nervous, hesitated about where to set the cue ball on the table.
Eddy positioned it for her. Then, as she lined her cue up for a shot, he said helpfully, ‘You need to break up the triangle of red balls at the far end of the table, but try not to hit the pink ball at the top of the triangle or you’ll lose points.’
‘Thank you, Eddy.’ May was all demureness. And then she steadied her cue, lined up her shot and cracked the cue ball into the side of the reds.
They scattered. The pink ball rocked slightly, but otherwise didn’t move.
Eddy’s eyebrows rose in admiration. ‘Wonderful beginner’s luck, May. Well done.’
May lined up her cue again, concentrated and then slammed a red ball straight into a bottom pocket. Even more spectacularly, the cue ball came to rest exactly where she had intended it to, which was in a position perfect for potting the black.
Before either Eddy or Christle had got their breath back, May potted it and then, still with the cue in her hand, turned her back on the table and, with a wide grin on her face, said to a dazed Eddy, ‘Sorry for the tease. I just couldn’t resist it. I’ve been playing billiards since I was old enough to hold a cue. Do you think the two of us could play against Christle and Dolly, or Christle and Alge?’
‘I most certainly do, May, but you’re a naughty girl and, as a penance, I want to see you play the same joke on my papa.’
At midday, news came that although Toria and Maudie were slightly better, two other guests and another member of the household were now suffering from influenza, and Eddy’s mother had developed a severe cold and was keeping to her room.
‘It’s a bugger. The house is beginning to resemble a hospital,’ Georgie said at lunchtime. ‘If it wasn’t for Eddy’s birthday the day after tomorrow, I’d be packing my bags and heading straight back to Marlborough House.’
‘Cheer up.’ Christle threw a pellet of his bread roll across the table at him. ‘It’s out with the guns in the morning. A bit of fresh air in our lungs will keep the influenza bugs at bay.’
Following the guns wasn’t one of May’s favourite activities and she arranged to meet Eddy at the Sandringham estate home of Sir Dighton Probyn, where the shooting party was to have lunch. Sir Dighton was a longtime equerry to the Prince of Wales, and thirty years ago, as a young cavalry officer, had won the Victoria Cross for outstanding bravery during the Indian Mutiny. He always had a fund of entertaining stories to tell and, although she was a little shy of him, he was someone May greatly liked.
Georgie hadn’t felt up to a morning’s shooting in the bitterly cold weather, and so they walked the short distance to Sir Dighton’s home together.
‘Since your engagement, dear old Eddy has gained a whole new lease of life,’ he said as they scrunched companionably over the snow-covered ground. ‘Papa is in great good humour over it. He says you are going to be the making of Eddy.’
May stopped walking.
After continuing another step or two, Georgie halted and turned round. ‘What’s the matter, May? Is it too cold for you? Do you want to turn back?’
‘No.’ She remained where she was, her hands tucked deep into her fox-fur muff. ‘It’s just that I don’t understand why your father speaks of Eddy in such a derogatory way. Whenever he speaks to me, whatever he says is always interjected with “You must keep Eddy up to the mark, May,” or “See that Eddy does this, May” or “Make sure Eddy does that.” It’s all so unnecessary. Why does he never concentrate on Eddy’s good points? On t
he way that Eddy doesn’t possess a fiery temper, as he does? On how he is the best whist-player in the entire family, which in this family is saying an awful lot? On how he’s a first-class and utterly fearless polo player? And on how he speaks Danish far more fluently than anyone else in the family apart, of course, from Motherdear? And last but by no means least, on how he’s the sweetest-natured, kindest, most charming, amiable and well-loved member of the family there is?’
She was on the point of saying that even if his father didn’t have a high opinion of Eddy, the Queen and the Prime Minister had, and that Eddy would soon be Viceroy of Ireland. Remembering that no one – not even Georgie or his mother – was to be told this until after the wedding, she finished by saying, ‘So why does your father always go out of his way to belittle him?’
On hearing his father spoken of in such a manner, Georgie stared at her, open-mouthed with shock, and it occurred to May that perhaps she had gone a step too far.
‘It’s just . . .’ Georgie floundered. ‘It’s just that dear Eddy keeps himself so much to himself. It . . . it exasperates Papa.’
May didn’t find this a satisfactory answer, but knew it was as good an answer as she was likely to get. She also knew it was a subject that she shouldn’t have brought up, and one it would be wisest not to pursue.
Beginning to walk again, and as Georgie fell into step beside her, she said, ‘How long do you think it will be before you’ll be well enough to re-join your ship?’
Georgie fumbled in his overcoat pocket and withdrew a bag of sweets. ‘I’ve no idea. To tell the truth, I’m quite enjoying being on dry land. Would you like a bullseye, May? I never go anywhere without them.’
Luncheon was a buoyant affair, for Sir Dighton had the table in fits of laughter with tales of India and of how, when wandering unarmed from his tent one evening for a quiet smoke, he had come face-to-face with a tiger and had eyeballed it and yelled, ‘Be off, sir!’ and the tiger had immediately cut and run. The only person not in high spirits was Eddy.
The Summer Queen Page 25
