Game of Crowns: Elizabeth, Camilla, Kate, and the Throne (31 page)

It quickly became evident that, if there was any hope of retaining the monarchy Down Under, William was it. Polls that routinely showed 60 percent of Australians favoring a republic plunged to 44 percent after William’s triumphant visit. Things weren’t much different back home. In late 2010, polls showed that 64 percent of Britons wanted William as their next king—and only 19 percent wanted Charles.

It would take several months after William’s Australian trip for the Heir to finally pop the question to Kate. But when he finally did ask Kate to marry him in October 2010, the setting was pure William: 12,500 above sea level, by a glistening lake nestled on the slopes of a snow-capped Mount Kenya. To get there, the Prince commandeered a helicopter and gave Kate an aerial tour of the Edenlike Rift Valley before setting down near a stand of East African junipers. Getting down on bended knee, he finally proposed to “Waity Katie” with his mother’s famous eighteen-carat sapphire and diamond engagement ring—“my way of making sure my mother didn’t miss out on today.”

A month later, the news was announced over Twitter and the Queen’s Facebook page. The Queen called it “brilliant news” and Charles professed to be “thrilled. They have been practicing long enough!” When asked what she thought of the engagement,
Camilla gave a two-word answer that hovered somewhere between sarcasm and Dr. Freud. “It’s wicked,” she said.

THE WEDDING OF THE CENTURY
had indeed surpassed all expectations, but no sooner was it over than the newlyweds were pressed into service. Postponing their ten-day honeymoon in the Seychelles for several weeks, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge stayed in England at the special request of the Queen. In mid-May, Charles and Camilla joined Elizabeth II and Prince Philip in welcoming Michelle and Barack Obama to the White House. Before the ceremonial luncheon and banquet, America’s First Couple was ushered into the 1844 Drawing Room for a private twenty-minute chat with William and Kate, their first official appearance since the royal wedding. At Camilla’s urging, Charles suggested that the newlyweds—about whom the world was still clamoring—not be invited to either the luncheon or the banquet, so as not to outshine the guests of honor.

The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge returned to their modest farmhouse in the Welsh countryside and tried to pick up where they left off. To give William and his bride a chance to enjoy their lives as young marrieds, the Queen promised them a two-year grace period of exemption from public duties. Kate’s introduction to official engagements and charitable patronages, then, would be gradual—or at least gradual by Her Majesty’s standards.

William and Kate had been back from their honeymoon just a matter of days when they attended the Queen’s private party at Windsor to celebrate Philip’s ninetieth birthday. Kate, Camilla, Charles, and Her Majesty then watched as William rode in the
Trooping the Colour parade for the first time. In July 2011, the newlyweds embarked on their first official trip overseas, to Canada and the United States. In Calgary they donned cowboy outfits for the Calgary Stampede, and later shook hands with star-struck cinematic icons like Charles’s old flame Barbra Streisand and Tom Hanks at a British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) gala held in the Cambridges’ honor.

Notwithstanding the inevitable tide of pregnancy rumors that would ebb and flow over the coming two years, Kate divided her time between their cozy house in Anglesey and Kensington Palace. The first monarch to occupy “KP,” as it was affectionately called by Kate’s late mother-in-law, was William III, who bought it from the Earl of Nottingham in 1689. More than 322 years later, the impressive Georgian brick manor house with its manicured gardens and Christopher Wren–designed orangery seemed the perfect official residence for a future king named William.

For the time being Kate and William bunked at “Nott Cott,” KP’s two-bedroom Nottingham Cottage, while their permanent quarters underwent a staggering $7.6 million renovation. The royal couple would eventually be occupying Apartment 1A, formerly the home of Princess Margaret. The name was more than merely misleading. Apartment 1A was in fact a four-story, twenty-one-room house with several large reception rooms, six bedrooms, seven bathrooms, its own walled garden, and private tennis courts.

The newlyweds were now also free to spend holidays and weekends at Anmer Hall, a ten-bedroom, Georgian brick-and-stone manor house on the grounds of Sandringham that was once the home of first Baron Rugby, who was appointed by Winston Churchill to be the United Kingdom’s first official representative
to the Republic of Ireland. More important, Diana had been born at nearby Park House, a mansion also situated on the Sandringham estate, and lived there until the Spencers took up residence at Althorp when she was fourteen.

Ultimately, the Queen would authorize extensive upgrades to Anmer Hall, including a conservatory, a new roof, and an updated, more family-friendly kitchen. Total cost: $3 million. Not to be outdone, the Middletons—with an assist from their son-in-law—plunked down $7.8 million for an even statelier home than the one they already had in Bucklebury.

Now that she was a full-fledged Royal Family member, Kate finally experienced her first Christmas at Sandringham—only to learn that her RAF search-and-rescue pilot husband was to depart February 1 on a six-week tour of duty in the Falkland Islands. As it happened, she would have her hands full taking care of their new, black English cocker spaniel puppy, Lupo, a Christmas gift from Michael and Carole Middleton. Back in London, Lupo and his mistress were soon a familiar sight walking to and from the Starbucks just two blocks from the palace on Kensington Church Street—Kate picking up after her dog with one hand while clutching a grande decaf soy latte in the other.

Not everyone was amused by the charming photos of Kate frolicking with her adorable puppy—nor the apparent confusion about who sat precisely where in the royal pecking order. After Charles married Camilla, Prince Edward’s wife, Sophie, Countess of Wessex, objected when she was told she was now required to curtsy to the Duchess of Cornwall. However, at the time the Queen did change the all-important “Order of Precedence of the Royal Family To Be Observed at Court” on “blood principles” so that neither Princess Anne nor Princess Alexandra, the granddaughter
of George V, would have to curtsy to Camilla when Charles was not present. (Anne, the “Princess Royal,” had refused to curtsy to Diana in spite of the rules, and made it clear she had no intention of ever curtsying to Camilla.)

Given Kate’s induction into The Firm, the Queen circulated a new document in the Royal Household clarifying the Duchess of Cambridge’s status. According to the new rules, Kate, when not accompanied by her husband, was required to curtsy to the “blood princesses”—Anne (the Princess Royal), Alexandra, and Prince Andrew’s daughters, Beatrice and Eugenie. When William was with her, Kate curtsied only to Charles, Camilla, Prince Philip, and of course the Queen.

There were other aspects of royal protocol affected by the new Order of Precedence, including who arrived first at a public event. Because she was not accompanied by the Prince of Wales to a memorial service at Windsor, Camilla had to wait outside in a downpour until Anne arrived so she could walk in behind the Princess Royal.

Like it or not, members of court quickly found themselves scrambling to abide by the Queen’s complicated new lineup for royal women—a lineup that, regardless of the new law striking down primogeniture, changed dramatically when a female Royal was in the company of her spouse. The rankings: 1, the Queen; 2, the Dowager Queen (the late Queen Mother); 3, the Duchess of Cornwall; 4, wives of the sovereign’s younger sons; 5, the sovereign’s daughters; 6, wives of the sovereign’s grandsons; 7, the sovereign’s granddaughters; 8, wives of the sovereign’s brothers; 9, the sovereign’s sisters; 10, wives of the sovereign’s uncles; 11, the sovereign’s aunts; 12, wives of the sovereign’s nephews; 13, the sovereign’s nieces; 14, the sovereign’s cousins.

It was significant that, even though her beloved mother had died years earlier, Elizabeth still placed the Queen Mother—Camilla’s bitter enemy—above her. “The Queen has subtle ways of keeping those around her a little off-balance,” said a senior diplomat who is close to the Royal Family. “She’s a marvelous woman, but you can’t be in her position without learning how to toy with people a bit. I’m sure she rather enjoys it at times, making Camilla squirm.”

Camilla was conscious of more than her vaunted second-place rank at court. She was feeling overworked, and she placed part of the blame on Kate. The Duchess of Cornwall racked up 230 royal appearances in her first year of marriage alone, compared to Kate’s meager 34 appearances in that same period of time—statistics she shared with friends who in turn leaked them to the press. (William, who in fairness was pulling ten-hour shifts as a search-and-rescue pilot, managed only 90 official engagements in 2011.)

It was not long before the unflattering articles had their desired effect. Elizabeth, as Camilla knew well, was extremely sensitive to any suggestion that members of the Royal Family weren’t earning their keep. Well into her eighties, the Queen made 370 official appearances in 2011—a figure that would soar to 425 in 2012.

Soon Kate was under pressure to come up with her own list of charities and start supporting them. She did not have to look far for a role model. “Obviously I would love to have met her,” Kate said of Diana. “She is an inspirational woman to look up to.” Borrowing a page from her late mother-in-law, Kate made her first official speech as royal patron of the East Anglia Children’s Hospices. She soon added the Art Room, an organization that uses art to treat abused children; the children’s mental health support group Place2Be; the Girl Guides (the UK equivalent of the Girl Scouts); SportsAid, benefiting disabled athletes; the substance
abuse group Action on Addiction; and two museums: the National History Museum and the National Portrait Gallery.

Kate also told the Queen directly that she wanted to keep busy while her husband was serving in the Falklands. Thrilled to hear it, Her Majesty put the Duchess of Cambridge down for several events kicking off the Diamond Jubilee celebrations of her sixtieth year on the throne.

IN MARCH 2012, KATE VISITED
the legendary specialty shop Fortnum & Mason on Piccadilly with the Queen and her stepmother-in-law—a rare opportunity for the press and public to see the current and future queens shop for delicacies and share a cup of tea in the store’s restaurant. Then she accompanied her grandparents-in-law on a two-hour train trip to the East Midlands city of Leicester. Elizabeth and Philip, aware that Kate had admitted to still being quite “jittery” at the prospect of meeting large crowds of people, spent the entire trip soothing her nerves and boosting her morale.

They needn’t have worried. In the manner of Diana, Kate effortlessly connected with children, seniors, the disabled, her peers—whatever bouquet-bearing group confronted her along the rope line. Most important, never once did she seem condescending, miffed, brusque, uninterested, or simply stiff—criticisms that at one time or another had been leveled at virtually every senior member of the Royal Family, including the Queen.

The Leicester trip included a De Montfort University alumni fashion show, during which Kate, dressed in gray, and the Queen, clad head to toe in shocking pink, schmoozed and laughed for half an hour. Kate “looked amazing, and they were smiling and
talking,” said Leicester MP Liz Kendall. “They obviously have great affection for each other.”

It was also evident that the newest member of the royal team was bringing along a touch of enchantment all her own. “It’s a real coup to have the Queen,” designer Karen Millen said, “but also to have Kate, who is a style icon and a great ambassador for British fashion and fashion everywhere.” Kate Bostock, an executive with the British retailer Marks & Spencer, summed up what it was like having Kate and the Queen sitting together in the front row: “It was so . . . tingly.”

The “Kate Effect,” as the Men in Gray insiders now referred to it, was undeniable. It was also a powerful tool that the Queen intended to employ in her continuing efforts to keep the monarchy alive. By way of gauging just how useful Kate could be, all Elizabeth needed to do was look at the Duchess of Cambridge’s startling poll numbers. A survey commissioned by the
Sunday Times
showed that 73 percent of Britons believed Kate was breathing new life into the Royal Family.

Two weeks after the triumphant inaugural tour of Leicester, Elizabeth II addressed both houses of Parliament for the sixth time in her sixty-year reign. Prince Philip sat next to her on his own, slightly smaller but nonetheless similarly gilded throne. Elizabeth II praised her husband for being her “constant strength and guide,” but also pointed out that he was “well-known for declining compliments of any kind.”

Flanked by Beefeaters and gold-helmeted officers of the Household Cavalry, the Queen also spoke of Britain’s close ties to the Commonwealth—ties that, she was being told by her advisor, now seemed to hinge more than ever on her personal popularity. While acknowledging that most Australians had “deep affection”
for the Queen, former Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard predicted that Elizabeth’s death would bring about a major change Down Under. “I think the appropriate time for this nation to move to be a republic,” Gillard said, echoing the sentiments of several other Commonwealth nations, “is when we see the monarch change.”

There was a mind-spinning stream of banquets, concerts, luncheons, receptions, garden parties, and teas both inside and outside London over the months leading up to the Queen’s four-day Diamond Jubilee celebration in June. Following the three-day-long Royal Windsor Horse Show, the Queen hosted the largest assembly of crowned heads since she assumed the throne: twenty-four kings and queens, an emperor and an empress, a grand duke, an emir, and a sultan.

Camilla and Kate stood silently on the sidelines while their husbands paid effusive tribute to the Queen in a special hour-long television documentary. The program showed Charles sitting in the library at Balmoral, sometimes chortling, sometimes teary-eyed as he offered commentary on home movies that flickered on the screen before him. In one, eight-year-old Charles and his little sister, Anne, are at Holkham Beach near Sandringham, buried up to their necks in sand with one of “Mama’s” corgis lording it over them. Praising her “amazing record of devotion, dedication, and commitment,” all carried out with “amazing poise and natural grace,” the Prince of Wales went a long way toward erasing the damage he had done eighteen years earlier when he described his mother as cold and distant.