Lord Rakehell (15 page)

Emily eyed Anne's glittering gown with disapproval, and Anne returned the favor with a look of pity for her sister's drab dress, the color of which could best be described as
cat shit
.
Anne caught her mother's eye, and both of them had to exercise constraint.

Emily, however, was simply bursting to share her news with the rest of her family. She waited until the soup was served, knowing everyone would be caught agog with their spoons halfway to their mouths. “His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales has become secretly engaged. Buckingham Palace will make the announcement in the New Year!”

“Oh, that is exciting news,” Georgiana Beaufort declared. “Who is the lucky bride?”

“I shall tell you only because I know all of you will keep this in strict confidence.” Emily paused, keeping everyone in suspense, basking in their undivided attention. “He is to marry Princess Alexandra of Denmark!”

“Poor princess,” Lady Howe murmured.

“What on earth do you mean?” Emily demanded.

“She's so young, and coming to a strange country to a husband she doesn't know.”

“In my humble opinion, there is nothing strange about England,” Emily protested, “but then of course you're Irish.”

“She never had a humble opinion in her life,” Anne murmured to Henry Fane, and watched him cover his laughter with his napkin.

Henry's wife, Adelaide, said, “Well, Queen Victoria is so rigid and strict, I don't envy the young princess. Emily, didn't I hear you remark that Buckingham Palace is like a mausoleum these days?”

Anne simply couldn't resist. “The Prince and Princess of Wales won't be living at Buckingham Palace. They are to have their own establishment at Marlborough House.”

Everyone spoke at once, save Emily, who sat with an open mouth. When she recovered, she demanded, “How did you come to possess such privy information?”

Anne's eyes sparkled with mischief. “I'm Irish. . . . I have second sight.”

Everyone at the table laughed at the clever retort, except for Emily, who pressed her lips together in hatred.

Henry Fane remarked to Anne, “The prince is mad about horses and racing. Once he gets his own establishment and cuts the royal apron strings, he'll be a regular on the racing circuit.”

“Yes, I recall that he was at Newmarket the day I attended the races with you.”

That was one of the happiest days of my life. James stole my heart that day, and not for the first time.

The topic of the upcoming marriage between Prince Edward and Princess Alexandra lasted throughout the entire meal. Then the ladies withdrew to the drawing room while the men remained in the dining room to enjoy their port and cigars.

An hour later when the gentlemen joined the ladies, it was time for the adults to open their gifts. It was the custom for the men of the family to give their wives jewels. This was the first Christmas that Anne's niece Alice was old enough to join the adults. She opened a gift from her parents and eagerly showed the other ladies her seed-pearl brooch.

When Anne opened her present, she was thrilled to find an emerald bracelet. She knew it was her mother who had picked it out, though she also thanked her father profusely, knowing it was his money that had paid for it.

She watched her mother open her gift from her husband. It too was emeralds, a lovely matching set of necklace and earrings. Mother and daughter smiled into each other's eyes. “You have exquisite taste, Mother.”

Montagu, who had been charged with the pleasant task of handing out the gifts, gave his sister a square box, and an oblong box to his mother.

Anne glanced down at the card that read:
Happy Christmas, Lady Anne.
The card gave no indication of whom the gift was from. Her mother opened her box first, and held up a carving of Poseidon, the God of the Sea, holding his trident.

“Oh, Leicester, how thoughtful. This is from the Ionian Islands. I shall treasure it.”

Anne bent to pick up the card that had fallen from the gift, and when she glanced at it, she frowned. She tried to remember where she had seen the initial
L
before, and it came to her in a flash that it was precisely the same handwriting she'd seen on the love letter she'd found in her mother's dressing room.
That cannot be! My mother couldn't possibly have been in love with my father's son.
Anne dismissed the thought. She firmly told herself that such a wicked idea was unworthy of her.

She sat down to open her own present. She drew the snow globe from its box and sat gazing at it in wonder. There was a tiny figure of herself, sitting in a horse-drawn sleigh. It was even wearing a white fur Cossack hat. She tipped it up and watched in delight as the snowflakes swirled about in a frenzied snowstorm. She read the card again:

Happy Christmas, Lady Anne.
Because of the white fur hat she had worn to the masquerade ball, she knew that it could be from only one person:
James!

Where on earth did he find such a treasure?
Anne examined the box, and saw the words
Made in Belgium
.
She felt the warmth from her cheeks slowly spread to her heart. She put the globe back in its box. She suddenly felt very possessive about it and didn't want to share it with anyone. Besides, there would be all sorts of questions about who had given her such a lovely present, and why, and she didn't want to answer them.

Anne didn't remove the snow globe from its box until she was safely in her bedchamber for the night, after all the Christmas festivities were over. She tipped it upside down and delighted in the flurry of snowflakes. She set it on the table beside her bed so that she could see it and touch it, and, yes, daydream about the man who had bought it for her.

After she got into bed, she reached over half a dozen times to stir up the snowstorm inside the magical glass globe and knew without a doubt it was the most precious gift she had ever received. She lifted the card and read it again:
Happy Christmas, Lady Anne.

She suddenly remembered her mother's card from Leicester that bore the distinctive letter
L
. Her mother's voice floated back to her:
I was in love with a man who was just a little older than me. He warned me that my mother would conspire with Queen Adelaide to marry me to the lord chamberlain. He was a young officer in the army.

Anne knew that Leicester and her mother were about the same age, and he was certainly an army officer. She suddenly thought of her brother's marked resemblance to Leicester.
Oh my God, what if Mother was having Leicester's child when he was posted abroad? Perhaps that's the reason she allowed her mother to coerce her into marrying my father.
Anne's thoughts were so shockingly sordid, she instinctively denied them.

Mother couldn't possibly have been intimate with both a man and his son.
But the forbidden thoughts came back again and again. Anne thumped her pillow and turned over.
It's wicked to think such vile thoughts. I adore my mother; she couldn't possibly have been involved in something so scandalous.

“I
haven't received even one proposal of marriage, and Florence has received two!” Frances Hamilton put up her umbrella as she and Anne Howe walked briskly to the waiting carriage. The friends had been shopping on Oxford Street with the bride-to-be.

As expected, Lady Florence Paget's engagement to Viscount Henry Chaplin had been announced in mid-January, and the wedding was plann
ed for Saturday, February 21.

“She said Henry Rawdon is begging her to elope.” Anne opened the carriage door and both young women hopped in out of the rain. “Florence really should call off her wedding to Chaplin. I know it will take a great deal of courage, but she'll have no chance of happiness marrying a man she doesn't love.”

As the carriage rolled along on its way to Hampden House, Anne remembered her mother's words:
I should have listened to him when he begged me to elope. I've always regretted that I did not have the courage to take my happiness in my own hands and marry the man with whom I was so deeply in love.

“Do you think Florence has the courage to elope?” Frances asked.

“I don't know. She doesn't seem the impulsive type,” Anne replied doubtfully.

When the carriage stopped at Hampden House, Frances invited Anne to come in.

“You might as well wait until the rain stops.”

Lady Lu came to the top of the stairs when she heard them arrive. “I'm so glad you're back. Come and have a look at the
Illustrated London News
. Buckingham Palace has finally announced the engagement of the Prince of Wales!”

Frances and Anne hurried up and went into the dining room, where the duchess had laid out the newspaper on the long table. They were extremely curious about Princess Alexandra and pored over the newspaper engagement photographs with great interest.

“The setting is beautiful, but her gown is rather plain for an engagement.”

“I think it's better to be too plain, rather than too frilly and fussy, Frances. That way everyone will look at her and not her dress. She has a sweet face,” Anne said.

“When the princess and her family live in Denmark, I wonder why the engagement took place in Belgium,” Frances asked.

“That's what I asked your father,” Lady Lu confided. “Apparently, when he wrote the official letter to Prince Christian of Denmark, they were thrown into a dilemma. The family lived in rather Spartan circumstances. They didn't want the Prince of Wales to see Princess Alexandra in this setting. Unbelievably, she shared an attic bedroom with her sister Dagmar, and the girls made their own clothes. Abercorn immediately wrote to King Leopold of Belgium, and of course Prince Teddy's uncle was more than happy to offer the splendid hospitality of his Royal Castle of Laeken in Brussels.”

“I had no idea a princess could be poverty-stricken,” Anne declared. “My heart goes out to her.”

“Her circumstances are about to change dramatically. According to James, the inside of Marlborough House is positively opulent. He and Prince Teddy are busy interviewing a legion of servants to run the place. He says the grand mansion will be the envy of Society and everyone will vie for an invitation. Personally, I can't wait.”

“It says the royal wedding is to take place at Windsor on Tuesday, March tenth.” Anne finished reading the article. “St. George's Chapel isn't very large.”

“Queen Victoria insists on a small wedding because she's still in mourning. There are going to be a lot of disappointed people when they learn they haven't been invited.”

“How long will the queen be in mourning?” Frances asked her mother.

Lady Lu rolled her eyes. “For the rest of her life would be my guess. The woman is obsessed. It's unnatural and unhealthy—she absolutely wallows in it!”

“My sister Jane tells us that the queen insists that the servants take hot water into Albert's dressing room every morning, and lay out fresh clothes for him, just as if he were still alive. Doesn't your sister Emily find Victoria's behavior obsessive?”

“I doubt that Emily would ever criticize the queen,” Anne confided. “Her husband was an equerry to Prince Albert, and when the consort died, Victoria appointed him her groom-in-waiting as a special accommodation to my sister.”

“Jane told me that Princess Alexandra's wedding gown is being designed by Charles Frederick Worth, and fashioned after Queen Victoria's,” Lady Lu confided.

“Good heavens, won't the princess have any say in the matter?” Anne asked in disbelief. “What if she doesn't like the gown when she sees it?”

“Since it's to be fashioned after Victoria's wedding gown, how could she like it?” Lady Lu asked wryly. “I thank my lucky stars every day that I turned down the position of Victoria's Mistress of the Robes.”

“You say the most deliciously outrageous things, Your Grace. I have taken you as my role model.”

Lady Lu winked at Anne. “You could do worse.”

•   •   •

“Here it is on the front page.” James had an armful of newspapers, all announcing the Prince of Wales's engagement, but the
Illustrated London News
had produced the best photographs.

“Newspaper pictures are anything but flattering.” Prince Teddy frowned.

“Don't worry. Everyone knows what you look like. All eyes will be on the princess.”

“I think I like this one best, James, where Alexandra is sitting.”

“Yes, the princess is smiling in that one.”

“March seems so far away. I detest Buckingham Palace. I can't wait to move out.”

“I've been thinking about that. Now that your official engagement has been announced, I see no reason why you shouldn't move into Marlborough House. Since we've hired a full staff of servants, it will give them a chance to get to know you and vice versa.”

“But, James, my money doesn't come through until I'm a married man.”

“That shouldn't prove a problem. We'll just forward the bills for all the expenses to Sir William Knollys at the Treasury Department. He's been named your comptroller, and I doubt he will question your expenditures.”

Teddy's face lit up. “By God, James, do you think we could go today?”

“I don't see why not. Let's have the servants in to begin your packing.”

“I can't wait to start entertaining in my own establishment.”

“And why should you wait? Why don't we start working on a list of gentlemen you can invite to your bachelor's party?”

“But my mother . . .”

James held up his hand. “Your mother will object to everything you do. The queen seems determined to be sad, sour, and solitary. My advice is to start out as you mean to carry on. From now on you are your own man—a man who makes his own decisions, and let the devil take the hindmost!”

“You are a marvel, James. What on earth would I do without you? Henry Chaplin, a friend of mine from Oxford, just got engaged. I'll drop him a note of congratulations and invite him to the celebration. Chaplin owns racehorses, so that's another thing we have in common.”

“I predict there will be a multitude of weddings this year. You will set the fashion.”

“What about you, James? Are you ever tempted to take on a wife?”

“London's loveliest ladies will soon be flocking to Marlborough House. I'll be able to take my pick.” He thought wistfully of Lady Anne Howe, but he knew that if he dwelled on her too much, she evoked a feeling of longing that was difficult to dispel.
Stop deluding yourself. You only want her because you can't have her.

•   •   •

The minute that the prince moved into Marlborough House, and was away from the scrutiny of the queen and her loyal Buckingham Palace servants, Teddy was ready to kick over the traces. During January and February the Prince of Wales began to indulge in scandalous behavior. Accompanied by his close friends James Hamilton and Charles Carrington, he frequented Evan's Music Hall in Covent Garden, and began to attend Cremorne Gardens at Vauxhall for assignations in their notorious private supper rooms.

The orgies and celebrations, replete with nymphs of the pavement and courtesans, lasted into the small hours. The ale and whiskey flowed freely, and the prince's amorous escapades erupted each night along with the firework displays.

Gossip about the Prince of Wales and his gentlemen attendants spread like wildfire, and their reputations as rakes and libertines grew apace. James attended to keep an eye on Teddy and to make sure he was not exposed to any real danger. He gave little thought to his own reputation, and was perversely amused that his good qualities were obscured by a facade of ill repute.

James indulged Teddy, believing that the repressed prince should get it all out of his system before his royal marriage to Princess Alexandra.

•   •   •

On February 14, Lady Anne received three valentines in the morning post. John Claud's card was a huge red heart decorated with real lace, and a romantic verse asking if she would be his valentine. A second card from Fitz Kerry showed a bouquet of red roses, tied with real satin ribbon. The verse told her that she had stolen his heart.

Anne held her breath as she opened the third envelope. Her hopes were dashed when she saw that it was from Edward Turnour, Earl of Winterton.
Perhaps I'll get one in the afternoon post. But perhaps not. I'll be the last person James will be thinking about today.
Montagu had told her that the Prince of Wales and James Hamilton were hosting a bachelor's party at Marlborough House tonight and that he and John Claud were going.

“Oh, how lovely!” Anne's mother was holding a large bouquet of red roses. “These must be for you, darling. Open the card quickly, I can't wait to see who sent them.”

Anne's heartbeat quickened as she took the bouquet from her mother and breathed in the heady rose fragrance with appreciation. She opened the tiny card with trembling fingers. “Ah, John Claud.” She immediately covered her disappointment.

“He's a lovely young man. You are lucky to have such a devoted suitor.”

“I'm going to visit Frances this afternoon, so I'll be able to thank him for the flowers. Our friend Florence is coming to discuss last-minute arrangements for her wedding next Saturday.”

“I'm surprised she didn't ask you to be a bridesmaid, darling.”

“Well, I know she would have liked both Frances Hamilton and me to be bridesmaids, but she has half sisters to consider. Her father has been married three times and had large families with his first two wives.”

“Like father, like son! The Earl of Uxbridge divorced his first wife. Poor lady was never accepted at Victoria's court after that. The queen always had one set of rules for gentlemen and another for ladies. She wouldn't dream of banning Uxbridge because he was divorced, but his poor wife was persona non grata.”

“The Duchess of Abercorn believes the court of Buckingham Palace has fallen out of fashion. From now on Marlborough House will be where Society gathers.”

“Montagu is attending a bachelor party there tonight. But of course, ladies won't be invited until Alexandra
takes up residence as the Princess of Wales.”

“I'll put my lovely roses in water. This afternoon I'll take my valentine cards to show Frances. I hope she got some.”

“I would imagine every fortune hunter in London will have sent a valentine to Abercorn's daughter.”

Mother seems envious of the Hamiltons, but if I'm being truthful, I too am envious. They are such a perfect family.

•   •   •

“I've brought my valentines to show you.” Anne took the three cards from their envelopes, and spread them out on the tea table in the Hampden House drawing room.

“May I see them?” Frances's sister Maud asked.

“Of course. This one with the lovely red heart is from John Claud, and this one with the ribbons is from Fitz Kerry.”

Maud gasped. “The Earl of Kerry? Oh, I think he is divine!” She sighed. “I would be over the moon if he sent me a valentine, or even looked at me. But he doesn't know I exist.”

“You're only twelve,” Frances pointed out. “It would be scandalous if you received valentines.”

Maud put her hands on her hips. “I shall be thirteen this year, and if Anne can add a year to her age, so can I. That makes me fourteen!” She picked up the valentine from Fitz Kerry and pressed it to her heart.

“You may have it if you like, Maud,” Anne offered.

“Truly? You're not in love with him?”

Anne smiled wistfully. “No, I'm not in love with him.”

“Thank you. I shall take it up to my room and put it on my pillow.”

When she left, Frances looked at Anne's third valentine and began to laugh. “Such an amazing coincidence. I too got one from Winterton!” She produced the card.

Anne joined in her friend's laughter. “I didn't know he was interested in women. I thought his only love was cricket. This makes for a sticky wicket.”

“The post brought me something far more exciting than valentine cards. The queen has asked me to be one of Princess Alexandra's bridesmaids. I accepted immediately.”

“Oh, you lucky monkey, Frances! I thought we were fortunate to be invited to the wedding, but to be a bridesmaid is such a special privilege.”

“I'm not deluding myself. Victoria only asked me because of Father's close association with Prince Albert.”

Just then Florence Paget arrived. They took one look at her and saw that she was fairly bursting to tell them something.

“Catch your breath and tell us,” Anne urged.

“First, you have to promise on your lives to keep this secret!”

“Of course we promise,” Frances vowed. “We never divulge your secrets.”

“Wild horses couldn't drag it out of us,” Anne declared.

“I'm going to be married!” Florence ran to the drawing room door and closed it.