The Widow of Windsor (12 page)

She realised that it must have been some minutes since the gong had sounded. She would be late again.

She was right: she was, and the family were all at table. Her father looked at her with tender reproach. She was getting a little old now to be denied a second helping, or to stand while drinking her coffee. Prince Christian realised that all his attempts to cure her besetting sin had failed.

So he said nothing and she slid into her seat. Conversation was a little strained, she sensed, though the younger ones were not aware of it, so she was not surprised that when the meal was over she was asked to step into her father’s study.

There her parents said that they had something to tell her and it was obvious from their expressions that it was not very pleasant.

‘We have had a letter from Queen Victoria,’ said Prince Christian.

‘An ultimatum,’ retorted his wife.

‘Dear Alix,’ said Christian tenderly, ‘I’m afraid this is going to be something of an ordeal. The Queen wants you to go to England without us and to spend a month with her.’

‘Oh?’ said Alix.

‘Can you imagine it?’ cried Louise.

‘Yes, Mama. It will give me an opportunity to get to know her.’

The parents exchanged glances. Truly Alexandra was a strange girl. She seemed to have no fear of the forbidding Queen and her house of mourning.

‘You mean to say that you don’t mind?’

‘I think we shall be all right together, Mama,’ said Alexandra.

She couldn’t of course realise what it meant, thought her parents. Or was she so besottedly in love with Bertie that she was prepared to face any ordeal for his sake?

‘You will have to be punctual in England,’ her father warned her.

‘I shall try hard, Papa, but I daresay I shall slip up now and then,’ she replied with a smile.

Bertie was horrified. Poor Alix to be submitted to that. Oh God, he thought, I must save her.

He was delighted with the prospects of his marriage. She was a real beauty and she had charm too and poise. He would have found it very difficult to discover a Princess as attractive as Alix. He was in a way in love with her; he could easily fall in love with pretty women; they interested him more than anything else. He liked gambling, jolly company, practical jokes, lots of fun – all the things he had been deprived of by his parents so far, but women came first. All that would be changed once he was married. The Queen could scarcely treat a married man as though he were a child.

Alix – dear, jolly, beautiful Alix – would be the means of giving him his freedom, so naturally he was in love with her.

He really must care about her quite a lot for he was very indignant at the thought of her having to face that ordeal. Imagine being shut up for a month with Mama at dreary Osborne or Windsor – or Balmoral with that tiresome John Brown hovering over the Queen as though she were incapable and he was her keeper, and anywhere was dreary where Mama was nowadays. Poor Alix, she would have to listen to accounts of the perfections of the Prince Consort, his virtues, the lack of appreciation, how he had lived, how he had died. Surely she wouldn’t bring up that incident of the Curragh Camp? He’d soon explain that away if she did, and in any case he fancied Alix was not so strait-laced as not to understand that there was no great harm in sowing a few wild oats before marriage.

Poor dear Alix – he had to save her if he could. He appealed to Uncle Leopold, who saw his point.

Oh no, said Leopold, that was too much. Poor Alix would need to be at home to prepare herself for her wedding. She could not be expected to come to England in the winter of all times and share in the Queen’s mourning. He promised to write to the Queen, which he did.

Victoria read his letter and threw it aside. Dear Uncle Leopold, she loved him so much, but he did have a tendency to look upon himself as the head of the family, the head of Europe for that matter. Albert had said so. And what had Albert said of Alix? She must be made to understand that Bertie would be marrying her and not her family. There would be no involvement with Danish affairs, unless it was for the good of England that this should be.

She wrote to Prince Christian. She would expect Alix at Osborne on the 7th of November. He might bring her and stay for two days; then he should return to Denmark and come over to take her back in December. The Queen wished to have Alix to herself for a month.

Alix arrived at Osborne on a cold and misty November evening.

The Queen and her daughters were waiting to receive her. Alix, in spite of the weather, managed to look charming and the Queen noted this with pleasure.

‘My dear,
dear
child,’ she murmured, embracing her. ‘You must be perished with cold and worn out with the journey.’ She acknowledged Prince Christian’s greeting and said that Lenchen should show him to his room. She herself took Alix to hers.

‘How pretty you look,’ she said. ‘I am glad you came. There is much we shall have to say to each other.’

Alix looked at her and thought of her sad loss and how unhappy she would be if Bertie died; and she remembered how important her own father and mother were to each other, and she believed she understood a little of the Queen’s grief. Victoria was aware of this and was certain that in Alix she was going to find a new daughter.

When they were all together in the Queen’s sitting-room after supper had been served the Queen explained to them all what Osborne had been like before Prince Albert had changed it. ‘His one idea was to give me a house which he considered worthy of me. Everything he did he did to perfection. There were many roles he could have played in life, but he was taken from me.’

The tears began to flow.

Christian took his leave of his daughter.

‘My dearest daughter,’ he said, ‘if it becomes intolerable you must let me know. I wouldn’t have you unhappy for the world.’

She flung her arms round his neck. ‘Dearest Papa,
you
are an angel.’

‘Oh no, not that!’ he said and she smiled with him.

‘Poor Queen, how desolate she is. I shall do my best to cheer her.’

‘Good-bye, my child. Try to be punctual.’

‘Oh, I will, Papa, I promise you.’

Then he was gone.

There were many interviews with the Queen. Alix understood, she hoped, that when a Princess married, her family was that one which was her husband’s. A Princess came into a new country. That country’s ideals became hers. That country’s customs and so on. Alix must understand that.

Yes, said Alix, she did.

‘It was different in my case. I was the Queen. Albert was a second son of the house of Saxe-Coburg, as you know. It was his duty to come and live here. I shall never forget the day he arrived. I stood at the top of the staircase at Windsor and I thought an angel had come to me …’

Every conversation came back to him. Alix began to expect it. She learned a great deal about the Prince Consort and the more she heard the more it seemed to her what an uncomfortable person he must have been. His many perfections made him formidable and she did think that perhaps he was a little critical of those who were not of his own opinions.

But she listened sympathetically and the Queen enjoyed talking to her and going over the sorrowful events which had led to his death.

Victoria wondered whether she should mention the Curragh Camp incident. If she did not someone might. It would be better, she supposed, if the child heard it from her. She decided to tell her and played it down a little.

There had been an unfortunate incident in Bertie’s past. He had been led astray by wicked people. She would know of course that Bertie did not possess his father’s saintly qualities.

Thank God! thought Alix.

But then how many people could be expected to? asked the Queen. There was no one in the world to compare with that Incomparable Creature.

Alix would forget Bertie’s one lapse, commanded the Queen. It sometimes happened to young men and she had no doubt that Bertie himself would make a full confession before his marriage. She wanted Alix to tell him that she understood and of course when he was married such temptations would not occur. Alix would see to that. She was very happy that Bertie was going to marry and she wanted Alix to know that she believed wholeheartedly that he had chosen the one who would be the best wife in the world for him.

It was not all gloom and the Queen’s daughters, who would be her new sisters, could be quite merry when the Queen was not present. Beatrice – known as Baby still – was six and could even make the Queen smile with her quaint sayings. Alix enjoyed playing with her; and there was no doubt that they got on very well together. None of them was as terrifying as Vicky. Alice, the eldest of the girls, now pregnant, was very quiet and sweet-natured. Lenchen, who was herself getting near to marriageable age, was very interested in everything concerning the wedding; so was Louise, who was only two years younger. Arthur and Leopold kept out of the way, but Cousin Mary Cambridge, who had grown very fat, was a constant visitor and clearly delighted to have Alix in the country and was, Alix knew, secretly congratulating herself that she had helped to set the marriage plans in motion.

There was a visit to Windsor Castle – an awe-inspiring place, very gloomy, but it could have been different in other circumstances.

The weeks passed. Cousin Mary wanted to help with the trousseau and she and Alix spent many a happy hour discussing fashions and materials and what would be required.

It was with the Cambridges that Christian stayed when at the end of the month he came to take Alix home. The Queen did not invite him to Windsor nor did she ask to see him. Alix drove to Cambridge Lodge and there found her father.

They embraced warmly and then he held her away from him and looked at her searchingly.

‘You are all right?’ he asked anxiously.

‘But of course, Papa. What did you expect?’

‘And you want to marry and live here for the rest of your life?’

‘I want to marry Bertie,’ she said.

‘I’m satisfied now,’ said her father.

Bertie was waiting for them when they arrived at Calais. Gay and debonair, very gallant and attentive, how different from his mother! Alix was enchanted.