A Royal Christmas Quandary

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A Royal Christmas Quandary Page 10

by Samantha Hastings


  He would go there tomorrow and take Drina with him. She knew just what to say and when to say it. In fact, there was no one’s company he preferred more than hers.

  Chapter 12

  “I need an excuse to visit Frogmore Lodge,” George said to Drina during luncheon the next day as he dished himself potatoes on a plate.

  “And you expect me to find you one,” Drina said, more as a statement than as a question. He was asking for her help again and she could never seem to deny him even the smallest of requests.

  George grinned at her and nodded, taking a large bite from his roll.

  “Why?”

  “Mrs. Strachey at the tavern said the royal princes had gone to the frogs,” he said. “She must have meant Frogmore Lodge. They could have hardly gone to France, and there are no other frog cities about—I checked a local map yesterday.”

  She returned his grin. “Very clever, George. I suppose I could persuade Alice to visit her grandmother,” Drina said. “You could accompany us.”

  “I knew I could count on you,” he said.

  “When and where should we meet you?”

  “I’ll have a carriage ready near King George IV’s Gate at three o’clock,” he said.

  After finishing her lunch, Drina wandered through the different rooms and galleries to find her friend. Alice was playing the pianoforte in a small room. Drina smiled as she heard her friend play the traditional English carol “The Holly and the Ivy.” She let Alice complete the tune before announcing her presence in the room.

  “There you are,” Drina said as she clapped her hands in applause.

  “I didn’t know I had an audience, nor that I was missing,” Alice said, turning around on the piano bench to look directly at her.

  “Do you have plans for this afternoon, aside from practicing the pianoforte?”

  “To be truly competent at the pianoforte, you must practice at least an hour daily,” Alice recited.

  “Are you quoting your father or Baron Stockmar?”

  “Since neither of them is here to rap my knuckles if I play the wrong note, I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Alice said, wiggling her fingers. “What would you or your George like me to do this afternoon?”

  The princess was practically prescient. “Visit your grandmother at Frogmore Lodge.”

  Alice stood up. “I should always be happy to visit Grandmother. She isn’t in good health of late.”

  “Perfect.”

  Alice raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean, it’s not perfect that she isn’t well,” Drina explained quickly. “It’s perfect that you’ll come.”

  Alice laughed. “You and your George are far too easy to tease.”

  Drina stuck her tongue out at Alice. “He’s not my George. Come collect your things, we’re leaving at three o’clock from King George IV’s Gate.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Alice said, curtsying to Drina as if she were the Queen.

  “I’m not that bossy.”

  “You’re dreadfully domineering, my dear,” Alice said. “It runs in our blood and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

  Drina laughed and returned to her own rooms to collect a bonnet and a pelisse. It was always cold in the carriage, even on a short ride. She was the last to arrive at King George IV’s Gate; Alice was already there talking to George. Drina sincerely hoped her friend wasn’t embarrassing her.

  “I hear you’re destined for the Foreign Office, George,” Alice said. “Or should I call you Lord Worthington now that we’re all grown up?”

  “No, on both counts,” he said. “Ah, there’s Drina.”

  George opened the door to the outside, where a carriage was waiting for them. He helped Alice in first and then Drina. He climbed in after and placed rugs on both of their laps to keep them warm, then sat on the seat across from them. He tapped the window of the carriage to signal to the driver that they were ready to leave. The carriage lurched forward and Drina nearly fell forward.

  An awkward silence overcame their party. Drina tried to think of something to say to either Alice or George, but nothing innocuous came to mind.

  “So, I hear from Drina that you have lost one of my suitors,” Alice said with a twinkle in her eyes. She was clearly teasing both of them.

  “No, no, no,” George said quickly. “I’ve simply misplaced a prince.”

  “Like a glove,” Drina suggested.

  “Just like,” George said, and everyone laughed, clearing the awkward atmosphere. Drina breathed a little easier.

  “Well, I hope you find both him and my brother at Frogmore Lodge,” Alice said. “Either way, my grandmother will be delighted to have us visit. I believe she is lonely and her health isn’t what it used to be. I’m sorry she isn’t with us at Windsor.”

  “I’m sorry to hear she’s feeling poorly,” George said.

  Drina squeezed her friend’s hand.

  “I ever look back on my childhood and girlhood as the happiest time in my life,” Alice remarked. “But my mother’s childhood wasn’t a happy one, and the damage it did to her relationship with my grandmother has never been undone.”

  Drina noticed George looking at them both curiously. “When the Queen was a child, she wasn’t allowed to even walk down the stairs unless she held a hand of an adult,” she explained. “She was raised in virtual seclusion, but she was never allowed to be alone.”

  “Aunt Feodora, my mother’s half-sister, calls her time at Kensington House her ‘years of imprisonment,’” Alice continued. “My grandmother put too much trust in the villain Sir John Conroy. It was he who contrived such strict rules to control my mother.”

  “I see,” George said.

  Drina didn’t think he truly did. The rift this caused between Queen Victoria and her mother had mostly healed, but there was still a distance between them, which is why the Duchess of Kent resided at Frogmore Lodge and not at Windsor Castle with the rest of the royal family.

  “There it is!” Alice said, pointing out the window.

  Frogmore Lodge did not at all look like a lodge, but rather a midsize country house. It was stunningly white even against the snow. It reminded Drina a little of her family’s own estate, Rothfield House, but Rothfield was much larger. Frogmore Lodge was three stories high and had several rows of rectangular windows. The outer facade was nearly flat, except for a second-story balcony that encircled the entire house.

  The carriage pulled in front, and a footman appeared to open the carriage door. George descended first and then helped Drina and Alice out. They were ushered into the entryway, where their coats and hats were taken. A man, presumably the butler, bowed deeply to Alice. “This way, Your Royal Highness.”

  They followed him to a sitting room where there were two large fireplaces, both with blazing fires. Drina wanted to walk up and warm her hands in front of the closest one, but she didn’t. Instead she followed Alice to the other side of the room where an old woman sat in an enormous chair. The Duchess of Kent was clearly wearing a wig, for she had enormous dark curls surrounding her cheeks. Her face was plump and wrinkled, but she smiled kindly at them.

  “Grandmother,” Alice said in a sweeter voice than usual. “Please allow me to introduce my friends, Lady Alexandrina Gailey and Lord Worthington.”

  “I’ve seen you before,” the Duchess of Kent said, pointing her walking stick at George. “You’re the Duke of Doverly’s son.”

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness,” he said, and gave her an elaborate bow.

  The Duchess of Kent moved her walking stick to point at Drina. “You’re Cousin Wilhelmina’s daughter, then?”

  Drina curtsied. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You’ve inherited her good looks, except for—”

  “The nose,” Drina finished for her.

  “You may sit down,” the Duchess of Kent said.

  George and Drina sat on a sofa and Alice took the chair nearest to her grandmother. The older woman shivered.

  “Should I get you another shawl, Gran
dmother?” Alice asked, but was already standing up and fetching a black mantilla shawl. She placed it lovingly around her grandmother’s neck. The Duchess of Kent took one of Alice’s hands and squeezed it.

  “You are the dearest girl, Liebling,” she said. “I look forward to all your visits. Will you play for me?”

  Alice smiled and walked over to the pianoforte. She took off her gloves and played several Christmas songs, including Drina’s favorite, “Stille Nacht” or “Silent Night.” Drina and George clapped loudly and Alice bowed to them. She gave her grandmother a kiss on the cheek and then sat back down.

  “Wilhelmina’s girl,” the Duchess of Kent said.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you play and sing?”

  “I can play,” Drina said. She had the voice of a crow.

  “Then play.”

  Drina went to the pianoforte and played two moderately difficult songs. She wasn’t as accomplished a player as Alice and she could see that the Duchess of Kent knew it and was pleased by the comparison. Drina stood up after and accepted the praise of her friends before sitting back down next to George.

  “And what do you do?” the duchess asked George, pointing at him with her walking stick again.

  George blinked. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “I can play chess if you’d like?” he said, looking to Drina and Alice for assistance.

  “You can read to me,” the Duchess of Kent declared.

  George blinked again, but stood up and said gallantly, “Happy to. What would you like me to read, ma’am?”

  She used her ever-useful walking stick to poke a book on the table nearest her. George picked it up and began to read in a monotone voice. He continued to read for nearly half an hour before the older woman fell asleep and started to snore—loudly.

  George closed the book and quietly walked to the door. He waved for them to follow. Drina and Alice tiptoed to the door and closed it behind them.

  “Are the princes here?” George asked.

  Alice shrugged. “Let’s go ask the butler.”

  They followed Alice down the hall, where they were met by the butler. He bowed again to Alice.

  “My grandmother is resting,” Alice said. “I was wondering if my brother Bertie is visiting as well?”

  “Yes, he was, Princess Alice,” the man said. “The Prince of Wales came and stayed two nights, much to the delight of the Duchess of Kent.”

  “Has he gone already?” Alice asked.

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness.”

  “Was he alone?” George asked.

  “Did he have a man with him?” Drina added.

  The butler brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “The Prince of Wales did bring a guest with him.”

  “What was his name?” Drina asked.

  “I wasn’t vulgar enough to inquire,” the butler said tightly.

  “Did my brother say anything about his intentions?” Alice asked. “Where he was going next?”

  “To Windsor Castle,” the butler said. “He took Her Grace’s carriage not a half hour before you arrived.”

  “With the friend?” Drina clarified.

  “Yes.”

  “Simmons,” Alice said. “Would you be so good as to gather our things and alert our driver that we’re ready to go?”

  “Of course, Your Royal Highness,” he said, and gave her a low bow before leaving the grand entry.

  “It was probably Prince Friedrich,” Alice said.

  “If only we could know for certain,” George said, raking his fingers through his hair and swore.

  “I could teach you that curse in German if you’d like,” Drina offered. “It’ll come in handy if you go to Austria.”

  He smiled a little, but shook his head ruefully.

  “I’d like to know it,” Alice piped in. “Curse words were sadly lacking in my educational experience.”

  “Schei—”

  The butler returned at that exact moment with their coats and hats.

  “Sh-shall we go?” Drina managed.

  “Yes,” Alice said with a laugh. “And you can finish telling me all about it later.”

  Drina put on her coat and realized that she needed to use the facilities before their long and cold drive back to Windsor Castle. She caught Alice’s eye and mouthed: Water closet?

  “Spit it out, Drina. I don’t understand what you’re trying to ask me.”

  “Do you need something?” George asked.

  She wanted to throttle them both. Huffing, she said in whisper, “I need to use the—well, you know.”

  “My grandmother’s private throne room?” Alice asked with a smirk.

  George snorted, sounding just like his brother’s pig impression from the night before.

  Drina tsked and gave both of her dearest friends a blistering glare, which only made them laugh harder. “You two are very badly behaved for a princess and the son of a duke.”

  “Well, I’m only a second son.”

  “If you’ll follow me, my lady,” the butler said with a gesture of his white-gloved hand. Drina trailed behind him with one last glare at her snickering friends.

  The hygiene room was inconveniently placed at the end of a hall. She entered the large room and closed the door behind her. Sighing, she took off her coat and hung it up on the hook. The room truly did look like a royal palace. The bathtub was encased in ornate woodwork, and the toilet scarcely less engraved than a wooden throne. She placed her gloves on the table before conducting her business and washing her hands in the cold water of the sink.

  Drying her hands on the white towel, she dropped it and stooped down to pick it up. Underneath the washing table there was a handkerchief by the white towel. She was about to leave it on the floor when she recognized the insignia: Embroidered in the bottom corner was the family crest of the house of Hoburg, a circle of three lions.

  She tucked the handkerchief in her pocket before putting on her hat and gloves. She smiled as she left the room, content in knowing she would have the last laugh.

  They were still standing by the door, George squashing his hat between his nervous hands and Alice trying hard not to smile at his discomfort.

  “There, there, George. I don’t think your father will decapitate you without my mother’s express permission,” Alice said jovially. “Try not to remind her of when you broke a window at Balmoral Castle.”

  “It was probably Prince Friedrich with Bertie,” George said, ignoring her previous sally.

  “It wasn’t probably, it was most certainly Prince Friedrich of Hoburg.” Drina held up the handkerchief for her friends to see. “Look what I found in the royal throne room.”

  “Which means the prince has already arrived at Windsor Castle,” George said with an undignified huff. “And this whole trip was for nothing.”

  “Not nothing,” Alice assured them. “You read so soothingly that you put my grandmother right to sleep.”

  “You’re a terribly boring reader, George,” Drina said with a snort. “You nearly put me to sleep, too.”

  George bowed to the ladies. “Always happy to be of the smallest assistance.”

  Their carriage pulled up to the front of the house and they entered it in the best of spirits. When they arrived at Windsor Castle nearly half an hour later, Drina was anxious to see her cousin. Alice was interested to meet him and George would be relieved to finally find the missing prince.

  They walked to the prince’s bedroom and George knocked on the door. Herr Bauer answered it with his usual smile and greeted them in German.

  “May we speak to the Prince?” Drina asked in German.

  Herr Bauer shook his head and replied in German, “I’m sorry, he isn’t here.”

  “Have you seen him today?”

  “I haven’t seen His Royal Highness since the train station.”

  “Oh,” Drina said, and turned to translate the conversation for George; Alice spoke German flawlessly.

  The prin
cess didn’t say anything, but Drina could tell from her pursed lips and furrowed brow that she wasn’t pleased with the missing prince. Her suitor’s absence was more than a courtly slight; it was an international insult.

  “I’d better go and change before dinner,” Alice said, excusing herself. “Mama doesn’t tolerate tardiness.”

  Drina glanced at George, who looked stricken, as if he’d just seen a Weiße Frauen; his face was pale and he kept swallowing convulsively.

  “Where the blazes is the fool now?”

  She chewed on her lip. “Perhaps he stopped in town again for beer?”

  George raked his fingers through his dark hair, mussing it beautifully. “What am I going to do? There’s not enough time before dinner to go and find him.”

  “At least we know Prince Friedrich isn’t dead or kidnapped by highwaymen,” she pointed out.

  “I could kill him myself,” George said, shaking his head. The expression on his face did look murderous. She hadn’t seen him this upset since Edward broke his favorite slingshot on purpose when they were twelve.

  “As much as I’d like to assist you in murdering my cousin, I’d better go get dressed for dinner as well,” Drina said. She placed a hand on his arm and squeezed it. “I’m sure everything will work out.”

  Chapter 13

  George was decidedly less sure than Drina that everything would work out. In a half an hour everyone would assemble for dinner, and there would still be no Crown Prince of Hoburg.

  “What are you doing lurking in the hall?” his father barked in his raspy voice.

  George turned to see the Duke of Doverly already dressed for dinner, wearing a red sash filled with royal medals.

  “Don’t slouch, boy!”

  George popped back up like a toy soldier as his father whacked his shins with his cane. It smarted something fierce.

  “Where is the Crown Prince?”

  I have no idea.

  He contemplated telling his father the truth, but he knew it was a terrible notion.

  “With his valet, sir. Changing for dinner.”

 

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