She strode into the stables, and heard Pharaoh whinny the moment she walked in. He recognized her step and sensed her, and she found his stall easily. He nuzzled up next to her, and she saddled him with the saddle and tack the palace grooms had brought to Yorkshire for her, and then changed her mind. She removed the sidesaddle, and took one of the ordinary men’s saddles she found in the tack room, so she could ride astride. She shortened the stirrups to the right height for her. She found a groom to give her a leg up, and a moment later, she was heading down a path toward the lake, passing under splendid tall trees which provided shade along the path. She was warm in her jacket but didn’t care, as she reached a field and gave Pharaoh his head. He was as happy as his mistress as they took off at full speed. They galloped for half an hour, rode past the lake, and then doubled back at a slow canter, as she smiled at the scenery around her. It was a beautiful place, and she didn’t feel quite so far from home with Pharaoh to ride. As she slowed to a trot on the way back, Henry Hemmings approached on his horse and caught up with her. He looked at her admiringly.
“You’re a bruising rider. I saw you galloping in the fields before. He’s a splendid animal, fit for a queen,” he said smiling at her, and for an instant, she wondered if he knew who she was, but she was sure he didn’t.
“He’s a good boy. He was a gift from my father,” she said.
“I’ll race you when you get used to the terrain around here,” he offered and she nodded, looking pleased. “Although Winston is no match for him, but we’ll try.” She laughed and smiled as she looked at him, feeling more comfortable than when she arrived.
“It’s lovely here,” she complimented him, as he rode the big gray horse, who was a fine specimen, but didn’t have the bloodline Pharaoh did, and would have a hard time beating him. She noticed that Henry had warm brown eyes, and a shock of dark hair. His riding clothes were old and worn, and she suspected had been his father’s from long ago, since they were of another era. There was nothing fashionable about Henry, but he was open and friendly, and happy to have another young person there, and he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was a beautiful girl. He knew that Lucy had a crush on him, but it wasn’t reciprocal, so he ignored it and pretended not to know. She was a big, awkward, plain girl, and not very interesting to talk to. Her education in a London school had been brief, and her interests were limited. She had helped out in her father’s shop every day and sometimes with her mother’s sewing, she had told them, which didn’t interest Henry. She hated horses, which were his passion, as they were Charlotte’s. He liked Lucy. She was a decent girl, and he could sense that she was lonely and wanted to talk at times, but they had nothing in common. And in contrast, he was dazzled by Charlotte, who seemed like a bright shining star to him. She had a much bigger presence than he had expected judging from her size. And she was a remarkable horsewoman.
They picked up the pace, and cantered the rest of the way back to the stables, jumping over several brooks and some logs along the way. They were evenly matched as riders, and it was fun riding with him. They unsaddled their horses after they dismounted, and Charlotte brushed Pharaoh, and fed him some oats and hay, and then she and Henry walked back to the house together. It was almost time for tea, which was their evening meal. She had stayed out for a long time, and went to change. She met Lucy on the stairs, in a plain blue cotton dress, on her way to the kitchen, to help get tea ready for the family. She didn’t mind serving them and thought Charlotte would too.
“You can come to the kitchen to help as soon as you change,” Lucy said in a curt voice. She had seen Charlotte and Henry from her window as they rode home, and she worried when she saw them. She still hoped that one day, with time, Henry might reciprocate her feelings for him. In light of that, Charlotte’s arrival wasn’t a happy development for her. Lucy had spent two years hoping that Henry would become enamored with her, and she could make this her home forever, and she didn’t have much longer to woo him, before he went to war. Henry would be leaving in a few months, and now this pretty elfin girl from London had shown up. Charlotte hadn’t tried to charm him, but she didn’t have to. Everything about her was so enchanting that Lucy was sure Henry would fall in love with her, and Lucy’s chances would be dashed forever.
She looked glum as she set the table, and banged a few dishes down on it, angry about something Charlotte couldn’t guess at. Charlotte arrived a few minutes later in a navy pleated linen skirt, a white cotton blouse, and flat shoes. There was nothing of the seductress about her. She was all innocence, but she was a very beautiful young girl, which the two ancient kitchen maids had noticed too. One of them did the cooking, which was a challenge because they were so limited by rationing. The full brunt of that hadn’t hit Charlotte until now, but it did here. At the palace, their chefs were artful about making up for what they lacked for the queen’s table, but here in Yorkshire, it was going to be a slim meal. She wasn’t a hearty eater so she didn’t mind.
The earl and countess came downstairs to the dining room on time, and the girls sat down with them. They were generous about having Lucy eat with them, and had been since she arrived. It had improved her manners considerably, and she also helped in the kitchen, and served most of the meal. Charlotte tried to help but was embarrassed to realize she had no idea what to do, how to carry the platters in properly, how to set the table, or serve. She was used to everything appearing, with no thought given to how the servants did it, and she knew that here she’d have to learn in order to make herself useful. The countess looked embarrassed when she saw Charlotte carrying in a bowl of thin stew made with pork from the pigs on their farms. She started to tell Charlotte that she didn’t need to serve, and the earl gave her a cautioning look. Her Royal Highness would have to be one of the normal people here, pitching in as everyone else did, so no one would suspect her true identity. She was Charlotte White, a commoner now, but nothing about her demeanor made that convincing. She was a princess to the core, and looked it, even in simple clothes. After the meal, she and Lucy carried the plates back to the kitchen. Charlotte looked as though she might drop them but she didn’t, much to everyone’s relief.
They all retired early and kept country hours, since they woke at dawn. Henry often left to help on the farms before sunrise. He walked Charlotte back to her room that night, and offered to lend her a book about Arabian horses that he had just read, and she thanked him. After he left, she sat down at the small desk in her room to write to her mother. The countess was going to mail her letters for her so no one would see who they were addressed to. With a sigh, Charlotte picked up her pen, wondering what to say to them. She didn’t want to shock them by telling them about serving dinner, or worry them, nor tell them about the tiny room that would be hers in the drafty dark manor for the next year. She was anxious to hear from them soon, Alexandra had promised to write too.
“Dear Mama and Papa,” she wrote in her elegant penmanship, and began telling them about riding Pharaoh in the beautiful Yorkshire hills. That was something they would understand at least, and she could tell them honestly that she hadn’t been troubled by her asthma on the first day there, and didn’t need her medicine. She told them about Lucy and said she was very nice. She didn’t mention Henry, who had been pleasant to her too, but it didn’t seem proper to write about him. She talked about the earl and countess, and their hospitality. It took her an hour to finish the letter, and there were tears in her eyes when she sealed it. Her family, and the palace, and all the problems in London seemed so far away. It was going to be a very long ten or eleven months until she could return. For now, Pharaoh was her only reminder of home in this unfamiliar world. Lucy seemed almost too withdrawn to become a friend, and Henry was a boy, so they wouldn’t be close. The earl and countess were kind but seemed so old. She missed her parents and sisters fiercely as she left the letter on her desk and undressed for bed in the tiny room. She had never felt so alone in her life, and the year ahea
d seemed like an eternity, as she cried herself to sleep that night.
Chapter 2
Charlotte rapidly fell into a routine of leaving the house at dawn every day, and riding Pharaoh through the fields and along paths in the forests for several hours before coming back to the house. There were no morning chores she had to do, and no one objected to her going out riding. Henry saw her leaving the stables one morning, when he was late going to a nearby farm, and asked if he could ride with her. Neither of them could resist the temptation to race each other, and Charlotte always won, because of Pharaoh’s extraordinary speed, and her ability to urge him on.
“You shouldn’t ride out alone,” he chided her gently. “I know you’re a very fine rider, and Pharaoh is sure-footed, but if anything ever happens, there would be no one to help you.” In part because of her size and the fact that she was a girl, he felt protective of her.
“I don’t want to be slowed down by a groom on an old horse,” she said, and he laughed.
“Maybe I should ride with you every day.” She blushed when he offered, and didn’t answer. She could tell that he liked her, but more than anything they liked riding together. Charlotte never flirted with him. She told him about her sisters sometimes, without saying who they were, and he never suspected anything. Charlotte was the companion he would have liked to have had for the last two years, not Lucy. He and Charlotte always found something to talk about, unlike Lucy, with whom he never knew what to say. She was so obviously besotted with him, it embarrassed him, and he felt awkward trying to respond. She was becoming increasingly dour as the friendship between Henry and Charlotte grew. She knew there was no way she could compete with Charlotte’s beauty and innocent charm, and within weeks, it was equally obvious to the countess that her son was falling in love with their royal guest. They were becoming inseparable. He now left for the farms later, and came home earlier, changed for dinner, and was always on hand to help Charlotte, even with carrying in the heavy platters for their meals. He had never offered to help Lucy with the same tasks. Charlotte was learning how to make herself useful in the kitchen. She never tried to shirk from the menial tasks, or even the disagreeable ones, like scrubbing the pots, or washing the kitchen floor, which Henry insisted on doing for her. It caused a deep resentment between the two girls, not on Charlotte’s part, but Lucy could see easily what was happening. The only one who seemed unaware of the meaning of his intentions was Charlotte. She seemed oblivious and entirely innocent. He was her riding partner, and her friend, as far as she was concerned, and nothing more.
The countess mentioned it to her husband one night in their room, with a look of concern. “Have you noticed how attentive Henry is to our royal guest?” Their bedroom was the only place she could allude to who Charlotte really was.
“What do you mean?” The earl was surprised.
“He’s besotted with her, George. Surely you’re aware of it?”
“They’re just like pups playing together. It doesn’t mean anything,” he said blandly.
“Don’t be so sure. He’s not a child anymore, and she’s a very appealing young girl. I think she’s as oblivious as you are, but I don’t want anything to happen between them. I owe it to her parents to keep her safe, not just from enemy bombs, but from my son as well.” She looked genuinely worried and her husband laughed.
“You make Henry sound dangerous,” he chided her. “They’re just having fun. All he thinks about is joining the army. He’s not serious about any girl.”
“He could be very dangerous for her, if things get out of hand. We have a responsibility to the king and queen. Don’t forget that. She’s not just any girl.”
“It’s impossible to forget, my dear. Everything about her is regal. From the way she walks and the way she holds her head, to the way she speaks, and even her kindness to Lucy. There is an innate modesty and grace to the child. She’s a lovely girl, and if something did happen between them one day, I certainly wouldn’t object and you’d be foolish if you did. Wouldn’t you like to have a daughter-in-law like her?”
“Of course. I’d like nothing better. But if that’s ever to be, it has to happen in the right way, after the war. They’re both much too young, and I doubt very seriously that Their Majesties would be pleased with a surprise betrothal at this point, based on proximity and nothing more sensible. I think they’d be furious with us if something were to come of this now.”
“Wars make people grow up very quickly, and inspire deep feelings. Perhaps this is the right match for both of them,” he said, and the countess sighed again.
“It is not the right time, or the right circumstances,” she said emphatically. “I’ve tried warning Henry about that, but he has no wish to hear it, and it would be indelicate and presumptuous of me to talk to Charlotte about it. But her mother isn’t here to warn her. I think they’re both completely innocent, and falling in love. That could be dangerous for them, and for us, if Their Majesties get upset about it.”
“This isn’t the dark ages. They’re not going to lock us in the Tower, Glorianna. I think you’re unnecessarily concerned. They’re both innocents, children really, and he won’t be here for much longer. He’ll be eighteen soon enough and in the army.”
“They’ll be here long enough for them to get themselves in deep water,” she reminded her husband. The earl shook his head, got into bed, and a moment later, he was asleep. The countess lay awake, worrying about Henry and Charlotte for several hours.
She tried to speak of it discreetly to her son a few days later, and he looked shocked. “Mama, do you think I would try to seduce her? I would do no such thing.” He was deeply offended by her implication. He was a gentleman, but also a healthy young man.
“I wasn’t suggesting that you would. But you’re both very young, and love is a powerful force at your age. It could lead you into situations neither of you are prepared for, and must avoid at all costs.”
“You do Charlotte a disservice, ma’am,” he said haughtily. “She would never do something inappropriate, nor would I.” Henry was chilly with his mother for the next few days, and he never mentioned her comments to Charlotte. They were just having fun, and enjoyed riding together. All of his local friends were in the army now, and he was anxious to go too. His plans to go to university had been canceled, and would have to wait until after the war. His only friend whom he considered his equal was Charlotte. He could talk to her about almost anything, which was a first for him with a girl. She was his only close female friend or even friend of any kind now, with the war. She let him ride Pharaoh once, to see what a smooth ride he was, and he was stunned by the power of her horse, and her ability to control him with ease. She made it look effortless. She was an extraordinary horsewoman, which was only one of the many things he liked about her.
Henry’s mother continued to keep an eye on them, but there was nothing she could really complain about. She was just uneasy about how close they had become. Charlotte only mentioned him in passing in her letters to her parents, with no particular details. She didn’t think it was important, and he was leaving soon. She felt sorry for the Hemmingses about how sad she knew they would be once he was gone. He was their only child, and the light of their lives, just as Charles had said. Her mother and oldest sister had already written to her and given her the latest news from the palace and London. Charlotte pounced on the letter with glee the moment the countess handed it to her. She was starving for news of them. And they said how much they missed her too. When she finished reading her mother’s letter, she placed it in a leather box her mother had given her for papers and letters, before she left. The box was her mother’s, made of fine brown leather, with the crown embossed on it in gold and her mother’s initials in small gold letters inside. It was a reminder of home just seeing it on her desk, and warmed her heart and made her homesick at the same time. To anyone not knowing who had given it to her, the gold crown just looked li
ke a handsome decoration. The queen’s own father had given it to her on her eighteenth birthday and it was a smaller version of the daily boxes of official documents Alexandra would receive one day as queen. And now Charlotte could keep her correspondence in it, the letters from her mother and sister. Victoria hadn’t written to her yet.
* * *
—
There was a heat wave at the beginning of August, six weeks after Charlotte arrived. She felt at ease on the Hemmingses’ estate by then, and in their home. Henry took Charlotte swimming in a stream at the back of the property, near one of the farms, and they cavorted like children, splashing each other, and laughing as they doused each other. Charlotte had thought about inviting Lucy, but she had promised to stay with the countess, to clean up some of the gardens with one of the farm boys. The countess had decided to try and do what she could, and Lucy was willing to help, so Henry and Charlotte went swimming without her, and didn’t tell her where they were going so she didn’t try to join them. They felt guilty saying it, but agreed that Lucy was dreary company, although she was helpful to Henry’s mother, but no fun for them. And she couldn’t swim.
They were sitting on the bank of the stream, their horses tied to a tree, and Henry lay back in the grass, admiring her in her bathing costume.
“You’re so beautiful, Charlotte. I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” She blushed and looked away, not sure how to respond. She didn’t think of him in that way, just as a boy, and a friend.
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