Simon came and joined his friend in pacing the room.
‘Have you got the rings?’ Alex was suddenly worried.
Simon reached into his jacket pocket and produced the matched pair of boxes. ‘I have,’ he declared.
‘And your speech?’
Simon tapped his head and said, ‘It’s all up there, I hope.’
Their guests started to arrive at about 2.30pm, most of whom Alex did not know. Commander Jeffers came in wearing a very formal, high-necked naval tailcoat, with so many medals and so much gold braid that one could have mistaken him for an admiral. Colonel Swann entered in a civilian suit, trying to blend in with the crowd; Beatrice and Prince Mikhail arrived in a flurry.
Just before 2.50pm, Alex’s mother came and told him that Teddy had arrived, but she was in another room with her father and Cordelia. The registrar’s assistant came and collected Alex and his party, and ensured that all were properly seated in an orderly manner. The wedding room was decorated tastefully, with pale-blue, regency-striped wallpaper; deep-blue velvet curtains; a gloriously decadent chandelier; and highly polished, deep-mahogany furniture. It also had fresh flower arrangements placed carefully around the room on pedestals and on the registrar’s desk. The ambience created was vastly more opulent than the blandness of the waiting room.
The registrar spoke to Alex to ensure that he knew what was going to happen during the ceremony, and Alex assured him that he had read the booklet repeatedly, and he knew what he had to do off by heart. The registrar smiled; he had heard this before, but nerves often took over, and even the best-prepared couple sometimes floundered.
He merely said, ‘Follow me, and I will guide you… I have done this before, you know!’ and smiled again.
Alex felt more relaxed as he and Simon sat in the front row of seats to the right.
There was a knock at the door, and the registrar rose and indicated that Alex and Simon should do likewise. Alex turned as soft piped music began playing Elgar’s ‘Triumphal March’ from Caractacus, and all those present stood for Teddy’s arrival. If he had been expecting the more traditional bridal march, he was not disappointed with the alternative; Richard Wagner was, after all, German.
Teddy looked sensational in a simple, white gown with discreet gold-filigree embroidery, studded with seed pearls, around the neckline, which accentuated her loveliness perfectly; just above her left breast was the sweetheart brooch that he had bought her.
Teddy’s father had, indeed, dusted off his uniform, and he looked resplendent in the formal, dark-blue frockcoat of a brigadier, with heavy, gold epaulettes. His double row of medals, showing a Distinguished Service Order (DSO) at the fore, all clinked as he escorted his daughter towards the registrar; even on this happy occasion, he looked stern, and the rigidity of his slow march did nothing to help.
Alex realised that with a DSO to his name, the heroic act must have been greater than he had been led to believe. As Teddy came level with Alex, her father relinquished his grip on her arm, smiled briefly at his daughter to give her courage, and, looking at Alex, nodded perfunctorily before taking a pace backwards.
The registrar called the ceremony to order, ‘Ladies, and gentlemen…’
There was an almost imperceptible noise as the door opened and closed quietly as a latecomer took their seat, but nobody turned to see whose poor manners had prevented punctuality.
The registrar continued, ‘We are gathered here to join together this man and this woman in matrimony…’
Much of what followed was a blur, and Alex’s attentiveness only recovered when the piped music began, playing ‘King William’s March’ by Jeremiah Clarke, to signify that the marriage ceremony was over. Presumably, he was now married.
Alex and Teddy shook hands with the registrar and processed out, leading Simon and Cordelia, Teddy’s parents, and Alex’s mother with Uncle Walter. The assistant thoughtfully showed Alex and Teddy into a side room to sign the register, and to allow the guests to gather in the King’s Road for the traditional showering of the bride and groom with confetti, petals or rice.
XXX
The drive between the King’s Road and Piccadilly is only two miles in distance, but Alex and Teddy scarcely noticed it. As soon as they got into the Rolls-Royce to continue to their wedding breakfast, they revelled in their new-found status.
‘So, what does it feel like to be Mrs Alex Carlton?’ enquired Alex.
‘About as normal as it would feel for you to be known as Mr Theodora Palmer!’ Teddy conjectured, ‘Honestly, I am unused to it, but it is growing on me.’
They laughed and chatted about the day’s events. Teddy was particularly interested in Alex’s sword, and when he explained the history behind his uncle’s gift, she was even more spellbound.
‘Who on earth was that elderly man who arrived late and sat at the back of the room?’ Alex asked.
‘I truthfully have no idea,’ replied Teddy, and Alex got the distinct impression that the unknown guest had not even registered with Teddy.
‘He was sitting on your side,’ Alex recalled.
‘Then it was probably somebody whom my parents invited; I did not actually pay that much attention. Perhaps it was my long-lost uncle who is a multimillionaire and who has come to our wedding to bestow his fortune upon us?’ Teddy conjectured.
‘If he was, I think he might have dressed better.’ Alex put the subject to bed and thought no more about the mystery man.
As the car glided to a halt outside The Berkeley’s main entrance, the doorman opened the car door, and both Teddy and Alex were assisted by the head concierge, who advised them that the Albert Room had been set aside for their wedding breakfast, but, before that, there was a champagne reception in the attached private bar.
‘Would Mr and Mrs Carlton care to freshen up before meeting their guests?’ the head concierge asked.
Hearing herself referred to as such caused Teddy to giggle. ‘Yes, please,’ she responded.
‘The bridal suite is on the third floor,’ confirmed the concierge. He handed Alex a large brass key fob attached to an equally large key. ‘I shall hold your guests back until you are ready to receive them.’
Alex and Teddy caught the lift to the third floor, and, on opening the door to the bridal suite, were pleasantly surprised by the sheer luxurious nature of the room. A large four-poster bed dominated the bedroom, and the furnishings were straight from Thomas Chippendale’s The Gentleman and Cabinet-Maker’s Director. On opening the wardrobe, both Alex and Teddy were glad to see two packed suitcases, and a favoured item from each of their wardrobes hanging on coat hangers, ready for their departure tomorrow, so they had something less formal to wear.
‘Our parents have been busy,’ Teddy commented.
‘Come here, my darling,’ Alex asked.
Teddy smiled. ‘We do not have time!’
‘That must be an all-time record,’ Alex noted.
‘What is?’
‘We have been married for less than an hour, and you have broken your matrimonial vows already!’ Alex sounded hurt.
‘Which vow?’ Teddy was keen to know.
‘The one about obeying your husband. I say again, come here.’
Teddy complied and went to him, and he slipped his arms around her, drew her to him and kissed her full on the lips while reaching into his jacket pocket at the same time. Alex carefully removed a box, which he opened dexterously with one hand and from which he produced a diamond-encrusted platinum pendant; releasing her, he lifted it up to her neck, fastened it behind, and said, ‘For you, my darling; congratulations on your wedding day. There’s a pair of earrings in the box as well.’
‘Oh, Alex, they are splendid. Thank you so much. I would wear them now, but this…’ she showed the necklace that she was already wearing, ‘is what Mummy wore on her wedding day, and is my “something borrowed”, so I had better
keep it on.’
She pulled Alex towards her and kissed him harder on the mouth, while pushing him back towards the bed, causing him to trip on his sword, and they sprawled across the bed laughing uncontrollably.
After regaining their composure, Alex and Teddy washed their hands, and Teddy reapplied her make-up, before going downstairs to welcome their guests.
Alex and Teddy entered the Albert Room and formed a line with Teddy’s parents, Alex’s mother and Uncle Walter. The guests filed past, and the majority were unknown to Alex, and although Teddy introduced him to them, he found it very difficult to remember their names. Alex introduced Commander Jeffers and Colonel Swann as colleagues rather than superior officers, and everybody trooped past until the only man left was the elderly gentlemen who had arrived late and sat at the back of the ceremony.
He approached and congratulated them both, but nobody appeared to know who he was, so he introduced himself in Russian. ‘Esteemed Count Aleksander Nikolayevich Karlov, my name is Dmitry Sergeyevich Obolensky,’ he said, ‘I have been sent by the Russian Monarchist Union to bring felicitations on your wedding from His Highness the Grand Duke Kirill Vladimirovich, and to bring news of your father.’
When Alex’s mother heard Russian spoken, she came closer – staggered that there was news of her husband – and gripped Alex’s arm for support. Uncle Walter at once grasped the significance of Obolensky’s words, but Teddy and her family understood nothing.
Uncle Walter took charge and invited the assembled guests to bear with them for a moment while a matter of some importance was discussed. He assured the guests wittily that this was a private matter, and not the prelude to the bride and groom seeking a divorce. Uncle Walter promised that the issue would not take long to resolve and that the hosts would return quickly. He charged Simon with ensuring that the guests were kept happy, and also with finding Prince Mikhail and bringing him to them, preferably without Beatrice, in the hope that he would act as translator, enabling Teddy and her parents to be active in any discussions. He sent word to the head concierge to ask if there was a private room they could use for a few moments, and he showed the bridal party into a large meeting room.
When they had gathered, Uncle Walter asked Obolensky to prove that he was an approved messenger of the Soyuz Russkih Monarkhistov (Russian Monarchist Union), and Obolensky reached behind his lapel and withdrew a pin with an unusual motif affixed to the top, which he passed to Uncle Walter, who looked at it and returned it to him. Uncle Walter asked for the words that accompanied the pin.
Obolensky responded, ‘V temnote vse koshki sery. [In the dark, all cats are grey.]’
Uncle Walter appeared satisfied.
Obolensky reached into his inside pocket and extracted an envelope, heavily sealed with red wax and bearing the Russian Imperial Cypher. He spoke in Russian, which Prince Mikhail translated for those who did not understand the language. ‘I am commanded by His Highness the Grand Duke Kirill Vladimirovich to hand this document to Count Aleksander Nikolayevich Karlov, son of the late Count Nikolai Aleksandrovich Karlov, with whom I had the honour to serve alongside in the service of his Imperial Majesty Tsar Nikolai II.’ He bowed his head and handed the sealed document to Alex before continuing to explain that the grand duke sent warmest felicitations to Alex and Teddy, Alex’s mother, and Uncle Walter, then included Prince Mikhail as an afterthought.
He began his story by explaining that, during the October Revolution of 1917, many army units deserted to the Bolsheviks, but the Dragoon Guards – in which Alex’s father had served – remained loyal to the tsar and rode east to join forces with Admiral Alexander Vasilyevich Kolchak as he drove towards Moscow. As they pushed westwards, they took the city of Chelyabinsk in April 1918, and the admiral received intelligence that the Imperial family had been moved to the city of Yekaterinburg, about 200 kilometres north of their current position. Believing that the majority of the Bolshevik forces would be deployed to protect the town from the east, the admiral sent a sizeable raiding party north to attack the town from the south and to liberate the Royal family. The raiding party made good progress until they reached the town of Snezhinsk, where the Bolsheviks had dug in.
Obolensky described how Alex’s father had been killed at Snezhinsk, and how he had witnessed a good friend and honourable man give his life in a bid to rescue the Imperial family. He explained that this act of courage had led Prince Mikhail’s great-uncle, the Grand Duke Nikolay Nikolayevich to posthumously award Alex’s father with the Imperial Order of Saint Stanislaus, First Class.
Uncle Walter demanded to know why it had taken so long for the news to reach the Countess Tatiana Ivanovna and her son.
Obolensky explained that it was due to circumstance. After Admiral Kolchak and General Denikin were defeated, there was disarray among those loyal to the tsar. He told how he escaped to Italy eventually in 1922, where he found the Grand Duke Nikolay Nikolayevich in exile, and he described his exploits since fleeing Russia; it was then that the grand duke conferred the posthumous order. Obolensky clarified that his loyalty to the motherland was also rewarded.
He went on to say that he had served the Grand Duke Nikolay Nikolayevich until his death in 1929. Afterwards, he remained in Italy with his wife, until 1938 when, because of the worsening situation in Italy, he began a journey to Paris to swear allegiance to the Grand Duke Kirill Vladimirovich, who had assumed the mantle of Curator of the Throne some years earlier. He had carried with him the remaining decrees that had been awarded by the old grand duke. His journey had been long and wearisome, as he was no longer a young man, and he had arrived in Paris only a few weeks ago.
Obolensky explained that it was then that he learned that the wife and son of his old friend had escaped and were under the protection of the union. Grand Duke Kirill Vladimirovich ordered him to travel to London to present his compliments to the dowager countess (he nodded at Alex’s mother, who was holding onto her son and Uncle Walter), and to His Highness Count Aleksander Nikolayevich Karlov and his bride, the countess.
He regretted that his news brought sadness on such a happy occasion, but explained that his orders were to proceed “without delay”, and that he had only arrived in London the previous day.
Alex declared in Russian, ‘Dmitry Sergeyevich, our friend, you have done extremely well, and you have brought confirmation of the news that my family have expected for many years; for that, I thank you, even though your news brings the sadness that I shall never know my father. The account of your adventures has informed me that my father died a valiant death fighting for something in which he believed, and that brings immense comfort to me personally and to my family. Thank you for the dispatches that you have brought. I insist that you to remain as an honoured guest at our wedding, and I beseech you that if my family can render you a service in any way, we shall be happy to do so as we are most assuredly in your debt. You were a good and true friend to my father; please, let his son extend the hand of friendship to you now.’ Alex held out his hand, and Obolensky took it respectfully.
Prince Mikhail who was translating for those who did not speak Russian, chipped in with, ‘Hear, hear.’
Alex then said to the wedding party in English, ‘Come, we have neglected our guests for too long; let us return to the celebrations in good spirits.’ He took Teddy by the arm and guided her back to the Albert Room.
On the way, she asked, ‘What did all that mean?’
‘It means, my darling, that as of a few moments ago, you are no longer Mrs Alexander Carlton.’
Teddy looked perplexed until Alex looked at her, smiling, and said, ‘You are officially the Countess Theodora Alice Mary Karlova; what an exciting day you are having!’
The newlyweds returned to their guests and waited for Simon to announce them. Even though it seemed as though they had been absent for ages, it had been for little more than fifteen minutes.
Just as the guests were calle
d to welcome the bridal party, Teddy’s father drew Alex aside, and asked, ‘Did what I think just happened just happen?’
Alex smiled at him and said, ‘I rather think so, sir!’
‘Good God! What a peculiar family my daughter has married into!’ was all he could find to say.
Alex led him gently back to his wife, who was ready to be paraded into the dining room.
*
There had been far too much excitement that afternoon for anything else that occurred to raise even a tremor on the gauge of the incredible. When Teddy left Cavendish Court, she was merely a young bride eager to marry her beau, and, in the space of a mere few hours, she had attained the lower echelons of Imperial Russian nobility. She had become a countess, no less, and the daughter-in-law of a hero who gave his life nobly – attempting to save the life of the last true Emperor of Russia and the Imperial family – and a man whose deeds earned him the merit of being invested with a high chivalric order. She wondered what sort of man her father-in-law had been, and made a mental note to talk with her mother-in-law, the dowager countess, about him.
At precisely 7.00pm, the doors to the Albert Room opened, and a chef wearing meticulous kitchen whites and an impossibly starched toque entered, pushing a trolley on which was a splendid three-tier wedding cake. It had obviously been a prearranged cue as Simon tapped his glass with a knife, and he called the room to order for the speeches.
Following convention, Teddy’s father stood to deliver the “father of the bride” speech, and Alex felt his wife stiffen slightly at the prospect of what he might say. She need not have worried. He spoke warmly of his daughter, and said he hoped that, in the ensuing years, he and his wife would get to know Alex’s family better, as they certainly seemed “interesting”. He raised his glass and bade the room toast the bride and groom.
Alex rose and thanked his father-in-law for such a generous speech, and, rather boringly, merely commented on how beautiful Teddy looked, as did Cordelia, and how well his best man had acquitted himself during the afternoon. He raised his glass and toasted Cordelia, the only bridesmaid. His speech was greeted with polite applause, for it was hardly a noteworthy speech, and he sat down.
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