“Mmm, take the month of November. I wager that you will seek unlawful carnal knowledge of me, before I come begging to be bedded.”
He laughed into her eyes. “What are the stakes?”
“If you lose because you can’t hold out, you must come naked beneath your overcoat.”
“And if you lose, will you promise to wear your fur coat again with nothing underneath?”
“You devil, James. So I’m not too decadent for you after all!”
• • •
That night at Marlborough House the royal couple congratulated Anne and James and offered toasts to their happiness at dinner. Earlier, a jeweler’s box had arrived for Lady Anne containing an emerald and diamond engagement ring. She immediately tried it on, delighted that it was not only a perfect fit, but an exquisite choice. The card read:
My darling Anne,
It was impossible to get emeralds more beautiful than your eyes, but I hope the ring pleases you nevertheless.
Yours forever,
James
Anne kept the ring on her finger and showed everyone at Marlborough House right down to the laundry women and the kitchen potboy.
At dinner she gave James back the signet ring he’d bestowed upon her and that she had been wearing on a gold chain beneath her gown.
“Have you set a wedding date yet?” Alexandra asked.
“We were thinking sometime in January, after your baby is born.”
“Anne, that is extremely thoughtful, but you mustn’t hold off your wedding until after our child is born. I will miss you so much, but I understand you want to start a family of your own. I promise to start looking for a couple of new ladies-in-waiting right away.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
THE MORNING POST
November 11, 1863
Henry Weysford Rawdon, Marquis of Hastings, died suddenly yesterday, November 10, at his home in St. James’s Place. Rawdon-Hastings, a habitué of the racetracks, recently lost a fortune on his horse Lady Elizabeth at Doncaster.
Rawdon’s father died when Henry was only two years old, and Henry succeeded to his father’s titles upon the early death of his older brother, at the age of nine. Later, Henry inherited his mother’s barony at the age of sixteen.
Earlier this year he married Lady Florence Paget. The marriage created a scandal as the bride had been engaged to Henry Chaplin, friend to the Prince of Wales.
Rawdon-Hastings was one of only three to hold peerages in all three kingdoms of England, Scotland, and Ireland.
• • •
“Oh my God, Henry Hastings is dead!” Anne passed the newspaper to her friend Frances and sat in shock.
“Wouldn’t you know they’d bring up the scandal of Florence being engaged to Chaplin? Damn newspapers delight in dishing up dirt! I wonder what he died of.”
“Florence will be in a terrible mess. I must go round to see her,” Anne declared.
“Give her my condolences. I’ll stay here with the princess.”
“In that case, perhaps I’ll stay for a couple of days if she needs me.”
Anne packed an overnight bag and explained the situation to Alix.
“Of course you must go, Anne. Take as long as you need. Don’t worry about us here at Marlborough House.”
When Anne arrived at St. James’s Place, Florence was distraught. “Thank you for coming. You’re the only one who cares enough about me.” She wiped her red-rimmed eyes, but immediately they refilled with tears.
Anne cradled her friend, then sat her down before a warm fire, and propped her feet up on a hassock. “Henry was only twenty-six. Whatever did he die from, Florence?”
“The doctor said it was his heart, but of course it was the drink that killed him.”
“I’m so sorry, Florence. Have the funeral arrangements been made?”
Florence nodded. “His funeral service is tomorrow. His sister Lady Edyth, who will inherit his English baronies, is taking care of the expenses.”
“That’s one burden off your shoulders. I’ll stay and attend the funeral with you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Anne. The service is at St. George’s in Hanover Square, where we were married. But he’s to be buried at Packington Hall, in Warwickshire. I’m not up to going all that way, and I don’t believe his sisters would welcome me.”
“Of course you’re not going all that way. It’s unthinkable.”
• • •
Princess Alexandra began interviewing young ladies from noble families who aspired to become ladies-in-waiting. But she was surprised by a morning call from Lady Sarah Mordaunt. She invited the young Scotswoman into her private sitting room, feeling slightly envious about her lovely figure. In the two months since the Mordaunts had been at Sandringham, Alexandra knew her own measurements had expanded.
“Do make yourself comfortable, Lady Mordaunt. I’ll ring for tea, or perhaps you’d like to stay for lunch?”
“Thank you, no, Your Highness. This isn’t a social call.”
Alexandra had learned to present a serene demeanor to the world, since she had been thrust into English Society, but on the inside her emotions ran riot. Certain people took delight in polite conversation that contained clever barbs, and Alix was always on guard.
“How may I help you?” she asked softly.
Sarah opened her purse, took out an envelope, and clutched it in her hand. Her lips began to quiver, and she spoke in a rush of words. “My husband is threatening to divorce me because of the Prince of Wales’s adulterous attentions.” She pressed her lips together in an effort to steady her voice. “I will be penniless. . . . I need money.” She thrust the envelope at Alexandra.
The princess took it, looked down, and saw that it was addressed to Lady Sarah Mordaunt. She opened the envelope and withdrew the letter. Alix did not read it, but saw that it was signed Teddy.
“This is just one of many letters from His Royal Highness. I’m willing to sell you the letters so you may destroy the evidence. I think ten thousand pounds is a fair price.”
Without saying a word, Alexandra put the letter back in its envelope and held it out to Lady Mordaunt.
“You may keep that one for free. It is a good example of just how incriminating Teddy’s letters are.” Sarah stood up. “I’ll give you a day to think about it, Your Highness. Please don’t delay; our time is running out. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“No, don’t return to Marlborough House, Lady Mordaunt. I will contact you.”
After her visitor departed, Alix sat for a long time without moving, deep in thought, her hands clasped protectively over her baby. Finally she arose and walked slowly to her private bedchamber. She heard someone in the adjoining dressing room and opened the door. She was relieved to see Lady Frances hanging up freshly laundered petticoats.
“Frances, do you know if your brother is here today?”
“I haven’t seen him, Your Highness. He’s likely in Parliament, or perhaps he’s house hunting.”
“Of course. It’s nothing important.” Alix returned to her chamber, and penned a quick note to Lord Hamilton. Then she summoned a messenger and asked him to deliver it to White Horse Street.
• • •
A few hours later, when Grady handed James the message from the Princess of Wales, he checked the time. It’s five, the hour when Teddy entertains one of his doxies at Jermyn Street. He told Grady that he would be dining at Marlborough House. James wanted to speak with Anne about their engagement notice. Because of Hastings’s death, perhaps she would rather hold off the announcement for a few days.
When he arrived at Marlborough House, he went straight upstairs to the private royal wing. He spotted Lady Elizabeth and asked her to see if Princess Alexandra could see him. In less than a minute, Elizabeth showed him into Alix’s sitting room.
“Your Highness, I�
�m sorry I didn’t get your note until I got home from Parliament.”
“Thank you for coming, James. Do sit down.” She went to her writing desk, took out the letter, and handed it to him.
He instantly recognized Teddy’s handwriting and when he saw it was addressed to Sarah Mordaunt, his dark brows drew together. “Shall I read it?”
When Alexandra nodded, he took the letter from the envelope and read it.
“Her husband intends to sue for divorce. Lady Mordaunt needs money. She’s offering me the rest of the letters for ten thousand pounds. I’m so sorry to involve you in this, James, but you are the only one I trust.”
“You did exactly right, Your Highness. Did she bring this today?”
Alix nodded. “She said she’d be back tomorrow. I told her not to return to Marlborough House, that I would contact her.” She pressed her lips together. “James, I want you to get the letters and burn them. Give her whatever she asks.”
“My dearest Alexandra, I will take care of the matter. I pledge it on my honor.”
James Hamilton masked his fury until he left Marlborough House. As he strode along Pall Mall, he silently vented his anger. Teddy should be hanged, drawn, and quartered! The debauched son of a bitch doesn’t deserve someone as sweet and lovely as Alexandra. He fucks anything and everything that comes within pissing distance, and as a result his Scottish piece of ass is blackmailing his wife.
James knew he could do little tonight. Tomorrow morning he would go to the bank. Blackmail could only be paid in cash. He decided the best place to make the exchange was the Jermyn Street town house. A place Sarah Mordaunt was obviously familiar with. He knew his problem would be getting a message to her without her husband’s knowledge. Since she’d been communicating with Teddy for months, there must be a way.
James decided against returning to Marlborough House for dinner. It would be difficult to dine with the Prince of Wales and not knock his teeth down his throat.
• • •
At noon the following day, Lord Hamilton let himself into the luxuriously furnished town house on Jermyn Street and waited. When he’d left home earlier in the morning, he’d taken Grady with him. After stopping at the Bank of England, he drove to Belgrave Square where the Mordaunts resided, and sent Grady to their back door with a note for Sarah and instructed him to wait for a reply.
At one o’clock, the appointed time, Sarah arrived.
“Good afternoon, Lady Mordaunt. Won’t you come in?” James led the way upstairs and offered her a seat in the drawing room.
“Why did she send you?”
“Perhaps because I’m neither as indiscreet nor as gullible as Baron Renfrew.”
Sarah tossed her head. “Do you have the money?”
“Money for what?”
“For Teddy’s letters.”
“How many letters did you receive from the Prince of Wales?”
“Ten altogether.” She took the bundle of letters from her purse.
“How do I know you don’t have more letters you intend to use for blackmail?”
“I don’t have more. I want to get rid of them. I don’t want my husband to find them.”
“So you believe they’re worth a thousand pounds apiece?”
“I need the money. Sir Charles has threatened to divorce me.”
“I have a cashier’s check for five thousand pounds. . . . If the letters are authentic.”
“James, I need—”
“Kindly address me as Lord Hamilton.” He held out his hand. “May I see them?”
With a wary look she handed him the bundle of letters.
James noted the dates, and saw that the first letter was from shortly after the first dinner party at Marlborough House. The last letter was dated the first week of October, when the prince had returned from Sandringham. “There are only nine letters here.”
“The Princess of Wales has the other one.”
“Five thousand. Take it or leave it.”
Without a word, she took the cashier’s check and put it in her purse.
“Good afternoon, Lady Mordaunt.”
When he was alone, James read the letters, and then he burned them.
• • •
James attended the afternoon session in Parliament, where everyone was agog over the untimely death of the young Marquis of Hastings. Rumors abounded that Lady Elizabeth, the horse he had entered at Doncaster, had been drugged, and a few members were speculating that perhaps Rawdon had committed suicide.
When James left the Commons, he went directly to Marlborough House, where he was in time to escort the Princess of Wales into the dining room for dinner.
He held out his arm and his warm brown eyes met Alexandra’s. “The matter has been taken care of, Your Highness.”
“Thank you, James.” Her eyes told him how much she appreciated his help.
“It is my honor to serve you, ma’am.”
The prince was there before them, and James escorted Alexandra to her seat beside her husband. His sister arrived and James held her chair, then sat down next to her.
“Anne went to be with our friend Florence. Hastings’s funeral service was today, so I don’t expect Anne back until tomorrow.”
James nodded. I should have been there with her. “You didn’t attend?”
“I didn’t approve of her marriage to Rawdon. All that nonsense about following her heart brought her nothing but grief.”
“Frances, she is your friend,” he said quietly. Obviously, loyalty isn’t as high on your priority list as it is on mine.
James observed the Prince of Wales downing oysters on the half shell. My loyalty compels me to warn Teddy what is afoot. He doesn’t seem to have a care in the world.
After dinner, James followed the prince to the billiard room. He waited until Teddy lit his cigar. “Charles Mordaunt is about to sue his wife for divorce. Best stay away from Jermyn Street for the present.”
Teddy looked startled. “Surely it’s just rumor? Divorce is a drastic step to take.”
“But not unheard of, if he has proof of adultery.”
“Proof?” He blew out a cloud of smoke and began to cough.
“Witnesses . . . confessions . . . letters . . . that sort of thing.” I hope you’re sweating blood!
James, hungry for the sight of Anne, after the distasteful day he’d had, left Marlborough House and walked over to St. James’s Place.
He was amazed to find Florence and Anne sitting alone in the drawing room. “Lady Florence, please accept my heartfelt condolences for your loss.” He took her hands and placed a gentle kiss on her brow. “I expected a full house.”
“They left,” Florence said sadly. “Only a few came.”
“Anne, I’m so glad you are here to comfort your friend.” He turned to Florence. “I just stopped by to see if there is anything you need.”
“Thank you. I can’t think. I feel numb,” Florence said helplessly.
“That’s shock. You need rest. It won’t start to wear off for a few days.”
Anne walked to the door with James. “I’ll stay tonight and return to Marlborough House tomorrow.” She twisted her lovely diamond and emerald ring on her finger. “It feels wrong that I’m so happy when Florence is so sad.”
“It’s not wrong, sweetheart.” He drew her close. “But I’m glad our engagement wasn’t announced in the paper just yet. It would have seemed inappropriate.” He kissed her tenderly. “Good night, love. Think happy thoughts.”
• • •
Two days later, the Prince of Wales summoned James to Marlborough House. Teddy took him into the library and shut the door. “I’m in a god-awful position, James. Aylesford told me today that Charles Mordaunt intends to name me correspondent in his divorce trial!”
“Adultery must be proven, sire.”
“I cannot be dragged into court! I am the Prince of Wales. It is unthinkable.”
“You need an attorney to advise you, Your Highness.”
“Attorney be damned. There isn’t a lawyer living I would trust. What I need you to do is go to Mordaunt and offer him money, or a knighthood, or whatever he’s after.”
“He’s obviously after revenge.” James shook his head. “I have no intention of trying to bribe the man; that would be tantamount to admitting your guilt, and playing right into his hands.”
“Then what the hellfire do you propose I do?” Teddy demanded.
“When in doubt, do nothing.”
“Nothing?” The prince poured himself a glass of whiskey and downed it.
“You need do nothing, unless or until you are served with papers.”
“You think that Mordaunt may not go that far?”
“Sir Charles Mordaunt is ruthless. He put his own Warwickshire tenants out of their cottages when they tried to join the Labourers’ Union.”
“Most landowners are against unions. What does that have to do with me?”
“Nothing. I was merely illustrating the depth of his vindictiveness. That’s why I advised you to keep away from Jermyn Street. And above all, you must have no contact with Sarah Mordaunt,” James warned.
“You need have no fear on that score. A pox on the little whore!”
• • •
Anne recognized James’s elegant writing on the envelope that a messenger delivered. Her pulse quickened as she tore it open and read the note.
My darling Anne,
If you can get away after lunch, meet me outside Marlborough House. There is a property I am going to look at and of course I prefer that we see it together.
Love, James
She hoped the house was in Mayfair, where both their families had always lived, but she knew that James could be unconventional. She decided to wear her fur coat, since the November day was chilly, and there was a cold wind coming off the Thames.
After lunch she emerged from Marlborough House and saw that James was there awaiting her. As he helped her into his carriage, his glance swept her from head to foot. “I hope you are wearing something warmer than last time beneath that fur.”
Lord Rakehell Page 37