A Kiss for the King

Chapter One 1860-2

The performers and the orchestra had been brought down to Windsor by special train, but they were unfortunately taken back again immediately afterwards, leaving her no chance to talk to them and learn a little about their lives. Everyone’s life, she had often thought to herself, was more exciting – and certainly less monotonous – than hers.

It was a joy to talk to new acquaintances whom she met at the Castle, and she laughed merrily at the Prince Consort who, when he was in a good humour, made puns and invented riddles.

Besides this, Anastasia found that, when he talked seriously on Naval matters and scientific subjects, she could always learn something that she wished to know.

Because the rest of the year had been so quiet and indeed so dull, she found everything at Windsor Castle amusing, even playing ‘spillikins’ with the younger children or the new ‘round’ game, main jaune, over which they would grow quite noisy, until the Queen called them to order.

What she had enjoyed more than anything else tonight was the reels or Scottish jigs, which she had danced with both spirit and grace, even though she was certain her mother would take her to task for it tomorrow.

“You must behave in a more circumspect manner,” the Princess Beatrice would continually say to her daughter. But Anastasia could not help feeling that when she was old there would be time to behave in a circumspect manner, while for the moment she wished to enjoy herself.

“Well, have you made up your mind?” Viscount Lyncombe asked.

“You know quite well I have not,” Anastasia replied. “I cannot just run off like that without giving it proper consideration.”

“If I had any sense I would compel you to come with me,” the Viscount said. “What was that fellow in the poem called who snatched up a girl, threw her across his saddle and galloped away with her?”

“You mean Young Lochinvar,” Anastasia told him.

“He may have had an extremely stupid name, but he had the right idea.”

“I am not being carried away on your saddle – which I am sure would be very uncomfortable,” Anastasia said positively, “and without any gowns or any of the things I need to make myself look attractive.”

“You look lovely whatever you wear,” the Viscount said.

Now there was a deep note in his voice and a look in his eyes that made Anastasia feel a little shy.

At the same time it was fun to think she could so emotionally move the boy who had always teased her until at one period in her life he had made her hate him for it.

The ball was coming to an end, and as the couples that had been dancing stood facing each other, the Viscount said,

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Early in the morning, I think,” Anastasia replied. “The Queen will have had enough of us by then.”

“I will call on you tomorrow evening. I will bring a message from my mother, or it should not be too hard to think of some other excuse.”

“Find out everything you can,” Anastasia said. “I wonder if anyone has spoken to Mama about it?”

She was to learn almost as soon as they left the Castle the next morning that the Grand Duchess was, in fact, fully cognisant of what was being planned.

“I want to talk to you, Anastasia,” she said, almost as soon as the Royal carriage that was to carry them to Hampton Court Palace had passed through the gates of the Castle and was proceeding down the hill towards the river.

“What about?” Anastasia asked, with a wide-eyed look of innocence.

“Your marriage.”

“My marriage, Mama?”

“The Queen would have spoken to you about it herself,” the Grand Duchess went on, “but she decided it would be best for me to talk to you first and explain how very fortunate you are.”

Anastasia said nothing. She had learnt from long experience that it was a mistake to interrupt her mother once she had something she wished to express.

“As you have been well educated, Anastasia,” the Grand Duchess continued, “there is no need for me to explain to you the political difficulties which face this country from French aggression and the terrible threat of invasion from those who we once thought were our friends.”

“I do realise that, Mama,” Anastasia said meekly.

“The balance of power in Europe is therefore of extreme importance and the French must not be allowed to acquire any more territory than they own at the moment.”

“No, of course not, Mama.”

“And that is why Maurona must be encouraged to remain independent by having a Queen whose sympathies are British.”

The Grand Duchess spoke the last words very slowly to make them sound as impressive as possible, and after a moment’s silence Anastasia asked quietly,

“How does that affect me, Mama?”

“You, Anastasia, have been chosen by the Queen to be the bride of King Maximilian!”

Before Anastasia could speak, the Grand Duchess said quickly,

“I know this will be a shock to you, and I know too, Anastasia, that you will be deeply distressed at the thought of having to leave me and England. But this represents all I have ever longed for where you are concerned. And I know that, were he alive, your dear Papa would rejoice, as I shall do, at the thought of your taking your place amongst the crowned heads of Europe.”

“Why has the Queen chosen me, Mama?” Anastasia asked.

There was a moment’s pause as if the Grand Duchess debated with herself whether she should tell the truth, and then with an unexpected smile she said frankly,

“You are much the prettiest Princess available!” Anastasia laughed.

“Having seen the others, Mama, I must protest that it is not saying much!”

The Grand Duchess looked away from her daughter’s amused face to say a little severely,

“King Maximilian is known to be very fastidious. It was not possible to send him someone he would not have admired or who would not grace the throne of Maurona.”

She was remembering, as she spoke, how the Queen had said,

“Anastasia is really too young and from all I have heard, far too frivolous for such an important position, but there is no one else. The Prince Consort and I have looked into the matter very thoroughly, and we can find no one who is both eligible for the position and who has the sort of attractiveness which, I am certain, Maximilian would consider essential in his wife.”

“I am, of course, ma’am, very gratified by your choice,” the Grand Duchess had said humbly.

She could not help feeling a little triumphant at the fact that the Queen had chosen Anastasia for such a responsible position.

Ever since the Grand Duke had been killed in an accident four years after their marriage, Princess Beatrice had made her home in England.

Hohlenstein had been annexed peacefully and without opposition by Prussia, and she had come back to her own country, bringing her only child aged two.

She had very little money, and as a Grand Duchess without a husband or a Duchy, she had no official position except in respect of her Royal blood and her relationship with the Queen.

She had been given a ‘Grace and Favour’ house in Hampton Court Palace, but she had always been made to feel she was the ‘poor relation’ and that she and Anastasia were dependent entirely on the benevolence and patronage of Queen Victoria.

The Queen had allotted a thousand rooms in the beautiful Tudor Palace as apartments for the widows or children of distinguished servants of the Crown, or Royal dependents.

Built by Cardinal Wolsey, the Palace had been given by him to Henry VIII, who married two of his wives there.

Princess Beatrice had truly loved her husband, and if she had mourned him excessively there had been little alternative and no inducements for her to do anything else.

The other occupants of the Grace and Favour houses were mostly very old, and it was only as Anastasia grew up that her mother realised what a restricted and monotonous existence they both endured.

Occasionally, perhaps once a year, they were invited to stay at Windsor Castle. The Grand Duchess received a few invitations to State occasions at Buckingham Palace. But as far as Anastasia was concerned, there were lessons with her Governesses and Tutors, and little else to occupy her time.

The Grand Duchess had a few friends remaining from her girlhood days who occasionally asked her to stay, although they usually found a woman without a husband was difficult to fit into their house parties.

The Coombes were an exception, and when her childhood friend invited the Grand Duchess, Anastasia went with her.

The Grand Duchess would not have been a woman if she had not sometimes wondered whether it would be possible for Anastasia to make a match with the wealthy and charming only son of the Earl and Countess of Coombe.

But she had known it was only an insubstantial dream because Anastasia, as a Royal Princess, could not marry without the consent of the Queen, and Her Majesty always said categorically that no Royal personage should ever marry a man not of Royal blood.

But now Anastasia was to be a Queen, and the Grand Duchess felt her heart overflowing with gratitude for the fate that had brought this unexpected bounty to them both when she had least expected it.

“I wonder what would happen if I refused?” Anastasia said in a clear voice as the carriage passed by Eton College.

Through the window she could see the beautiful Tudor redbrick buildings that had housed the sons of gentlemen for centuries.

“Refused?” her mother ejaculated. “What can you mean, Anastasia?”

“Do you not think it rather barbarous, Mama, in this day and age, when we are supposed to be democratic, when men fight and die for freedom, that a woman can be ordered to marry a man she has never seen or spoken to?”

“How can you say anything so ridiculous?” the Grand Duchess asked. “You know as well as I do that Royal marriages are always arranged, as are indeed those of the aristocracy in civilised countries.”

“I do not call it very civilised,” Anastasia sighed. “In fact if you ask me, Mama, I think it is rather like being sold across the counter of a shop.”

She laughed as she went on,

“The Queen has in effect said to King Maximilian, ‘you want protection and help from England? Well, in that case, we will send you one of our very special brides packed up neatly in the Union Jack’.”

“Anastasia! You will give me a heart attack!” the Grand Duchess exclaimed in a faint voice. “If the Queen heard you speak like that, she would be furious – absolutely furious!”

“I am not likely to say it in front of her, Mama,” Anastasia replied. “I am only telling you what I think.”

“Then do not think it, Anastasia. Can you not realise what a wonderful opportunity this is for you?”

Anastasia did not reply, and the Grand Duchess gave a little sigh.

“I know, dearest, how dull it has been for you these past few months since you have grown up. I had hoped that after you had been presented in the spring the Queen might make a special effort to ask you to dinners and parties at Buckingham Palace. But she did nothing about it.”

“I do not think Her Majesty approves of me, Mama,” Anastasia said blithely. “They always say she does not like anyone too pretty about the place.”

“Anastasia!” the Grand Duchess exclaimed again.

“It is true! You know perfectly well that ever since the scandal of Lady Flora Hastings, when they thought the poor woman was having a baby, but in fact she died of cancer, the Queen has been frightened of pretty Ladies-in-Waiting.”

“How can you speak of that regrettable and unfortunate episode?” the Grand Duchess enquired in shocked tones. “Who told you about it?”

“As you and everyone else in Hampton Court Palace whispered about it for years, of course I heard about it,” Anastasia replied. “And, as you know, Lady Flora’s aunt lives only three doors away from us.”

“She should not have related anything that happened before you were born,” the Grand Duchess protested.

“Old people have long memories,” Anastasia said shrewdly, “and they always like to talk about things which happened when they were young. I was only telling you, Mama, why the Queen does not like me.”

“It does not matter whether the Queen likes you or not. Anastasia,” the Grand Duchess snapped. “She has shown that she has your well-being at heart, and that is all that matters. What is more, Her Majesty has actually offered to help me with your trousseau.”