In the Shadow of a Queen, page 32
Nothing got past her John. “You,” she said.
The next knock was louder and wiped the smile from Louise’s face.
“Your Royal Highness,” came Lady Jane’s voice through the door. “Her Majesty has arrived at Claremont.”
Louise bolted upright in bed. “What?” she gasped. She grabbed for her robe that was on the floor. Drawing it on, she hurried to the door and cracked it open. “What is Mama doing here?”
Lady Jane stood a few feet from the door, her face decidedly flushed. “Her Majesty said she’s come to ensure that you are well.”
Louise closed her eyes. Behind her, John rummaged around, likely getting dressed. “Tell her we’ll be down shortly.”
Lady Jane curtseyed, then turned away. Louise shut the door and leaned her forehead against it.
“We should have gone straight to the train station and headed out of England,” John said, right behind her. He ran his hands down her arms. “But since we cannot, we will dress and greet your mother.”
Louise turned and buried her face against his chest. He’d slipped on a shirt, and the fabric was cool against her heated cheek. “Mama will scrutinize me from head to toe. She’ll want to know if you’ve made me happy.”
John’s hands moved up her back. “What will you tell her?”
She sighed against him. “I will tell her that I am the happiest I’ve ever been.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I think I need to be part of this conversation.”
Louise drew away from him. “Well, you are my husband, and we must do all things together now.”
“I agree.” John leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Now, let me help you with your clothing so we don’t keep Her Majesty waiting.”
Louise and John found the queen settled in the drawing room, tea spread before her. This was a good sign, Louise decided, because it appeared that she wasn’t staying the night but would be returning to Windsor today.
“My darling Loosy,” Mama said when Louise entered. “How is my beloved daughter?”
Louise curtseyed, then bent to kiss her mother. “I am well.”
Mama made no secret of examining her while keeping their hands clasped. “Are you still feeling ill?”
“I just had a pesky cold,” Louise said. “John has taken good care of me though.”
At that point, the queen finally turned her attention to John. He bowed deeply and said, “It’s a pleasure to have you at Claremont, Your Majesty.”
She held out her hand, and he bent to kiss it. Then she folded her hands in her lap and leaned back to survey them both. “I have been worried about you up here by yourselves. There are so many things going on at Windsor, and everyone misses Louise.”
Louise wanted to argue, but she wouldn’t do so in front of John. Everyone knew—the entire country, in fact—that Louise was on her honeymoon, and they supported it.
But Mama seemed to be in her own world now that she’d seen that Louise was perfectly well. “You have many official duties to attend to, my dear. Duties that your husband will be supportive of, I am sure.”
“Of course, ma’am,” John murmured.
His response wasn’t necessary, for the queen continued to speak. “The Emperor Napoleon has arrived and needs our compassion. He’s looking forward to being received by you.”
Louise only nodded. She wanted to say something about how it was fortunate he hadn’t attended her wedding, with his sworn enemy’s family there—which happened to be the queen’s own son-in-law.
“I will do what I can before we depart for Europe,” Louise said matter-of-factly. “Everything else will have to wait until my return.”
Frisky ran into the room before Mama could bemoan the honeymoon once again. The terrier offered the needed distraction, and soon the queen’s mood seemed much lighter. When she left, hours later, Louise didn’t know whether she needed to apologize to John or not. He’d been perfectly amicable toward Mama, like he always was, but she wanted to know his thoughts—his true thoughts.
Once they were alone again, after having dinner with Lady Jane and Colonel McNeill, Louise said, “At least Mama did not stay overnight.” She was standing before the window, watching the setting sun cast its net of gold and orange across the parkland. John came up behind her and slipped his arms about her waist.
She leaned back, letting the warmth of his arms encircle her.
“She’s a mother who worries about her daughter,” John said in a gentle voice. “Although she does go to quite the extremes sometimes, I can’t fault her for the love she has for her children.”
“How are you so wonderful?” Louise said.
John rested his chin atop her head. “Keep thinking that, dear Louise. The longer you are blind to my faults, the better.”
She turned in his arms to face him. “You know what I am most excited about?”
“Our honeymoon throughout Europe, where you’ll see world-famous sculptures?”
“No,” she said. “I mean, I am very much looking forward to that, but I can’t wait until we visit your Scotland home and I can learn more about your origins. I carry your name now, you know, and it will be my home too someday.”
John smoothed a bit of hair from her face with gentle fingers. “They will love you. Everyone will. You’re vibrant and beautiful, and I’ll have to keep locking doors to secure us some privacy.”
“We’re used to that already, are we not?”
John lowered his forehead to hers. “I wish we could bypass Windsor altogether. I don’t imagine I’ll have much time alone with you there.”
“I wish we could too,” she said. “But the plans are set, and anything different will cause too great of an upheaval.” She pushed up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for your patience.”
“I am happy to be patient, my love, but I’ll need more than a kiss on the cheek as compensation.”
Louise laughed, then she kissed him on the other cheek. Only when he drew her tight against him did she kiss him fully.
Windsor was exactly as John had predicted. They might have shared a bedroom, but they rarely saw each other except for at meals. Mama kept Louise so busy working as personal secretary again that she missed one of the Drawing Rooms held at Buckingham Palace in which many had come to see the new bride.
Louise was allowed to attend the opening of the Royal Albert Hall in South Kensington, and she loved having John at her side now. Still the focus of the news reports, the wedding and the white dress she wore were described in newspapers the following day.
The day of their departure to Europe was crisp, and Bertie showed up to accompany them to the train station. Louise supposed that it was his way of offering peace with John. It also helped with Mama, who had declared that it was a sad day and that Louise leaving would create a terrible emptiness in her life.
Once inside the carriage, Bertie kept up a jovial chatter, reminding Louise of how her brother used to be before so many other things had weighed their family down. He’d been such a good friend to her in their youth. All the complaints about John seemed to have faded away, although Bertie appeared to be assessing the man.
“Now, when you return, don’t let Mama monopolize all of your time,” Bertie said as they drew near the train that would take them to their first connection in Dover. The smell of cinders was sharp in the air, mixed with sooty steam. “You and Lord Lorne will be invited to many events now, ones that Mama refuses to attend any longer. It will be nice to have another royal representative I can rely on.”
“What about Helena and Christian?” she asked. “They’re perfectly capable.”
Bertie shook his head, but he was smiling. “Who do you think I’d rather introduce as my sister? Lively, beautiful Louise or quiet, dull Helena?”
Louise smirked. “Helena might be quiet, but she’s far from dull.”
“Says you.”
“John, tell my brother that he can’t disparage one of his sisters.”
Bertie raised his hands. “I’m not disparaging anyone. I’m merely paying you a compliment and speaking the truth at the same time. Lorne, may I not compliment my sister?”
“Certainly, Your Highness,” John said. “I have seven sisters of my own.”
Bertie gave a satisfied nod and peered at Louise. “Besides, the entire country is enamored of your Scotsman.”
John barked a laugh. “Simply because I’m a commoner like them. They’ve known nothing about me and never cared one whit until I became engaged to your sister.”
Bertie turned his astute gaze upon John. “Well, let’s hope they still like you when all the shine wears off and we see what you’re really made of.”
“Bertie!” Louise shot out.
But John only chuckled. “I have nothing to hide. Like you said, I’m a Scotsman, and what you see is what you get.”
Bertie narrowed his eyes, but they gleamed with approval.
Louise recognized the endorsement at once. She reached for John’s hand and clasped his fingers. He squeezed back.
At the station, once out of the carriage, Louise embraced her brother. “Tell your wife to take care, and we’ll pray that her baby is delivered safely.” Alix’s sixth baby wasn’t due for another couple of months, and Louise would likely still be gone when the child was born.
“Thank you, Loosy,” he said, his smile easy. “Safe travels to you and your Scotsman.”
Leaving the country with her husband by her side was a new experience for Louise. She’d always been in the presence of her other family members, and even though the couple had their escorts, she felt a new freedom. One that she enjoyed immensely.
Both of them wrote their family members letters about their progress on the trains as they traveled through Ghent and Cologne. When at last they arrived at Darmstadt, Alice met them, and Louise was able to introduce her husband to her sister.
They couldn’t stay long because the next train was about to arrive, and Mama had given strict instructions to Louise not to make the visit long or stay overnight.
As they settled into their next train compartment, Louise scooted to the end of one bench and put up her legs. She wouldn’t fully admit it, but her knee had begun to ache the past few hours.
John settled himself on the bench across from her in order to give her more room. “Can you share with me why Her Majesty doesn’t want you spending much time with Alice?”
Louise sighed and looked out the window. She should be able to discuss this with her husband, right? “Alice is very involved in matters pertaining to women’s health. She’s been researching gynecological matters and has done nursing work in Darmstadt. Mama thinks that my sister will ask me a host of questions about my own person, as well as influence me to become a supporter of women getting medical degrees.”
John frowned. “I know you support women’s further education, but are you allowed to become involved in matters outside the royal interest?”
Louise had long buried any hope of doing so, ever since she’d been forced to return Mrs. Butler’s book and sit back as she watched Sybil and Henrietta involve themselves in suffrage meetings and gatherings. Louise had consigned herself to writing letters to solicit donations and making bandages.
“Mama doesn’t support women’s suffrage, and she won’t hear of her daughters doing it either.”
“Except for Alice?”
Louise smiled. “Mama’s long arm of influence is perhaps not quite as long as she wants.”
John smirked. “I come from a family full of sisters who are all accomplished, and I am sure if they had more options, they would excel. I’m a Liberal for a good reason, not because of my father, but because the progression of human rights, and women’s rights are part of my core beliefs.”
She was keenly interested in his opinion; suddenly this was a very important thing to find out about her husband. “Do you think women are levelheaded enough to vote?”
“Levelheaded?” John chuckled. “If that’s the requirement for voting, then most men should be exempt. I’ve never met a woman who couldn’t grasp political issues and what it means for her family’s future. So yes, I am supportive of women voting.”
Louise smiled, feeling relief to her very toes. “I agree.”
“Yet you can’t openly support it because of the queen’s opinion, and it’s too political for the royal family to be a part of?”
“Correct.” She sighed and looked again toward the window and the passing hills and distant mountains. “But the two reform bills passed last year give me hope for the entire country. The Married Women’s Property Act and the Education Act are both steps in the right direction. I too want all children to have access to education—it will only elevate our nation. And women should be able to study at a university, any subject.” She cut herself off. Perhaps she’d gone too far, too fast. “Is this shocking to you?”
When she dared meet his gaze, she found him watching her carefully. She wondered if he could read straight into her thoughts because he said, “Surely there are many causes you might become involved with that wouldn’t irk your mother yet would help those you want to help?”
She only nodded because she didn’t know how to reply.
John leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I have been married to you only a short time, Louise, and engaged to you months more, but I’ve observed many things. You are well liked and well respected by everyone you meet. When you walk into a room, it’s as if it comes alive. I see how men and women look at you. You draw them to you. You make them happy. You make them want to be stronger and better.”
Louise had never trusted such compliments coming from others since most of them were mere flattery. But with John, it was different. Yes, he was her husband, but he was also an outsider—he hadn’t been raised royal and conditioned to be at her beck and call.
“My dearest one,” he said softly, reaching across the space between them and taking her hand in his. “I see it in your eyes right now. You have dreams that you need to fulfill. And since you’re now my wife, I want to help you as a supporter of education for the poor, health reform, and women’s suffrage.”
If Louise’s knee hadn’t been aching something fierce, she might have leapt across the compartment and hugged the man. For now, she drew his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss there.
Chapter 37
“The name ‘Hospital’ was derived from hope and every hospital ought to be a centre of hope to sufferers. We want to build up all these children to become strong, healthy citizens. That is a privilege everyone has a right to.”
Speech by Princess Louise at the foundation-
laying ceremony for the Kensington Dispensary
and Children’s Hospital, November 2, 1926
April 1871
Louise, age 23
only a few days into the honeymoon, Louise received a telegram with the most dreadful news.
“What is it?” John asked, coming to her side where she’d sunk on the hotel room sofa.
Her throat had swollen with emotion. “It’s Bertie and Alix . . . Their baby was born premature, and—” She handed over the telegram to John and buried her face in her hands.
The poor, innocent child was born early, like his oldest brother, except this child—christened Alexander John Charles Albert—had not lived for more than a day.
John read the telegram, then set it aside and pulled Louise into his arms. “I am so very sorry,” he murmured against her hair.
Louise wrapped her arms around him and cried against his shirt. She wanted to be with Alix and Bertie. Her mind kept turning over the experiences that Alix must have gone through. The early labor. The pain and fear. Then the dreadful news of a son who wasn’t thriving, but failing.
“I wish I could do something,” she whispered against John’s chest. “I can’t imagine their pain right now. Poor Alix. Poor Bertie. Poor little baby.” She started crying again, and John only held her closer. Behind her initial shock and sorrow, a part of her wondered about her own motherhood. So many women dealt with such sorrows—would she be one of them?
“Do you want to return?” John asked. “We can put off traveling through Europe for another time.”
Louise exhaled. Her thoughts were too heavy to make such a decision at this moment. “I don’t know, my dearest. I don’t know.”
The next morning, Louise still felt weighed down, although writing letters to both Bertie and Alix helped. She also sent a heartfelt letter to Sybil, who was pregnant with her third child, due in a couple of months. Louise implored her to take care of herself and get lots of rest. Louise’s swollen eyes were a fright that morning, and John fetched a cloth and wet it with cold water.
Life was unexpected, and death even more so. She could only appreciate each day and care for her loved ones. While Louise leaned against her husband, the cloth over her eyes, she said, “I want to stay. Show me Florence and the places you love, like we talked about before.”
John caressed her arm. “Are you sure?”
She nodded and whispered, “Yes.”
Their honeymoon had been planned to span two months, but it felt like only a few short weeks. The highlight had been Florence, where John had spent the winter of 1867, and he took her around to his remembered haunts. They spent their days wandering through galleries, examining paintings and sculptures, eating at cafés, and deciding what to buy for their home together. They found art pieces, terracotta busts, and venetian blinds, but mostly they learned about each other’s tastes, likes, and dislikes.
In Florence Louise had her first experience staying in a hotel and walking streets incognito. Soldiers in uniforms drifted about, as if they weren’t quite ready for the war to be over. Mostly they flirted with shopgirls and maids. Strangers jostled her in the crowds, having no idea who she was. Louise found it vastly amusing, and she also enjoyed their next adventure in Venice. The city was utterly charming. It was only overshadowed by her heart aching for Alix and Bertie’s loss.
