The Granville Sisters (11 page)

‘Never mind, my sweet,’ Charles whispered, kissing her rather sloppily. ‘Once we’re married …’ Then he pressed himself up against her, and Rosie suddenly felt like a really grown-up woman.

In the face of Henry’s disapproval, Liza’s loyalty to Charles was fierce.

When people sounded surprised by Rosie’s choice of husband, Liza backed their relationship totally. Charles might not be a marquess, like Alastair, or even an earl, but she approved of his gentleness and mild manners. He was not the straying type, either. Rosie would be able to trust him.

And if Rosie seemed less ecstatic than expected, Liza knew she would come in time to appreciate the solid support of a kind man.

It would have been nice, of course, Liza reflected, if Rosie had been able to marry Alastair Slaidburn, but it had been revealed at the inquest after his death that he’d had a history of manic depression, which could be triggered by any deep emotional upset, so really she’d had a lucky escape.

‘I think Juliet should return to London now,’ Henry announced that evening.

‘But we did tell her Easter, at the earliest,’ Liza pointed out. She feared Juliet’s arrival might upset the applecart.

Henry was determined. ‘I know we did, but January is a quiet time of year. She can slip back into town without any fuss.’

‘But she’ll try and steal the limelight again. I do think this is Rosie’s big moment, and I don’t want her to be overshadowed,’ Liza fretted.

As it turned out, Juliet’s return coincided with an event which shocked the country and drove everything else from people’s minds, including Rosie’s engagement.

The announcement on the wireless was simple and moving.

‘The King’s life is moving peacefully towards its close.’ It was 9.35 p.m. on January 20th. Liza wept silently at the announcer’s words and Henry looked wretchedly sad. The King, a shy and retiring man, had nevertheless been a popular king, and his devoted wife, Mary, had captured the admiration of the nation with her elegance, dignity, and strong sense of duty.

Early the next morning, Henry turned on the wireless to hear it confirmed that George V, King, and Emperor of the British Empire, had died at five minutes past midnight, surrounded by his family.

A great era, part Victorian but overlaid with the elegance and stylishness of the Edwardians, had come to an end.

The Granville household instantly went into mourning, the adults in black from top to toe, with a minimum of discreet jewellery, and the children and servants with wide black armbands, in lieu of black clothes. Parsons wore a stern and sad expression.

‘God help us all, now that David is King,’ Henry remarked as they all dined quietly at home that evening. ‘I heard today that Mrs Simpson was sitting up all night, by her telephone, waiting for the Prince of Wales to phone her to give her the news. Like a bloody vulture, waiting for the pickings, if you ask me,’ he added in disgust.

‘Will he marry her now he’s the King?’ Juliet asked. ‘They’ve been together for several years, haven’t they?’

‘I don’t see how we can have a woman who has been divorced
twice
as our Queen,’ Liza pointed out scathingly.

Henry sighed deeply. ‘I don’t think the Prime Minister will allow him to marry her.’

‘What happens if he insists?’ Rosie asked, filled with sympathy for the couple whose love affair she’d always viewed as romantic.

‘Surely he can refuse to be King?’ Juliet protested.

Henry looked haunted. ‘It would mean he’d have to abdicate, and that could bring the whole royal family down.’

Rosie darted a nervous look at her mother. She was longing to ask, but simply didn’t dare, whether it meant she’d have to postpone her wedding.

Up in the nursery, Nanny and Ruby were red-eyed, but it didn’t stop Nanny from giving the children a rundown of what would happen next.

‘The Prince of Wales, who is called David by the royal family, will be crowned King Edward VIII next year …’

‘Why is he called David if his name is Edward?’ Louise asked.

‘He’s got several Christian names, and I suppose he prefers David,’ Nanny responded. ‘The old King will lie in state in Westminster Hall …’

‘The …
dead
King?’ Charlotte asked.

‘Of
course
the dead King, you silly girl, and then he’ll be buried at St George’s Chapel, in Windsor Castle.’

Charlotte looked eager. ‘Can we go? Like we did to the Jubilee?’

Nanny looked severe. ‘Certainly not. Funerals are no place for children.’ Nanny didn’t even know if she’d be able to listen to the proceedings herself on the wireless. Some things were just too painful to bear.

‘He’ll
have
to get rid of her now,’ Liza said indignantly.

The Granvilles were holding a quiet dinner party two weeks after the King’s death. Quiet it may have been, with all the women in black and pearls, but dull it certainly wasn’t, with starry guests like Lady Diana Cooper and her diplomat husband, Duff Cooper, and, from America, the millionaire novelist and socialite, ‘Chips’ Channon and his wife, the former Lady Honor Guinness, of the Guinness beer family, whose personal fortune almost matched his. Henry’s lifelong friend, Ian Cavendish, and his wife had also been invited, together with a few couples to whom they owed hospitality.

In the past few days, Wallis Simpson, and her future as the new King’s mistress, was the topic of conversation throughout the land, from humble dwelling house to royal palace.

Chips spoke. ‘David will never give her up. She’s his ideal. That woman –’ there was a mixture of admiration and wonderment in his voice – ‘that woman can do things for him that other women can’t …’ He flashed a knowing look around the table. Everyone leaned forward, intrigued.

Lady Diana spoke with the sanguine bluntness of the aristocracy. ‘People think she was taught by prostitutes in the brothels of Shanghai, but that’s nonsense. She had a Chinese ayah as a little girl, and
she
taught her, by using ivory rods.’

Liza flushed and looked embarrassed.

‘So
that’s
her secret,’ Juliet said with genuine interest.

Liza shot her a horrified look. The fact that Parsons was hovering around with more wine, listening to every word whilst pretending not to, made her want to
die
.

‘Wallis has certainly got a hold over him,’ Henry said calmly. ‘I hear they’re talking of a morganatic marriage, but I don’t think this country would wear that either.’

‘But they’re in love, aren’t they?’ Rosie reasoned, her eyes tender as she glanced at Charles to support her view.

Charles picked at his lobster, and said nothing.

Duff spoke briskly, his intelligent eyes darting around the dining table. ‘If Mrs Simpson
really
loved him, she’d go abroad and get out of his life now, and stay out of it for ever.’

‘I agree,’ said Juliet. ‘She’s being utterly selfish, but then I’ve heard she’s an adventuress, so she’d obviously be all out for herself.’

There was a stunned silence. The adults turned to look at her, surprised by the maturity of her manner, while Liza eyed her nervously. Juliet had grown up a lot during her incarceration with the Principessa. She’d learned sophistication, and a degree of worldliness. Tonight she even looked much older than her age. Her simple black velvet evening dress, with two long ropes of pearls, gave her a regal air.

Rosie bristled, seeing her sister take centre stage again, but she said nothing, because she lacked the confidence to air her opinion in front of her parents’ friends.

Henry’s eyes narrowed speculatively as he studied Juliet for a long moment.

Juliet’s gaze was level as she looked back at him. ‘Mrs Simpson must be stupid, or ignorant, to think she could become Queen in the first place.’

‘Exactly,’ agreed Lady Diana. ‘What an adorable girl you are, Juliet, and so beautiful with it.’

Juliet flushed with pleasure. They were indeed flattering words coming from this renowned beauty of the past two decades.

‘I think they should be given a chance,’ Chips persisted. ‘In the States we don’t take divorce so seriously. Wallis makes him very happy. She’s good for him. Bosses him around in a teasing way that no one else has ever dared do.’

‘That’s the trouble,’ Duff cut in, drily. ‘David’s weak. He’ll listen to whoever talked to him last, and he dithers all the time, and can’t make up his mind about anything …’

‘Except about Wallis, evidently, and he’s sure fixed on her,’ Chips chortled.

‘Except for Wallis,’ Lady Diana agreed diplomatically.

‘And,’ continued Chips, getting heated, ‘I don’t know why you people want to get rid of
him
! There’s a suggestion that the Duke of York should take over … I ask you!’

Liza smiled. This was a dangerous topic, especially in front of the servants. ‘It doesn’t quite work like that in this country,’ she simpered.

At that moment, Parsons led six footmen into the dining room. They were all bearing silver platters containing the meat and vegetables for the main course.

‘I hope you all like venison?’ she continued, desperate to divert the conversation into safer waters. ‘Have you been stalking recently, Duff?’

‘So what
will
happen?’ Lady Honor asked, ignoring Liza completely. ‘Chips and I entertained David and Wallis to dinner last week …’

‘Such dreadful social climbing,’ Lady Diana murmured
sotto voce
, casting her large blue eyes up to the ceiling.

Henry spoke. ‘The King will lose the respect of the people if he doesn’t make an honest woman of Mrs Simpson, and he’ll incur the fury of the people if he does.’

Charles, feeling he’d been silent for too long, spoke. ‘Fancy her going to watch the official proclamation at St James’s Palace! Peering out of a window at the ceremony, so all the photographers could see her.’

‘Dreadfully common,’ agreed Lady Diana. ‘Like a suburban housewife, twitching the net curtains.’

Duff nodded. ‘Have you heard what she said about having to wear mourning?’

Everyone leaned forward, enjoying the gossip.

‘Tell us!’ Ian Cavendish asked. He was an old gossip himself, and hated the fact that most of his work at the Foreign Office was subject to the Official Secrets Act.

‘Wallis said –’ Duff paused, looking around the table, timing it for effect – ‘that she “hadn’t worn black stockings since she gave up doing the cancan!”’

‘
No …!
’ Gasps of titillated amusement combined with self-righteous shock ebbed and flowed around the table.

The chatter continued. Liza felt she should take the ladies upstairs, and leave the men to their port and cigars, but every time she caught Henry’s eye, he demurred with a tiny shake of his head.

The topic of conversation had shifted to darker matters that affected them all, and everyone sat listening as Duff spoke with the voice of experience.

‘I saw the writing on the wall back in 1933,’ he said gravely. ‘Diana and I attended the first Nuremberg rally. When Adolf Hitler, an insignificant little man who’d been a plumber, appeared in uniform, I knew we could be doomed.’

‘It was dreadful,’ agreed Lady Diana, whose acute intelligence matched her husband’s. ‘Four hundred
thousand
supporters went wild. Mass hysteria, of course. Then Hitler started an impassioned oration, yelling and gesticulating like a raving lunatic. It was the most horrible and frightening display of egomania I’ve ever seen.’

The others sat still, chilled by her words.

‘Then Duff did something incredibly stupid,’ she continued. ‘I don’t know how he wasn’t arrested on the spot.’

The dapper diplomat’s eyes twinkled, as everyone turned to look at him. He gave a nonchalant little shrug. ‘I walked out,’ he said simply. ‘I realized that Hitler wouldn’t let anything stand in his way. The Nazis are going to overrun Europe before long, like a plague of rabid rats. I had no wish to stay and listen to how he was galvanizing the Germans into action.’

‘Do you
really
think they’ll attack the rest of Europe, sir?’ Charles asked. ‘I believe we have nothing to worry about.’

Duff gave Charles a brief glance, as if dismissing the yelps of a puppy. ‘I
know
we have,’ he said coldly. ‘Both Britain and France are being too timid to recognize the danger signals, and Hitler’s using a softly-softly policy. Churchill told me that German munitions are being manufactured as never before. The German Army is growing in size, thanks to thousands of ardent volunteers. The Rhineland, or the “west wall” as he’s calling it, is growing apace. Heavy fortifications are being built. Air-raid shelters have been constructed.’ He looked at Charles, coolly. ‘Do you want me to continue?’

Charles turned red. ‘It doesn’t mean they’re going to invade England,’ he said, weakly.

Duff’s face was also flushed. ‘Wake up, young man. Hitler is winding up the people of Germany, preparing them for war. It’s inevitable.’

There was silence around the table. The candles burned down. Parsons produced more decanters of wine.

Ian, who knew more about what was going on than anyone in the room, spoke. ‘We mustn’t forget Mussolini either. His conquest of Ethiopia has been brutal. There’s no doubt he’ll join forces with Hiter before long, posing a desperate threat to us all.’

‘I can tell you all one thing,’ Chips cut in, authoritatively. ‘Our President is very worried about the deterioration of the European situation.’

‘Do you think Roosevelt will aid Britain in a war?’ Henry asked.

‘Churchill’s mother was American. If
only
Churchill was in power, I bet you he would pull every string imaginable to get Roosevelt on board.’

‘We’d have to get rid of Neville Chamberlain first,’ Charles observed, desperate to keep up with the older and wiser men.

Juliet, who had been following the discussion with close interest, turned to her father, while Rosie fiddled with a lock of her hair, and Liza kept giving Parsons fussy whispered instructions.

‘I thought you said, Daddy, that thanks to the League of Nations, a peace treaty was signed at Versailles, which would end hostilities between Britain and Germany for ever.’