‘Bertie,’ she cried, ‘is it true that there is a project afoot for a trip to India?’

‘Oh, nothing definite,’ said Bertie airily. ‘Dizzy’s been turning over the idea in his mind. Seems to think I rate as a good ambassador.’

‘When would they want us to go?’ asked Alix.

Bertie was silent for a few seconds and then plunged: ‘I don’t think they want you to go, Alix.’

She turned pale; he saw her clench and unclench her hands.

‘So you are planning to go alone?’ she demanded.

‘Everything is quite unsettled so far.’

‘But not so unsettled that it has been decided that I am to stay behind.’

‘There are the children,’ said Bertie. ‘You would hate to leave them.’

‘They would be in good hands. And a wife’s first place is with her husband. I want to come with you.’

‘Well, of course, it’s what we both want,’ said Bertie evasively.

But she knew he didn’t. She wanted to turn away and weep. She knew that he wanted to go off alone; that he would not miss her at all, that he was already planning the pleasures that would be his.


* * *

Bertie had his way; the journey to India was arranged and Alix stayed at home, although she did accompany him to Calais.

Knowing that a very glittering, exciting and novel adventure lay before him, and that poor Alix was hurt to be left behind, Bertie was suitably sad on saying good-bye to her.

‘You have the children to comfort you for this parting,’ he said. ‘I haven’t that consolation.’

No, thought Alix, half angry, half exasperated, but you’ll find ample to make you forget your family!

Everyone noticed how melancholy she was and felt sorry for the poor Princess of Wales who put on such a brave face although the whole nation gossiped about Bertie’s infidelities.

Alix went back to her nurseries and told the children about Papa’s journey and soon their father was sending home accounts of his journey; at least he never forgot to write to them, telling them about his reception in India and the wonderful places he saw. He had shot an elephant and would bring a baby elephant home for the boys to see; he had also killed a tiger. Perhaps he would bring home some tiger cubs for them to play with. They were such lovely little creatures – like big cats and very playful when young.

George would read the letters to Eddy because Eddy could read only slowly and, although the elder, was far behind George in his studies. George had to look after Eddy always and explain things to him when he could not understand them.

So George read and re-read their father’s letters and every day they looked for them.

Disraeli told the Queen that he was really delighted with the work the Prince was doing in India.

‘None could have done it better save yourself, M’am,’ he said. ‘And we should not wish to see our gracious Queen indulging in pig sticking and tiger shooting at which by all accounts His Royal Highness excels.’

Bombay, Calcutta, Poona and Baroda. Everywhere the Prince went he made an excellent impression. Even at Lucknow, where in view of past events there was a hint of hostility, he managed to charm the inhabitants. There was no doubt that Bertie had the right manner to grace such occasions and win the superficial affection of multitudes; everywhere he went he was greeted with enthusiasm. He was given such gifts; he was cheered everywhere. He was called the Future Emperor. No one could have denied that it was an eminently successful and well-timed exercise.

But Bertie’s way of life must mean that he was always on the edge of scandal. Sometimes he managed to skirt skilfully across it; but this he could not always expect to do.


* * *

One of Bertie’s greatest friends was Lord Aylesford, who devoted so much time and energy to sport that he was known as Sporting Joe. He had been a prominent member of the Marlborough House set and Bertie had often been his guest. Sporting Joe had a remarkably pretty and rather flighty young wife who had been on terms of great friendship with the Prince of Wales – even greater than her husband was aware. It had not been possible to take her on the Indian tour but, against the wishes of the Queen, Bertie had included Aylesford in the party.

Lady Aylesford was not of a nature to remain faithful to her husband or to the Prince of Wales during such a long absence and no sooner had they left than she struck up a friendship with another member of their circle, Lord Blandford, heir to the Duke of Marlborough. So serious did this friendship become that Blandford decided to leave his wife and set up house with Lady Aylesford.

When Lord Aylesford heard of this he was very distressed and explained the position to the Prince. Bertie was uneasy. The Mordaunt case was still fresh in his mind. He had been very friendly with Lady Aylesford – as he had with Lady Mordaunt; if Aylesford was going to make trouble and there was a public scandal he might well be drawn into it.

‘Blandford is a scoundrel,’ he cried. ‘I’ll never speak to the fellow again.’

But Aylesford wanted greater satisfaction than the Prince’s disapproval. He must go home, he said. He must know exactly what was happening. Reluctantly the Prince agreed and Aylesford left for England.

With the departure of Aylesford and one or two others – including Lady Aylesford’s brother who had been a member of the party – a great deal of the fun departed. Sporting Joe had a genius for arranging amusing pastimes. The Prince missed him very much and the more he missed him the more he raged against Blandford, the cause of the trouble. His anger was tinged with a certain anxiety which made it the greater, since he himself had perhaps been a little indiscreet with the fascinating wife of Sporting Joe.

He had left India and was in Egypt on the way home when news reached him that Lord Aylesford was planning to divorce his wife and of course he would cite Lord Blandford as co-respondent. In the heat of the affair Aylesford made known the Prince’s criticism of Blandford.

Lord Randolph Churchill, the fiery-tempered younger brother of Lord Blandford, decided to defend the family honour. This defamation of his brother’s character coming from someone like the Prince of Wales was ridiculous, he said. The Prince had known of the affair between Lady Aylesford and Blandford before he left England yet he had insisted on Lord Aylesford’s accompanying him. The family were eager to prevent a greater scandal and tried to persuade Aylesford to drop the idea of divorce.

Lord Randolph, a man of immense vitality, a certain impulsiveness, great ambition, a love of the limelight and a complete lack of discretion, determined to do everything in his power to stop the divorce and stated that the Prince of Wales was the chief instigator of the trouble and that he would never forgive him for calling Blandford a scoundrel. He went on to declare in his club and to acquaintances who, he must have known, would not keep the information to themselves, that if the divorce were proceeded with, evidence could be produced which could ruin the Prince of Wales.

In his impetuous way he turned his indefatigable energies into an effort to stop the divorce. The Prince could stop it, he was sure; and as His Highness had influence with Aylesford, it seemed that if he were to forbid Aylesford to proceed the outraged husband would comply with his commands.

Meanwhile Churchill asked for an audience with the Princess of Wales.

Alix, who had heard rumours of the scandal, was feeling sick at heart. How different everything might have been if only Bertie had been a faithful husband, or if she could have been indifferent to his infidelities. She had tried not to attempt to discover with which women he was friendly; she had tried to laugh at rumours and to tell herself that a virile man like Bertie needed outlets for his energies which marriage could not supply. He was not the only unfaithful husband. He was so charming, and especially tender and generous when he was indulging in his adventures. He was so good to the children; so eager that she herself should be treated with respect; and she was never allowed to suffer any indignity in public. He would have been angry, even with his mistress of the moment, if she had dared to show a lack of respect towards the Princess of Wales. He was tolerant about her besetting sin of unpunctuality; he tried not to show his exasperation when she was as much as half an hour late, which she knew she often was. It was impossible not to love Bertie deeply. If she could have loved him a little less how much easier it would have been.

She looked at the little man with the burning purpose in his eyes, feigning respect but in fact threatening.

‘A most painful business, Your Highness.’

‘Then it is a pity everything is not done to stop it,’ she answered.

‘I am in complete agreement. That is why I have come to Your Highness. The Prince could have great influence here. This case must not come before the public.’

‘And you think I can prevent that?’

‘I think Your Highness might persuade the Prince to prevent it.’

‘I have no say in these matters.’

‘You have influence with the Prince and I believe that if you could make known to him what bringing this matter into the public eye would entail it would be an end to it. I must explain to Your Highness that if Aylesford takes this to court, the Prince will be subpoenaed and this will be a repetition of the Mordaunt case. Although this time it will not go so easily for the Prince.’

‘I don’t understand you, Lord Randolph.’

‘Lady Aylesford, Your Highness, received letters from the Prince of Wales. When this trouble arose and divorce was threatened, she gave those letters to my brother, Lord Blandford. If Lord Aylesford went on with the divorce, these letters would be published.’

Alix put her hand to her brow. Letters! It was always letters in these scandals. Oh, Bertie, how could you be so indiscreet as to write letters to these women! There had been letters in the Mordaunt case – fortunately they had not been too revealing. She trusted these were not either.

Lord Randolph tried to dispel her hopes. ‘Your Highness,’ he said, ‘if the contents of these letters were revealed I fear the Prince of Wales would never sit on the throne.’

He left Alix in a state of great anxiety.


* * *

When the Prince heard what was happening he was furious. What angered him most was not the fact that the letters might be published but that Churchill had dared to go to Alix and inflict such agonies upon her. He knew how she would feel and he hated himself for having become involved with Lady Aylesford. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Alix.

He raved to his friend Lord Charles Beresford.

‘I’ll never speak to Churchill again. I’ll see him hounded out of society. I’ll challenge him to a duel.’

‘Your Highness couldn’t do that,’ put in Beresford.

‘What do you mean I couldn’t do it? I will do it. I’ll have his blood for this.’

‘It would be treason, Your Highness.’

‘Treason. I’d like to see him in the Tower. I’d like to have him before a firing squad. And if I decide to challenge him to a duel I’ll do so, Beresford, remember that.’

The Prince, usually mild-mannered and good-tempered, had inherited a spark of the Queen’s hot temper; and when it was aroused – though it rarely was – it could be alarming.

Lord Charles knew that he had no alternative but to carry the challenge to Churchill.

When he received it Lord Randolph replied that it was absurd. He could not of course accept the challenge. At the same time he had no intention of changing his course of action. If there were divorce proceedings the letters the Prince of Wales had written to Lady Aylesford would be published.


* * *

The Queen of course had been informed. As usual when the family was in real trouble she stood firmly behind it. Bertie was the victim of unscrupulous people, she said.

Mr Disraeli was naturally her great comfort.

‘Bertie assures me,’ she told him, ‘that the letters are innocent.’

‘I am sure they are, M’am, but the wrong construction can be put on innocent matters, and people are inclined to believe the worst. His Highness is quite right not to attempt to interfere in Lord Aylesford’s private affairs.’

‘I shall let the Prince know that I believe he has acted rightly, by not allowing this man Churchill to blackmail him – for that’s what it is.’