‘And you will be away long?’

‘Oh, I don’t suppose so.’

‘Then you’ll come back to Brussels, I suppose.’

‘I shall have to report to London first.’

‘Just briefly,’ she said. ‘And then you’ll be back.’

He had to let it rest there. He could not be so brutal. Besides, this Victoria might refuse him. They might not be able to find a bride for him.

He had asked George to keep the matter secret so that she did not hear through the press. George would do what he could. He was always gallant to women and it would grieve him to make Julie suffer more than was necessary.

He would stay here for two days before going on to Wald-Leiningen, and who knew perhaps he would never have to tell her how near he had come to deserting her.

The Princess Victoria was thoughtful. She had always known that she was too young to remain unmarried for the rest of her life, for she was only thirty-one years of age. She had two delightful children, healthy and good looking; it was natural that there should be suitors.

Her brother Leopold, now mourning the Princess Charlotte at Claremont, had written to her. He believed that nothing could be more suitable than a marriage with the Duke of Kent. He desired it and he hoped that as his dear sister had done him the honour in other important matters of taking his advice, she would in this one.

Victoria considered.

There were certain things a widow must give up if she married again. Freedom was rather pleasant and so rarely enjoyed by German princesses; but since the death of her husband, Prince Emich Charles, she had enjoyed it; merely in her household of course, but the castle of Wald-Leiningen was her little world and she was complete mistress of it.

There were the children to consider. Charles and Feodore. She adored them and they her, in spite of this discipline she enforced. She was a woman who liked to have her own way, but, she always reminded herself, it was for the good of others.

Leopold was her favourite brother, although younger than she was. There had been great rejoicing in the family when he had married Princess Charlotte, heir to the throne of England. Young Charlotte had loved him passionately, which was small wonder for Leopold was handsome and attractive in every way, although very serious; but that in the Princess Victoria’s eyes was a virtue. The Princess Charlotte must have thought so too for by all accounts Leopold was the only one who could subdue her – and she loved him for it.

And then the bitter tragedy! The death of Charlotte in childbirth and the misery of poor dear Leopold who had loved his wife so tenderly and had believed that he was to be the father of a future King of England.

And it was due to Charlotte’s death that she was facing her present problem now. The loss of Charlotte meant an imperative need to marry and produce an heir quickly among the King’s sons; and the Duke of Kent was one of them.

She heard the sound of children’s voices and looking from her window she saw Charles and Feodore riding into the court-yard with their grooms. Little Feodore was ten years old and was going to be a beauty, and Charles was a boy to be proud of. He was now waving the groom aside and helping Feodore out of the saddle. He was very courteous, her young Charles. They would change from their riding habits and present themselves in her drawing-room, for the Duke of Kent was due within the next hour and she wished him to see the children before he committed himself.

Victoria turned away from the window and sat down looking into the fire.

He will have to take a widow and two children, she thought. And I shall have to take a reluctant man of fifty.

Reluctant? Well, of course he would be reluctant. She had asked Leopold for all details of the Duke of Kent and he had not spared her.

‘He has been living for the last twenty-five years or so with Madame de St Laurent, a woman to whom he is devoted. She was received by the Prince of Wales who is notoriously lax where his brothers’ indiscretions are concerned.’ (Dear Leopold, he would never be lax over such matters!) ‘But of course it was a relationship of the left hand and she was not received at Court. Recently they went to live in Brussels where they intended to settle, until my dearest Charlotte died and so changed all our lives.’

She could imagine it well. The Duke’s being forced to abandon the mistress whom he would regard as his wife and marry a strange young woman who could not speak English – although he could speak German she supposed; and in any case his mother Queen Charlotte could not speak English when she first arrived in England.

The language presented no difficulty. It was Madame de St Laurent. But she would be old compared with herself, and she who was plump and handsome was attractive to men, she was fully aware. If she did not take the Duke of Kent there would be other offers.

‘The Duke of Clarence is older than the Duke of Kent, but he has made himself rather ridiculous lately,’ wrote Leopold. ‘First by deserting the actress with whom he lived for twenty years and by whom he had ten children, who live with him in his house at Bushy. Then by proposing marriage to several people, some most unsuitable, and being rejected by them. At first I was put out that you were not to be offered Clarence because any children he had would come before any you might have. But it is almost certain that you would prefer the Duke of Kent, who is more serious-minded and in every way more suited to become the father of the heir to the throne.’

One could always trust Leopold. He had the family welfare so much at heart.

There was a knock at the door and the children came in. Feodore curtsied; Charles bowed. Her expression softened. How delightful they were! If they should have a stepbrother who was Prince of Wales brilliant marriages would be arranged for them.

‘Did you enjoy your ride, my children?’

‘Yes, Mamma, thank you,’ said Charles.

‘We rode so far we could see Amorbach in the distance.’

‘That was quite a distance. I am expecting a visitor, from England.’

‘From Uncle Leopold, Mamma?’ asked Charles.

‘No, not exactly; but he would be a friend of Uncle Leopold.’

‘Then he must be a good man,’ said Feodore. ‘When will he arrive?’

‘At any moment, I believe.’

‘As he has come from England,’ said Charles, ‘he will be able to give us news of our uncle.’

‘I shall ask him when Uncle Leopold is coming to see us.’

‘You must not ask questions,’ said their mother, ‘but wait until you are spoken to.’

‘Is he very important, Mamma?’

‘He is the son of the King of England.’

The children’s eyes were round with wonder.

‘Even Uncle Leopold’s Charlotte was only the daughter of the Prince of Wales,’ said Charles.

His mother laid her hand on his arm. ‘You talk too much, Charles,’ she said severely. ‘And when the Duke arrives I want you to remember that you are in the presence of a very important man.’

Thus when Edward arrived he found Victoria with her children.

I can’t do it, thought Edward, as he made his journey across Europe to the castle of Wald-Leiningen. It will break her heart. Clarence will have to be the one. Why not? He’s older than I. Then there’s Ernest; he’s very likely to have a child. Just because my mother won’t accept his wife that’s no reason why his child should not inherit the crown. She’s even royal – my mother’s own niece. And what of Adolphus? He’s betrothed. Why should I disrupt my life when I have so many brothers?

I will behave in such a way that she refuses me. She might refuse me in any case. But would a young widow who had probably made up her mind she must marry at some time refuse the Duke of Kent to whom she could bear a king or queen of England?

But I can’t hurt Julie, he kept telling himself.

And yet … the prospect was glittering. Life in Brussels was cheap; there was a pleasant social atmosphere; Julie was happy there. But England was his home. He hadn’t told Julie how homesick he was. He had been all those years in Canada; and his career in the Army had often taken him away but now that he was getting older he did long to be at home. If he married his debts would be settled; he would get a grant from Parliament, a larger income. And suppose he had a child? He did regret that Julie had never had his child. There was William with those ten FitzClarences, and although some might deplore their illegitimacy, William took great pride in them and there was no doubt that he derived a great deal of pleasure from them.

They had come to an inn in the heart of the forest and there were to stay the night. In a few days now he would arrive at the castle of Wald-Leiningen and he would have to make up his mind. He would not admit it to himself because he refused to consider the fact that any woman but Julie could attract him, but he was eager to see whether the Princess Victoria was as handsome as she had been made out to be.

Princes were so often deceived in these matters. He only had to think of the Prince of Wales’ own marriage to Caroline of Brunswick. There could not have been a greater disaster than that.

‘Your Highness!’ It was his equerry come to conduct him to the room he was to have in the inn.

The innkeeper was delighted at the prospect of being host to a royal Duke. He was preparing the finest meal he had ever offered to guests and the smell of sausages and sauerkraut filled the parlour.

It sickened Edward who was too concerned with his affairs to think of food.

He kept seeing Castle Hill, the home he had loved in Ealing, the house in Knightsbridge where he and Julie had lived together, and his apartments in Kensington Palace which he had left, but which had been home to him. He wanted to go home and if he married this young woman there would be no question of it.

He looked about the room – the best in the inn – and said to himself: ‘I can never do it.’

He imagined his mother’s face cold with fury. He couldn’t do his duty! Did he realize that he had been receiving an income from the State so that when the moment came for him to do his duty it should be done.

He could imagine George’s apologetic shrug. We all have to do these things, Edward. I myself had the most unfortunate of experiences. No one could suffer more than I did.’

A prince must do his duty.

His equerry was at the door. The meal was ready. Would His Highness honour the host by coming down to partake of it?

The meal was over when the gipsy came in. She had been passing, she said, and she had felt an impulse to enter because she knew there was an important guest under the innkeeper’s roof that night.

She had no doubt seen the equipage, thought Edward, but everyone else was eager to let her talk.

She could foresee the future, she told them. If they would cross her palm with silver.

The bright alert eyes were on Edward. She had selected him immediately as the important personage; it was his future she was anxious to foretell.

He shook his head and she took the hands of other members of the party and spun her tales of glory and disaster while Edward looked on and thought it was as good a way as any to pass the time.

‘And my lord?’ she pleaded.

He held out his hand and she chuckled gleefully.

‘Here’s glory,’ she cried. ‘My lord is going to marry.’

‘What, at my age!’ cried Edward.

‘Ah, my lord is young at heart. He will marry and be the father of a great queen.’

Edward’s heart had begun to beat faster and he was anxious that none of the company should know it.

‘You might have given me a king,’ he reproved her.

She shook her head.

‘A queen,’ she insisted.

‘A higher price for a king,’ he tempted.

But she shook her head and said with dignity, ‘I am an honest woman your lordship should know. I cannot sell what is not here.’

‘So it has to be a queen,’ he sighed.

‘There is nothing your lordship should regret in that,’ she answered.

The gipsy told no more fortunes. She left the inn; and Edward retired to his room to rest before the morning’s early start.

And he kept thinking: A queen. How strange that she had said that. A great queen, she had insisted.

And a few days later he came to the castle of Wald-Leiningen and there was received by the Princess Victoria with her children.

She was plump, handsome, fertile, desirable: and he could not get the gipsy’s words out of his mind.