‘That’s the famous Jersey Lily, Mama.’
‘And why have you hung it over your bed?’
‘Well, it is rather charming, don’t you think?’
‘Leopold, you know how anxious I get about you. I think it would be most dangerous for you to be … er … become friendly with women.’
‘Well, Mama, I do have a certain number of female friends.’
The Queen frowned. ‘You have to consider your health, Leopold. It was always a great anxiety to me and to your dearest papa. I should not like you to hazard it in any way.’
With that she drew up a chair, stood on it and removed the picture. Leopold watched her with a smile. It was too charming a face depicted there for the Queen to destroy. She was always so susceptible to beauty.
She rose, taking the sketch with her. ‘You must take care of your health, Leopold, and you will not do so if you squander it dallying with women.’
Leopold tried to hide his smile. Really, Mama was a little old-fashioned and life with sainted Papa had made her very prim.
She need not have worried about him and Lillie. Bertie had come into the field and no one could really succeed when Bertie was there.
Now Lillie’s name was being universally coupled with that of the Prince of Wales. Bertie was enchanted by the delightful creature and people who wished to please the Prince must invite Lillie to their houses.
Alix was hurt but as usual hid her feelings; she appeared in public with Bertie, smiling and gracious, and he, as ever, made sure that she was accorded due homage. In Alix’s presence Bertie always made sure that he behaved as a faithful husband; if the lady he was pursuing were present at such times she would be ignored.
At least, thought Alix, I can be grateful for that. There was one rule from which Bertie was never diverted, however infatuated he might be. This was the almost divine right of royalty. He liked to be on familiar terms with his chosen companions and to play practical jokes on them. When they were told the soup was cold and took a mouthful of almost boiling liquid and burned their mouths, he thought that great fun; when soap was mixed with cheese and someone ate it, that was very amusing. What was not fun was when the Prince of Wales was expected to be the victim of the kind of so-called jokes he liked to see worked out on others. He never forgot his royal dignity – nor that of any member of his family.
Dignity must be preserved at all times. Now that he was putting on weight – and this was to be deplored because he was not tall and the effect was to give him a square look – some of his friends referred to him as ‘Tum Tum’ – but never to his face except on one occasion. Late one night his great crony, Sir Frederick Johnstone, who had been cited as co-respondent in the Mordaunt case, was playing billiards with the Prince at Sandringham. As Johnstone was drunk and over-hilarious, Bertie said to him kindly: ‘Freddy, you are very drunk.’ Johnstone, too intoxicated for tact, pointed to Bertie’s paunch and retorted: ‘Tum Tum, you’re very fat.’
Bertie’s notorious temper flared up. It was exactly like the Queen’s; fortunately it burnt itself out very quickly but before it did he told one of his attendants to see that Sir Frederick left Sandringham early next morning.
On another occasion, in the excitement of a game of billiards when he had made a bad shot, one of his friends cried out: ‘Pull yourself together, Wales.’ Bertie had stared at the speaker and the gleam in his blue eyes was icy.
‘Your carriage is at the door,’ he said; and turned his back.
So wise people quickly learned that, while they must amuse the Prince and be on friendly terms with him, it was for him to set the pace. They must never forget that he was royal, and Alix as his wife was also royal. Royalty must never be slighted even by the most favoured mistress.
Bertie’s temper was to be feared, but he was not often vindictive and forgave easily. The longest time he had kept up a grudge was in the case of Lord Randolph over the Aylesford affair; and it was agreed that Lord Randolph had acted in an amazingly impulsive manner then.
Once a waiter serving spinach splashed a little on Bertie’s shirt front. Bertie looked down at the mark and the rage in his face was terrible; the waiter trembled while Bertie plunged his hands into the dish saying: ‘Now I shall ruin it completely!’ and rubbed the spinach all over his shirt front. He stamped away to change; but when he came back his good temper was restored and he even had a smile for the waiter. That incident was often repeated; it was so typical of Bertie.
Now he had one object in mind – the pursuit of Lillie Langtry. The fact that he had entered the field meant that all Lillie’s other admirers must leave the way clear for him. The Prince of Wales and Lillie were seen riding together in the Row; hostesses sat them side by side at dinner parties; if they wanted the Prince to honour them with his presence, they must invite Lillie too; it was necessary to do homage to Lillie to win the Prince’s favour; so they did.
There were photographs of Lillie everywhere; they were sold in the shops and a new set was created which became known as The Professional Beauties. Everything that Lillie wore was copied. If she wore a certain type of hat it became known as the Langtry Hat; the manner in which she did her hair was the Langtry style; the most talked-of person in London was Lillie Langtry.
The Queen, who thought it very unbecoming for women to allow themselves to be photographed and known as Professional Beauties, was nevertheless eager to see this woman who captivated society. That she had won Bertie’s admiration was nothing – many had done that – but she had never before known such talk as there was about Mrs Langtry.
She invited her to one of her Drawing Rooms; and when the moment came for Lillie to be presented to her, the Queen held out her hand and appeared not to look at her, but that was a gift of hers; she had seen what she wanted to see. There was an undeniable charm about the woman and one had to admit that she was exceedingly beautiful.
A pity, thought the Queen, that she did not remain faithful to her husband. Mr Langtry thought the same; he remonstrated with his wife; she must give up this social life in London and go with him to Ireland; or they might sail on his yacht back to Jersey. Her extravagance was ruining him and the scandal she created must surely be ruining her.
At this the Jersey Lily wept and stormed. She had no intention of going back. For one thing the Prince of Wales would never allow it.
Mr Langtry did point out that as he was her husband he thought he might have more say in the matter than the Prince of Wales. It was the beginning of the end of the marriage, but Lillie continued to dazzle the Prince.
Unencumbered by a husband whom she ignored more than ever, she found life very agreeable. As for Bertie he was deeply enamoured – far more so than he had been over any of his previous conquests.
Alix suffered in silence while the Jersey Lily flourished, and everywhere Bertie was, she was sure to be.
Leopold, shrugging aside his loss of Lillie to his brother, decided to travel on the Continent for a while. In Frankfurt he met Princess Helen Frederica Augusta, daughter of the Prince of Waldeck-Pyrmont. She had a strong and interesting personality and Leopold had wanted to marry for a long time, if only to show that he was well enough to indulge in normal activities.
‘Leopold marry!’ said the Queen when she heard. ‘But he is not strong enough.’
Bertie thought he should be allowed to see if he were strong enough and Leopold was determined not to be wrapped in cotton wool.
‘If he could lead an ordinary married life so much the better,’ said the Queen.
‘Give him a chance to try,’ retorted Bertie.