“I’m not the queen’s sister,” she reminded him. “I’m only her niece. No one worries about what I do. I’m kind of below the radar and I like it that way.”
“Until you put a foot wrong, and then they’ll come down on you like bricks, if you go out with the wrong man, or say the wrong thing.” That was Victoria’s specialty. She was always dating men that her sister and the cabinet didn’t approve of, or being too outspoken or critical about the government, the prime minister, or her sister.
“I don’t do anything they can object to,” Annie said easily.
“You will one day,” he assured her, “and then there will be hell to pay.” It was why he had never gone out romantically with Victoria, or anyone royal. He didn’t care that she was older, nor did she. But he confined his love life to commoners, socialites, debutantes, models, and starlets, which caused comment too, and had won him the reputation of being a playboy, as Victoria had warned her. But Annie was in no danger of falling prey to his charms. She knew him too well now and still only liked him as a brother.
Her cousin Albert was seated on her other side at dinner the first night, on Christmas Eve, and he was talking about college, and a ski trip to France he was planning after Christmas. She had seen in the press that he was dating a beautiful girl, who was a duke’s daughter, but there was no evidence of her there. None of them brought their dates to the queen’s home for Christmas, not even her sons. It was strictly family, and the Hattons. Lord Hatton was seated next to the queen on one side, and her oldest son, the heir apparent, on the other. She was deep in conversation with Lord Hatton about a horse she wanted to buy, to use for stud services. Horses were her main topic of conversation in private. The prince consort was seated next to his sister-in-law Victoria, and she was making him laugh as she always did, with irreverent stories. She brought out the best in him. Men loved her.
The ladies left the table at the end of dinner, and waited in the drawing room for the gentlemen to join them shortly after, and then they played charades over coffee and brandy, followed by card games. At midnight they all went upstairs. Gifts were to be exchanged the next day before lunch, which would be a sumptuous meal in the main dining room. They followed the same traditions every year.
When Annie went to her room at the end of the evening, there was a fire burning brightly. The room was warm and cozy, and she was relaxing in a chair thinking of what a nice time she’d had, when there was a knock on the door. She went to open it, and was surprised to see Anthony standing there with a bottle of champagne in his hand and two glasses.
“A bit of bubbly before bedtime?” he offered. She wasn’t tired and she let him come in, and he sat down across from her in front of the fire and stretched his legs out as he filled two glasses with champagne, and handed one to her.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, looking relaxed. “It’s all a bit serious for me, and a little formal. But staying home alone on Christmas would be depressing. So I let my father talk me into it. And to be honest, I hoped you’d be here. I wasn’t sure if you’d be in Kent instead.”
“I thought I should be here this year.”
“Be careful. The royal life is a web you’ll never escape.”
“You make it sound ominous,” she said as she sipped the champagne.
“Not ominous, insidious. After a while, nothing compares to it and you get trapped. Like Victoria. I’m sure there are a dozen places she’d rather be. But she’s still here.”
“It’s home to her,” Annie said.
“She’ll wind up an old maid if she’s not careful. Men are afraid of this, and she won’t be young and beautiful forever. She’s already forty-two, and I don’t think any of the men she’s been in love with wanted to take this on.”
“Why not?” Annie looked surprised, as he finished his glass and poured himself another. She wondered if he was a little tipsy, but he didn’t look it.
“Because the queen makes the rules, my dear, for the entire family. And the cabinet. And the prime minister. And the archbishop. And all the rules and traditions that have existed for hundreds of years. You can’t escape that. It’s a prison of sorts, a golden one, but nonetheless the walls are thick and the doors are barred, and they let very few people in. Queen Alexandra is a stickler. It will happen to you too if you’re not careful. You can’t just marry whoever you choose now. They have to approve.”