“I’ll be an old woman by then,” she said, looking discouraged.
“You’re still a baby, you have time,” Anthony’s father said. She saw Anthony look unhappy and he said something afterward, when he gave her a ride to the restaurant. The queen had invited them all to dinner to celebrate.
“You still want to race as badly as that?” Anthony asked her, worried. He had heard the exchange with her father and saw the look on her face.
“Yes, if I could. But I don’t think they’ll ever let women race here in my lifetime.”
“And if they do?”
“I’d like to try it,” she said softly. It wasn’t worth arguing about, since it wasn’t a possibility.
“What if we’re married and have children by then?” he asked pointedly.
“I suppose it would be too late then. Please don’t worry about it. It’s not happening.”
“But it could, and you could break your neck out there.” He looked anxious and upset. He was willing to think about settling down now. She wasn’t. Racing was in her blood. She wanted that more than any man. He could see it in her eyes every time the subject came up.
“Thompson didn’t break his neck today,” she said quietly.
“He’s been doing it for years, and one day he might. I don’t want my wife and the mother of my children dead on a racetrack,” he said, looking angry. But more than angry, he was afraid for her.
“It’s been my dream all my life,” she said quietly. “If I had the chance I’d do it.” She was always honest with him. “But I don’t have the chance.”
“I hope it stays that way.” He didn’t speak again until they got to the restaurant and then he relaxed, and she noticed the queen watching them once or twice, and wondered if she suspected anything. But she had no reason to object. She’d known Anthony all his life, and there was nothing she could object to. His father was a lord, he was well educated, well brought up, and a gentleman. She might object to their having an affair, but they were both single, and it was 1967, not 1910. And thanks to Anthony and his friend in New York, she was on the pill, so she wasn’t going to get pregnant and cause a scandal with a child out of wedlock. And they intended to get married. Someday. Although neither of them was in a rush. They had everything they wanted now. The queen didn’t ask any questions, or comment, nor did Victoria, who was there that night too.
In May, on Annie’s birthday, Anthony took her to dinner at Harry’s Bar, and dancing at Annabel’s afterward, since he was a member of both clubs. They ran into Victoria, who arrived at Annabel’s shortly after they did, with a married American she’d been dating less than discreetly, which the queen wasn’t pleased about. Victoria took one look at them, and could see what had happened. She sent over a bottle of champagne after wishing Annie a happy birthday, and in return, they toasted her and her handsome friend. He was a well-known actor, married to a movie star, and wanted to divorce his wife for Victoria. It had been all over the tabloids.
By coincidence, they left the club at the same time, and the paparazzi were waiting for Victoria and her movie star. They got photographs of Annie and Anthony too, and recognized both of them. It was a bonus for the paparazzi, and the tabloids were full of both couples the next day, with the headline over Annie and Anthony’s photograph, ROYAL WEDDING BELLS? GOOD JOB, ANTHONY!
The queen called Annie that morning from Buckingham Palace and discreetly asked if the rumor was true. Were she and Anthony planning to get married?
“We’re seeing each other,” Annie admitted with nothing to hide, “but we have no plans to marry at the moment. It still seems too soon, to both of us.” It was the truth.
“I have no objection, as long as he’s sown the last of his wild oats. He was a bit of a playboy for a few years, I believe. But he’s the right age to settle down, if he has.” He had just turned thirty-one, and she was twenty-three now. “He’s a lovely young man. I’ve known his family all my life. Just don’t wait too long, if that’s what you want to do. You don’t want to become fodder for the tabloids, and have the paparazzi following you around all the time. Once you’re married, they’ll lose interest.” Annie didn’t want to marry just to get rid of the paparazzi, but the queen had made herself clear. She had conservative values and she preferred marriage to dating. “You’re old enough now, dear.” But Annie didn’t feel old enough at twenty-three, and she was still getting used to the royal life. It was her first taste of what Anthony disliked so much, pressure from the Crown.