Drina opened her eyes slowly. It was Christmas Day. She rolled out of bed and tugged open the curtains. Light streamed through the windows into the perfectly pink room. She walked to the fireplace to warm her hands; the embers of a small fire were still burning in the crate.
She reached out and startled: There was something inside her stocking! Drina quickly pulled the stocking off the mantle and found a piece of paper inside.
She dropped the stocking and unfolded the paper. At the bottom was the official stamp of Queen Victoria Regina and her signature. Drina glanced through the carefully written lines. It was a royal dispensation:
I, Queen Victoria, do officially end the entail of the Rothfield estate because of the lack of any direct or indirect male descendants. I hereby give Lady Alexandrina Victoria Gailey, daughter of Lord Anthony Gailey and Princess Wilhelmina of Hoburg, the authority to inherit Rothfield estate and the title Marchioness of Rothfield suo jure.
All Drina could do was laugh. She laughed so hard that she cried. She almost didn’t hear the light knock at the door. For half a moment, she thought it would be George, but she shook her head. He wouldn’t come to her rooms. Not now. Probably not ever.
Drina slipped on her silk robe and opened the door. Alice stood in the hall, fully dressed and grinning at her.
“Were you a good girl this year? Did Father Christmas come?” she asked archly.
“I’ll say,” Drina answered, opening the door wider so her friend could come inside her room. She shut the door behind Alice and they sat side by side on pink chairs.
“How did you do this?” Drina asked.
Alice smiled. “Last night, my mother called me to her rooms to talk about my marriage to Prince Louis. She was so pleased, I thought it was the right moment to ask a favor of her.”
“Obviously, she said yes.”
“Nearly,” Alice replied. “I told her about the special parliamentary act that allowed Henrietta Churchill to inherit her father’s title and estate, but she still seemed hesitant. So I pointed out to her that if you weren’t going to inherit your family’s estate that you would be desperately looking for a wealthy husband and that there was a very eligible prince looking your way. And of course, she doesn’t want you to marry Bertie, because she’s trying to set him up with Princess Alexandra of Denmark.”
“Why would she think that Bertie wished to marry me?”
“It was his idea to help you,” Alice said. “Bertie’s been telling Mama how beautiful you are and how talented and how much he likes you. Then he asked you to dance several times. I think that is what finally did the trick.”
“That was kind of him.”
“Will you forgive him now, Drina?” Alice asked earnestly. “May I tell him that he is forgiven?”
She paused before answering. “Yes, as long as he promises to keep both his lips and arms to himself in the future.”
“Bertie will be so pleased.”
“Thank you for all that you’ve done, Alice,” Drina said. “You must have stayed up very late to slip that letter in my stocking.”
“Late indeed,” Alice said with a wink. “My father wanted to talk to me in his study and he explained to me what happens between a man and a woman when they are married.”
“I wondered how much you knew about that.”
“Not much at all. In fact, nothing beyond kissing. And I have yet to be kissed,” Alice confessed, blushing. “But I look forward with joy to kissing and consummating my marriage.”
Alice laughed and blushed some more. Drina laughed with her.
“You will be so happy and you must name your most beautiful daughter after me.”
“I will,” Alice said with another smile. “Although, life was made for work and not pleasure.”
A dreary Prince Albert-ism if there ever was one.
“Perhaps life was made for both work and pleasure,” Drina said, standing up. “Now I must get dressed. I need to tell my parents the good news and go thank your mother.”
Alice stood up, too. “I should go spend the morning with Louis. He leaves for Hesse in three days and I could cry my eyes out just thinking about it.”
“How soon will you be married?”
“Papa says within the year,” Alice said. “But I can hardly wait. I could be quite happy and contented living in a cottage with Louis. We will share intellectual interests and aspirations.”
“And he is very handsome,” Drina said with her own smile.
“The handsomest of princes!” Alice said, smiling. “And even more handsome than Vicky’s husband, Fritz. Not that appearance matters, of course.”
“Of course not—but it helps,” Drina agreed with a laugh.
Once Miss Russon helped her to dress, Drina left her room and knocked on her parents’ door. Her father opened it, still in his morning robe.
“Is everything all right, Drina?” he asked.
“Everything is wonderful!” she said, throwing her arms around her father.
“Vhat is vonderful?” her mother asked. The Princess Rothfield was already dressed in a day gown of dark purple taffeta with a small waist and an enormous skirt. “Tell me at once, Liebling.”
Drina held out the letter to her. “Queen Victoria has officially broken the entail on Rothfield House. I’m to inherit the title.”
“I must see for myself,” her father said, snatching the document from her.
“It is everything I have prayed for,” her mother said, embracing Drina. “Your future is secure, my darling, my dearest Liebling.”
“How did this come about?” her father asked.
“Princess Alice convinced the Queen with the help of the Churchill precedent,” she said, thinking it best not to tell her parents everything. Her mother would be offended that Queen Victoria didn’t think her daughter worthy of a prince.
“I’m so happy,” her mother said. “I could shout it from the castle towers.”
“But it’s raining, dearest,” her father pointed out. “And I think it would be best to keep such happy tidings to ourselves until all the legal work is completed. And we don’t want her swarmed by fortune hunters, at least until the London Season next year.”
“I think there is much to what you say, Anthony. But Drina must go and thank Cousin Victoria at once.”
“Yes,” Drina agreed.
“I’ll come with you,” she said, patting Drina’s arm. “Try not to babble this time.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“You could hardly do worse than last time,” her mother reminded her.
“I’ll keep this royal dispensation safe,” her father said. “Happy Christmas, indeed!”
Drina and her mother waited for over an hour in the Queen’s Audience Chamber before Queen Victoria arrived, accompanied by Viscountess Jocelyn and George’s mother, the Duchess of Doverly. The duchess gave Drina a small smile of reassurance, and Drina couldn’t help but notice that George had inherited his beautiful brown eyes from her.
She and her mother both stood and curtsied to the Queen.
“Your Royal Highness,” Drina said in a breathless voice. “I wanted to thank you for your kindness in breaking the entail.”
“You are welcome, Alexandrina,” Cousin Victoria said. “It was the only thing to be done because there are no other male heirs. I would not change the law for any other reason. I love peace and quiet; I hate politics and turmoil. We women are not made for governing, and if we are good women, we must dislike these masculine occupations.”
“Of course, Cousin Victoria,” her mother said. “You are an exemplary monarch and a great example to all your people.”
“Indeed you are, ma’am,” the duchess agreed.
Queen Victoria nodded with her double chin.
“Congratulations, Your Majesty,” Drina added, “on Princess Alice’s engagement to Prince Louis.”
“I feel sure that no girl would go to the altar if she knew all,” the Queen said. “I think people really marry far too much; it is such a lottery, after all.”
The Duchess of Doverly covered her lips with a handkerchief, hiding a smile. Lady Jocelyn managed to turn her laugh into a delicate cough.
Drina opened her mouth to reply, but before she could speak, her mother grabbed her arm. “Thank you again, Cousin Victoria. We are so grateful. We will let you get back to your families for Christmas. Your Majesty, Duchess, Lady Jocelyn.”
Her mother gripped Drina’s arm tightly until Queen Victoria left the room with her ladies.
“Come, Liebling,” she said as they walked toward the opposite door.
“Why did you not let me speak?”
“I was saving you from yourself, Liebling.”
“You don’t even know what I would have said!”
“I didn’t need to,” her mother replied. “I saw how you stuck out your chin. It was going to end ill for all of us. Come, this is a day to spend with family, ja?”
Drina spent the rest of Christmas day with her parents. She sat by them and Friedrich during the state dinner that evening. She was wearing a new blue stain tunic dress with an underskirt of white silk, covered by innumerable small flounces.
But unfortunately, George didn’t seem to notice her or her new dress. He sat at the other end of the table by Lady Clara, who was giggling every time Drina glanced in their direction.
She took a large bite of Christmas pudding. It was still hot and burned her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She grimaced.
“What is the matter, Drina?” Fredrich asked.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Oy!” Edward called out from a few seats away. He pulled a silver coin from his mouth. He held it up for the entire table to see. “I got the silver sixpence.”
“Congratulations, Lord Dinsmore,” Prince Albert said, raising his wine glass. “May you enjoy wealth and good luck in the coming year.”
Everyone lifted their wine glasses and toasted: “Lord Dinsmore.”
Drina stole another glance at George and saw that he was looking right at her. Then Lady Clara touched George’s arm and his attention was back on her. She sighed in resigned disappointment. After dinner, the royal family left for their private apartments and the younger members of the party decided to play a game of the Courtiers.
“We need a king or a queen,” Lady Hyacinth said.
“I’ll be king,” Edward said. “Since I found the silver sixpence. George, get me a chair and place it in the center of the room.”
Drina saw George grimace in annoyance, but he did pick up a chair and set it in the center of the room. Edward sat down and folded his arms. Copying the king without smiling or laughing was the key to the game. Everyone else folded their arms. Edward nodded regally to the rest of the group.
Edward yawned widely and stretched out his arms. Drina and the rest of them copied him. He took out his handkerchief and wiped at his eyes. Everyone else in the room took out a handkerchief and wiped at their eyes. Edward took the same handkerchief and placed it on his nose and made a sneezing noise that was part pig grunt and part dog bark. Drina lifted her handkerchief toward her nose and found her eyes locked with George’s. He almost smiled at her, but he covered his mouth with the handkerchief. Drina wasn’t as fast. She tried to hide her smile with a snort, but ended up in giggles.
“Drina, I cry forfeit,” Edward said.
“What is the forfeit, oh great king?” Emily asked.
“To say yes or no to three questions by the company,” he said. “Drina, you will have to leave the room while we decide which questions to be asked.”
Drina stood up and gave Edward a ballerina-like curtsy, which made everyone laugh. She walked out into the corridor and waited to be called back into the room. She didn’t have to wait long before George opened the door and said, “Time to come back in.”
“All right,” she said, and followed him into the room. She stood on the edge of the circle with every eye upon her.
“Have you ever been kissed?” Lady Clara asked with an annoying giggle.
“Yes,” Drina said, willing herself not to blush.
George grimaced again and Lady Clara giggled even louder.
“Do you like England better than Hoburg?” Friedrich asked.
Her eyes darted back and forth from her cousin to George and then back to her cousin. She shrugged her shoulders as she said apologetically, “Yes.”
“And now for the final question,” Edward said. “Do you fancy my little brother, George?”
Her face felt as hot as the Christmas pudding. She blinked and looked back at George, whose usually open face was unreadable.
“What?!” she exclaimed. Her heart constricted inside her chest as if it were being pricked by thousands of sharp holly leaves.
George walked until he stood directly in front of her, shaking his head. “No, no. That’s not the right question,” he said, red-faced and looking almost as embarrassed as Drina felt. “Do you like playing cards for money?”
“Yes.”
“Yes to cards or to George?” Edward asked, grinning wickedly.
Nearly everyone in the room laughed.
Drina glared at Edward. Wasn’t it bad enough that his little brother had made her a laughingstock in London? Every one of their friends already knew that she fancied George. Now Edward was making her look like a fool in front of them. She was so angry she could have screamed.
For the first time in her life, she hated all the Worthingtons. Hated that Edward was mocking her. Hated that Emily was giggling at her behind her gloved hand. Hated that George didn’t love her back. Hated that he didn’t realize how much his touch affected her. Hated that he was smiling at her now in the way that made her knees weak.
“George,” she choked out. She shoved George in the chest with all her strength before turning and running out of the room as fast as her dancing slippers could carry her.
If only she could run away from her feelings as easily.