For my account of Marion Crawford’s story, I took all the facts I could lay my hands on and filled in any gaps with my own imagination. The sources I am indebted to are as many as they are varied, ranging from an amusingly outdated book called The Complete Book of Etiquette, published by Foulsham & Co. Ltd. sometime in the 1950s and also by a Mary and John Bolton (who may or may not have actually existed), to the magisterial Queen Mary 1867–1953 (Phoenix Press) by James Pope-Hennessy, who definitely did exist. Others I have consulted include Marcus Adams, Royal Photographer by Lisa Heighway (Royal Collection Enterprises); Britain Between the World Wars, 1918–1939 by Marion Yass (Wayland); The Children’s War by Juliet Gardiner (Portrait/IWM) and the same author’s magnificent The Thirties: An Intimate History. Also, Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother: The Official Biography, William Shawcross (Macmillan); World War II Day by Day by Antony Shaw (Spellmount); The Heart Has Its Reasons by the Duchess of Windsor (Michael Joseph) and A King’s Story: The Memoirs of H.R.H. the Duke of Windsor, K.G. (Prion). I have already mentioned The Coronation Souvenir Book 1937 by Gordon Beckles (Daily Express Publications), but I also gained inspiration and research information from Hons and Rebels by Jessica Mitford (Phoenix Press); King’s Counsellor Abdication and War: The Diaries of Sir Alan Lascelles, edited by Duff Hart-Davis (Phoenix Press); and These Tremendous Years 1919–1938 (Daily Express Publications).
The last, a vintage photographic scrapbook detailing sensational events of the twenties and thirties, is typical of the rich seam of material I picked up at the secondhand bookstall in the excellent weekly flea market at Chesterfield in Derbyshire. For several years, its proprietor, Richard, kept back for me any and many royal-themed books gathered from local house clearances, and it is thanks to him—and what seems a disproportionately large number of recently departed royalists in the area—that I now have a roomful of hagiographical souvenir publications with titles like Queen Mary: A Picture Pageant of Her Wonderful Years and Britain’s Glorious Navy. Yet I found that even in the most fulsome account of royal life, there would be a hard little nugget of something interesting and revealing that I could use.
My main source was, of course, Marion Crawford’s own ill-fated autobiography, The Little Princesses (Odhams Press), along with her other books Queen Elizabeth II and The Queen Mother (George Newnes).
I would now like to thank all the people without whom The Royal Governess would never have seen the light of day—in particular, my amazing agents, Jonathan Lloyd and (in the US) Deborah Schneider, both of whom believed in it from the get-go. To Lucy Morris, who came on board later and was an inspiration. At Berkley, a huge thank-you to my very brilliant editor, Kerry Donovan. News of her interest in The Royal Governess came while I was off-grid in Cornwall; my delight was such that I nearly fell off the Coastal Path. Finally, thank you to my family; my husband, Jon McLeod; and my children, Andrew and Isabella. All have patiently and for years put up with my royal fixation, but given that I’m now writing a novel about Wallis Simpson, I’m afraid it’s not over yet!