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  “I hope they don’t treat you like Cinderella, and have you sweeping out the hearths. They’ve probably lost their help like everyone else. Will you really be able to keep the secret of who you are?” Victoria said meanly, obviously in doubt.

  “She’ll have to,” her father answered for her. “It wouldn’t be safe for her there if everyone knew who she was. We intend to say that she is being sent away to the country, like many children, but we will not reveal where she is. No one will discover her identity, and only the earl and countess and Charlotte will know.”

  “You’ll be back before you know it,” her older sister reassured her kindly, and came to her bedroom later that night to bring Charlotte some of her own favorite sweaters to take with her, and several books. She took a little gold bracelet with a gold heart on it off her own arm and put it on her sister’s wrist. “I’ll miss you terribly,” Alexandra said and meant it. She had been protective of her since the day Charlotte was born. Victoria had often been a thorn in their sides, but Charlotte had a happy disposition, and Alexandra was a gentle soul, and stronger than she appeared. She would have to be one day when she was the sovereign, after their father was no longer king. Victoria had a jealous nature, and had often been envious of both her older and younger sister. She resented the easy bond they shared.

  Alexandra was as dark as Charlotte was fair. Victoria had red hair, and all three of them had delicate aristocratic features, typical of their bloodline. Both of Charlotte’s sisters, and her parents, were considerably taller than she. Like her great-great-grandmother Queen Victoria, Charlotte was barely five feet tall, but perfectly proportioned. She was just very small, and very graceful.

  * * *

  —

  The family gathered the next morning in the queen’s private sitting room to say goodbye to Charlotte. Charles Williams, the king’s secretary, and her elderly governess Felicity had been assigned to make the trip with her. Both were trustworthy with the secret of the princess’s whereabouts for the next ten or eleven months. The earl and countess were expecting them after the four- or five-hour drive from the city. They drove in Charles Williams’s personal car so as not to attract attention. He had a simple Austin, and there were tears on Charlotte’s cheeks when she got into the backseat. A moment later, they drove away, and rolled circumspectly through the gates of the palace, as Charlotte wondered when she would see her home again. She had a terrible sense of foreboding that she would never be back. But everyone in London felt that way now, living from day to day, with bombs falling all night long and their homes and loved ones disappearing and dying.

  “It’s just for a year,” she whispered to herself, to stay calm, as they drove past newly ruined buildings on their way out of the city. She had her medicine with her, but they kept the windows rolled up so she wouldn’t need it, but either from the emotion of leaving her family or the dust outside, her chest felt so tight she could hardly breathe. She closed her eyes as she thought of her parents and sisters, fighting valiantly to make herself stop crying.

  Charlotte dozed on and off during the long drive from London to Yorkshire. Felicity, her old governess, had brought a picnic basket with things for them to eat. Military Intelligence had advised Charles Williams that it would be best not to stop at pubs or restaurants along the way in case Her Royal Highness might be recognized, and give people a hint as to where she was going. An announcement was going to be made in a day or two that she had been sent to the country for an extended time, to avoid the London bombings, until her next birthday. Both the Home Office and MI5 were anxious not to give any clues to her whereabouts in Yorkshire. They didn’t want that information falling into German hands either, which was another factor they had to consider. The Germans capturing the princess or worse, killing her, would have decimated British morale, and the royal family.

  Charlotte ate the watercress and cucumber sandwiches the cook had prepared for her, along with some sliced sausage, which was a rare delicacy now, even on the queen’s table. She fell asleep several times, bored with watching the countryside slide by.

  Eventually, they reached the rolling hills of Yorkshire. It was a warm sunny day. She looked at the cows and horses and sheep in their pastures, and tried to imagine what her life in Yorkshire would be like. Her horse, Pharaoh, had been sent down with the assistant stable master and one of the stable boys three days before, and when they returned, they reported that the spirited Thoroughbred Charlotte liked to ride had settled well into his new home. He seemed to like the grazing land available to him. There was only one very old man, previously retired, and a fourteen-year-old boy managing the stables at Ainsleigh Hall, the Hemmingses’ estate, and the Earl of Ainsleigh’s seat. They had reported that there were few horses left in the stables. There was one hunter for the Hemmings boy to ride, and a few older horses. Neither the earl nor the countess rode anymore. The earl had been master of the hunt, but all of that ended with the onset of the war, and the countess had had a bad fall ten years before, the ancient stable master told them, broken her leg badly and hadn’t ridden since. It reminded Charlotte of what Charles had told them, that the Hemmingses were not young. Their son, Henry, had come to them as a surprise late in life, when the countess was forty-nine. She was sixty-seven now, and the earl in his early seventies.

  Charles had mentioned that the boy was the love of their life, and they were dreading when he would leave and go to war in a few months. He had joined an infantry regiment, and was waiting to be called up right after his eighteenth birthday, which wouldn’t be long now. By Christmas, he’d be gone, and the Hemmingses would be left with their two young female guests for company.

  Charlotte knew almost nothing about the girl who’d been staying there for two years, only that she came from the East End of London, and both her parents had been killed in the bombings right after she left. She was an orphan now, like so many other British children. She was the same age as Charlotte, which would be pleasant for her, if they got along, and Charlotte couldn’t imagine why they wouldn’t.

  Charlotte had never gone to a proper school herself, and had been tutored at home. It was tedious at times, particularly once her sisters left the schoolroom, and she had to do her lessons alone, with a French governess who tutored her in French, drawing, and dance. A professor from Eton College taught her history and the basics of mathematics, and another from Cambridge taught her literature, all by British writers and poets. She hoped that she wouldn’t have to continue her studies in Yorkshire, although she had promised her father she would read all the books available to her, and a few he had given her about the history of Parliament, to take with her. He wanted all his daughters to be well versed in the process of British government. He said it was their duty as daughters of the king.

  Charlotte much preferred riding her horses, and needed no lessons there. She was a bold, skillful rider, and had joined her father numerous times at the royal hunts he’d attended before the war. Her sisters were far less adventuresome. She intended to ride astride in a normal saddle now, like the men, instead of sidesaddle, with no one to stop her or complain about the impropriety of it. She’d been reprimanded every time she’d tried it at Windsor, with her own and her father’s horses. She couldn’t do it at the royal training centers, but she could occasionally at their country retreat, but whenever her parents found out she was scolded and told to ride sidesaddle like her mother and sisters.

  Queen Anne was an avid rider too, but not as much so as her youngest daughter, and the queen was content to ride sedately in their park. The king and queen frequently rode together, while Charlotte rode early in the morning with one of the grooms, so no one could observe her pushing her stallion to his limits and riding like the wind. She planned to do some riding in Yorkshire, and hoped that the earl and countess wouldn’t organize schoolroom lessons for her, if they didn’t have a teacher for her, which she fervently wished would be the case. She wondered if her young
female contemporary liked to ride as much as she did, or even knew how. If not, perhaps she could teach her.

  They arrived at Ainsleigh Hall as the Hemmingses were finishing lunch, and the earl and countess and their son, Henry, came out to greet her and introduce themselves. They introduced Charlotte as “Charlotte White.” Lucy Walsh, the girl from London, brought up the rear and hung back, too shy to speak to Charlotte at first, when the Hemmingses introduced her. She was content to watch her from a distance. She noticed Charlotte’s simple dark blue dress, and the well-cut coat she wore over it. Charlotte was wearing high heels and a small elegant dark blue velvet hat, gloves, and her hair was combed in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. She looked well dressed and very fashionable, as she greeted the Hemmingses and Lucy politely, and she thanked them for letting her stay with them. Their son, Henry, stared at her in fascination, without saying anything. He had never seen a girl quite like her, and hadn’t been to London since he was a little boy. His parents preferred their country life, and he wasn’t old enough to go into society yet, and would miss his chance now by going into the army. All that went with his rank and title would have to wait until after the war. It was the same for all of his friends. He was struck by how small Charlotte was, which surprised him, having seen her horse in the stables. He was intrigued to think she could ride such a large, lively horse. She looked so dainty and demure, and somewhat shy as they walked into the house. She glanced at Lucy with a smile, and never spoke directly to Henry. Charlotte wasn’t accustomed to speaking to boys. The earl appeared to be very jovial, and welcomed her warmly. He looked older than he was, and the countess walked with a slight limp after her riding accident. She had a kind face and snow white hair, and seemed old to Charlotte, compared to her own mother, who was considerably younger. She thought the Hemmingses seemed more like Henry’s grandparents than his parents.

  “We’re delighted to have you with us, Your Royal Highness,” the countess whispered to her out of everyone’s hearing, as Charles Williams took charge of Charlotte’s bags, and a young hall boy from one of the farms carried them upstairs. A meal had been set out in the kitchen for Felicity and Charles to eat before they left. Charlotte said she had eaten on the way, and was hoping for a ride on Pharaoh in the warm weather. Once they settled her into her room, her governess and father’s secretary would have nothing left to do there.

  “You have a very fine mount,” Henry finally said, as he walked into the house beside her, and she thanked him, with her eyes cast down. His parents could see immediately how impeccable her manners were. She was every inch a princess, although they would not be using her title from now on, so as not to alert anyone to who she was. Their son had no idea who she was either, and merely thought her the daughter of some aristocrats his parents knew in London, who wanted their daughter out of harm’s way in Yorkshire.

  Lucy didn’t speak to her at all, as she followed the Hemmingses and Charlotte into the house. Then she disappeared into the kitchen, where she was more comfortable. Henry paid no attention to her, and seemed riveted by the new arrival. She seemed very grown up to him, and he joined her and his parents for tea in the library, and then left to ride over to one of the farms, where he said he was helping repair a fence since there was no one else to do it. He said he worked on the farms a lot now, and enjoyed it, to keep busy.

  “We’re a bit shorthanded, I’m afraid, in the house as well,” the countess said apologetically. “It’s never been quite the same since the last war, and I fear that this one will finish off estates like ours. Many of the young people never came back and stayed in the cities last time when the war was over. I fear it will be the same, or worse, when it ends this time. With women needed in the factories, even the young girls have deserted the farms and gone to the cities. Lucy has been a great help to us. We’d be lost without her. We’re hoping she’ll stay, since she has no one left in London now. Very sad all that. She lost both her parents in the bombing when their apartment building collapsed. It’s fortunate that she was here.” Charlotte nodded and felt sorry for her without even knowing her. She seemed like a very plain, shy girl. Charlotte hoped they could be friends, since they were the same age.

  After they finished tea, the countess took Charlotte up to her bedroom, and for an instant she was shocked.

  “I wanted to give you one of our guest rooms, Your Royal Highness,” she said in a soft voice, “but we don’t want to make anyone aware of your position. Your mother particularly asked me not to, in the letter she sent me, so we gave you the room next to Lucy.” It was one of the old servants’ rooms on the top floor, with a view of the hills, the forests, and the lake on their estate. The room was just big enough for the bed, a chest, a small desk and a chair, and had been used for one of their maids before the war. There were only two of the women left now. Their rooms were down the hall, and no better than Charlotte’s. Since she had never visited any of the maids’ rooms in any of her parents’ palaces, she had no idea how it compared to theirs. But this was a small, dark, cheerless room with nothing to distinguish it, and nothing on the walls. On the way upstairs she had noticed that the manor was in need of paint, many of the curtains were shredded by the sunlight, and some of the rugs were threadbare in several places. The furniture was handsome, but the house itself was dark and drafty, cool in the summer months, but undoubtedly freezing cold in winter, heated only by the fireplaces in the rooms downstairs. It was not at all the kind of room that Charlotte was used to, and she still looked startled when she came downstairs to say goodbye to Felicity and Charles. They left as soon as they had eaten, to get back to London by that night, before the blackout. They were in a hurry to leave. Charlotte shook hands with both of them, and thanked them for accompanying her. Charles had to stop himself from bowing, and Felicity forgot herself and curtsied to her, but only the countess saw it. No one else was with them.

  Charlotte went back upstairs then to unpack her bags. She had to leave some of her clothes in her suitcase, for lack of closet and cupboard space, but she didn’t mind. She changed into her riding clothes, and was putting on her hat when Lucy walked into the room, and studied her keenly. Her riding habit was simple, but it was obvious that everything she owned was of the highest quality, perfectly cut, in fine fabrics, and fit Charlotte’s tiny form impeccably.

  “Are they your parents?” Lucy asked, referring to Felicity and Charles, and Charlotte shook her head, not sure what to say, and how to explain them. She noticed Lucy’s East End accent immediately.

  “They’re friends who offered to drive me here, since they have a car, and my parents don’t, and they couldn’t leave London.” It was all she could think of to say, to explain them, but a closer look would have identified them as employees, which Lucy hadn’t noticed. The thought never occurred to her, although she could see that Charlotte must be wellborn, from her manners, her accent, and her clothes. She was very pleasant to Lucy. “Do you ride?” Lucy responded by shaking her head with a look of panic.

  “I’m afraid of horses. They look like big frightening beasts to me. What do your parents do?” She wanted to know more about the intriguing newcomer. They spoke with very different accents. Charlotte with the distinct diction of the upper classes, and Lucy’s was pure London commoner. They came from two very different worlds.

  There was a pause as Charlotte sought rapidly for an answer to Lucy’s question about her parents. She hadn’t thought of what to say if anyone asked her. “My father works for the government as a civil servant, and my mother is a secretary.” It was a long way from the truth, but the best she could come up with. Lucy was a tall dark-haired girl with a plain pale face, and she seemed fascinated by Charlotte, though not particularly warm, and somewhat awkward. Charlotte felt like an intruder on the young woman’s turf, which was how Lucy viewed her. Everything had been perfect there till then, and she had Henry’s attention for herself, although he didn’t speak to her often or at great len
gth. At dinner, he spoke mostly to his parents about the farms, and ignored her.

  “That sounds fancy,” Lucy commented. “Where do you live?”

  “In Putney,” Charlotte answered quickly, and Lucy nodded, satisfied with her response. It was a pleasant middle-class neighborhood, and she believed her.

  “My father was a cobbler and my mother was a seamstress. She used to help him at the shop sometimes.” Lucy’s eyes filled with tears as she said it, and Charlotte wanted to reach out to her but didn’t dare. “Do you have brothers and sisters? I don’t have none. I’m alone now, and I will be when I go back to London after the war.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Charlotte said as Lucy nodded and turned away, as she wiped the tears from her cheeks, and Charlotte adjusted her riding hat, and said she had two sisters, and then picked up her crop and gloves, to go out to the stables. She could hardly wait to see Pharaoh, bringing him here was almost like having a friend from home with her. Charles had told her that her father was paying for his upkeep, so as not to be a burden on the Hemmingses. Her mother had told her that they were paying for her to stay there too. The Hemmingses were grateful to have the assistance, although slightly embarrassed to take it. They had no income from the farms at the moment, since all of what they grew was controlled by the government’s Ministry of Food, and they ate whatever was left. Several of the wives on the farms had planted home gardens, and kept chickens and rabbits to eat. And their daughters had joined the Women’s Land Army and become Land Girls.

  Lucy watched her go as Charlotte ran lightly down the stairs in her impeccable, perfectly shined riding boots. She saw the earl dozing in the small drawing room as she left. The countess had gone upstairs for a nap, and there was no one around, as she left the house and walked the short distance to the stables, circled by beautiful old trees. The gardens along the way were in need of attention and were sadly overgrown. The gardeners had been among the first to leave. One of the grooms was walking what appeared to be a very old horse, which Charlotte assumed was the Thoroughbred that the earl rode, when he still did. The countess had mentioned that he suffered from arthritis and seldom rode anymore.