Previously: Mercenary Leon fails a mission because of David, better known as the Prince of Wales. Socialite Wallis Spencer is also a spy. MI6 makes them a team. David becomes king. David abdicates, they marry and he becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Leon becomes a mercenary and makes friends with Nassau street boy.
By April of 1942, Jessie Donohue’s intrigues to have the Duke and Duchess of Windsor dine at Cielito Lindo had come to fruition. During the great escape of socialites from Europe as Germany invaded France, Jessie gave shelter to Lord Sefton, allowing him to stay at Cielito Lindo until he received orders from the crown. Sefton had been a Lord-in-Waiting to David and remained an ally to the duke after the abdication. She pressed Sefton to inform the Duke of Windsor about the grandeur of Jessie’s winter home. She also suggested to her niece Barbara Hutton to insinuate herself into Wallis’ life.
Now Jessie waited with patience in her drawing room seated in a red velvet tufted arm chair next to her Renaissance fireplace. Patience. A virtue she had developed into a fine art.
She heard a commotion in the entry hall. The Windsors had arrived. Her sons Wooly, now twenty-nine, and Jimmy, now twenty-six, had greeted them. They were both handsome. The older Wooly had no spine and the younger had no morals; however, they practiced the highest form of social graces when necessary.
The first voice to echo down the marbled hall was that of the duke. She had heard it enough in the newsreels to recognize it.
One of the boys must have said something amusing. Probably Jimmy. Wooly didn’t have a sense of humor.
As the hubbub became louder, Jessie pulled out her compact and looked in the mirror. She lifted her left hand to pat her jaw.
If only someone could invent a makeup to create the illusion she had a chin. Too late for that.
She picked up a powder puff and daubed a dark shade of beige under her jaw line. Jimmy’s shrill laughter pierced the air. The duke, duchess and entourage was upon her. Jessie forced her best naïve smile upon her face and stood just as the couple entered the room, as she knew they would one day. Jessie had very good connections.
“My dear Mrs. Donohue,” David announced. “Your son has the most remarkable sense of humor.”
She looked at Jimmy and smiled.
“When I introduced myself as the Duke of Windsor, Wooly replied, ‘I am the duke of Cork’.”
Jessie’s jaw dropped. She had never heard Wooly make a joke in his life.
“Don’t worry,” David added. “I know he was referring to his Irish heritage. How clever.”
She glanced at Jimmy who rolled his eyes. Recovering her sense of decorum, she curtsied first to the duke and then to the duchess. While royal command forbade such a greeting to Wallis, Jessie did it any, just to get on the duchess’ good side.
Hooking her arm around Wallis’ elbow, she led her to French doors to her formal garden.
“I want you to meet my dear friends who will be dining with us today.”
Outside were twenty-five people dressed as though they were about to be presented to the King and Queen. Jessie was pleased to see they had practiced their bows and curtsies.
Footmen, costumed for an Austrian operetta, entered, each with a glass of champagne on small silver trays, one for every single guest. After a respectable amount of time the butler opened another set of French doors on the other side of the garden which led to an Italianate dining room. The footmen attended well to each guest.
Jessie placed David next to her, Wallis next to Jimmy while Wooly was hopelessly lost among the other guests.
“I know you are Anglican so I hope you don’t mind I invited the monsignor of our local diocese to offer the blessing.”
“Of course not,” David replied with smile. “We English haven’t burned a priest at the stake in years.”
Jimmy emitted a ruffian’s guffaw which Jessie found inappropriate; but after all, he was her little Jimmy.
The priest performed a short bland prayer, and the footmen served the salad in small bowls from the eighteenth century. Jessie had just started her salad when she noticed the muscles in David’s jaw flex as he masticated his lettuce. She leaned into him.
“I hope you enjoy the tomatoes,” she whispered. “They are grown locally.”
“Good for you.” David daubed his mouth with a linen napkin before adding, “I urge everyone to buy local produce. It helps stimulate the economy, don’t you think?”
Jessie paused to consider his blue eyes. No matter how much he tried with his pleasant demeanor he could not hide their innate sadness. For the first time in many years, she felt a twinge of romance undulate through her body.
“Oh my God, Mummy!” Jimmy exclaimed. “You should see this brooch on Wallis’s shoulder.” He turned to the duchess and smiled. “You don’t mind if I call you Wallis, do you?”
“Of course not.”
She replied in such a gracious fashion Jessie could not tell if Wallis were being sincere or not. Jessie admired that quality in a woman.
“It’s a flamingo made up of emeralds, rubies diamonds—and what are the blue stones?”
“Sapphires,” Wallis filled in as she raised her napkin to her mouth.
“Mummy, you’d just kill to have this flamingo.” He giggled. “Am I telling too many family secrets?”