Previously: Mercenary Leon meets MI6 spies David, the Prince of Wales and socialite Wallis Spencer. David becomes king then abdicates to marry Wallis. He becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Sidney becomes a mercenary. Sidney saves David in a riot. David hires him as his valet.
As Wallis descended the ramp of the ocean liner at the port of Baltimore, cameras clicked. She ran her tongue across her teeth to make sure they were free of lipstick before smiling and striking a pose. Reporters shouted questions. Before moving on, she answered a few of them.
“I’m visiting my Aunt Bessie. She has been in declining health for some time, and she contacted me to drop in on her. I will not accept any social invitations during my visit.”
Bessie beamed when she walked in the door but her eyes went blank as she asked who her visitor was.
“I’m Wallis, remember? Your favorite niece.”
“Of course you are.” Bessie shook her head as though to brush away the cobwebs. “I’ve just gotten up from a nap and my mind is all fuzzy.” She paused as her eyes lit. “We must have a party while you’re here. We’ll invite your old friends from school—“
“But I wanted to spend my time with you alone.” Wallis patted her cheek.
“That might be boring for you, my dear,” Bessie replied. “I spend my time sleeping.”
Wallis laughed. “Well, I feel like a nap myself. The trip was quite fatiguing.”
“You go right ahead.” Bessie yawned. “I feel like resting my eyes too.”
When Wallis left the room, she whispered to the live-in nurse, “I really have business in Warrenton while here but I don’t want the newspapers to know if you understand what I mean.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
Wallis slipped her a few bills. “I’m sure Aunt Bessie won’t miss me.”
The Duchess took the midnight train to New York City. She wore her drabbest traveling attire and her overnight bag was so small it looked like a purse. Not a single reporter noticed she left Baltimore or arrived in New York. From the station Wallis hailed a taxi to take her to a seedy hotel. The next morning she went to a second-hand shop where she bought an old dress which could pass as a maid’s uniform. Then she bought a gray-haired wig and stage makeup at a theatrical supply store.
After she changed her attire and made herself look a decade older, Wallis sneaked into the servants’ entrance at the elegant Stanhope Hotel. She stood close to the room service phone answering it and responding the best she could to the clients’ requests. By sunset she sighed This mission she had assigned herself might take several days. The next call was from Lillian Turner, companion to Kiki Preston.
“Miss Preston would like a glass of milk before retiring.”
“But of course.” Wallis faked a French accent. “And what suite is that?” After Lillian replied, Wallis said, “I shall bring it right up.”
Wallis retrieved a glass of milk from the kitchen and called Kiki’s suite again, this time using an Appalachian twang.
“Miz Turner, this is the front desk and there is a delivery man who insists you come down personally right now to sign for a package.”
Lillian paused. “But I have a glass of milk coming up from the kitchen for Miss Preston right now.”
“Jest leave the door unlocked,” Wallis suggested in her twang. “This delivery man is being absolutely rude.”
“I suppose it won’t hurt.” Then Lillian hung up.
Wallis dashed for the service elevator and went up to Kiki’s suite. She slipped in the door and knocked at the bedroom.
“I have your milk, ma’am.” Wallis used her French accent. She stopped after entering and seeing Kiki in her pajamas. The former playgirl had gained weight over the years, and her face was puffy. Wallis put the glass on a table and strode toward her. “You look like hell.”
Kiki frowned. “Who are you?”
“Do you still have your silver syringe?”
Kiki clinched her jaw. “You are extremely vulgar.” She looked toward the sitting room. “Lillian?”
“Your friend isn’t here. No one to bail you out this time.”
“Leave my room immediately.” Kiki marched toward Wallis with her hand lifted to strike her.
Wallis knocked it away, like swatting a fly, then smirked. “Is that the best you can do?” Her face went blank. “You know George died.”
“Yes.”
“You have anything to do with it?”
Kiki tried to brush past her. “You must be insane.”
“Yes, I think I am. You have to be a bit insane to get along in this world.” Wallis pushed Kiki down on the bed. “We met once in a theater years ago. I told you to leave George alone.”
“I haven’t seen George since he married.”
Wallis saw fear enter Kiki’s eyes. “I don’t care.” She grabbed Kiki and pushed her toward the window. “You made his life hell. You have to pay.”
Wallis pushed her out the window and watched Kiki’s body hit the concrete. Blood flowed from her head.
“Bye, bye, Kiki.”
Going to the closet, Wallis pulled out a long plush coat and put it over her uniform. She took off the wig and brushed out her hair. In a few seconds she changed her makeup. Pushing the wig in a coat pocket, Wallis walked out of the suite. She saw an old woman leave the elevator, and Wallis turned the other way.
Back at the seedy hotel, Wallis left the coat, dress and wig under the bed. Wearing her drab traveling suit, she went to the station and caught a train to Warrenton. She spent the morning wandering through the Blue Ridge foothills gathering her favorite lethal herbs in case she might need them for some unforeseen situation. She stashed them in her overnight bag. By night she was back in Baltimore visiting Aunt Bessie again. After a long warm relaxing bath, of course.
Wallis stayed a few more days, patiently listening to Aunt Bessie ramble on about happier days. Over breakfast she read in the Baltimore newspaper about the suicide of Kiki Preston, socialite daughter of American industrialist Edwin Gwyn. She was related to the Vanderbilts. Wallis raised an eyebrow. She didn’t know that. Continuing her reading, Wallis did know what was written next. Kiki was addicted to several drugs which may have led to her suicide, police reports said.
Wallis smiled. Her plan had worked.
Another story did not make her smile. The newspaper reported the Duchess of Windsor was in Baltimore allegedly to visit her ailing aunt but experts on the British Royal family speculated the Duchess used her aunt as a subterfuge to buy the latest fashions.
Hmph. Baltimore doesn’t sell the latest fashions. Damn reporters. At least they don’t have any idea of why I really came to the States.
When Wallis arrived in Nassau, David was in conference with the Bay Street Boys, so she decided to spend the afternoon sitting in the private garden behind the Governor’s Palace. She was alone only a few minutes when Wallis heard footsteps behind her. Clicking heels.
“Duchess, I hope you don’t mind my intruding upon your meditations.”
Wallis looked up to see the blonde who came to David’s office with Harry Oakes. She smiled. The woman’s head seemed to be circled by a corona. Most of the time the other part of Wallis stayed submerged. Only a few women in her life had awakened it in her.
“No, not at all. Sit next to me on the bench.”
“My name is Aline.” She took her time positioning herself, crossing her legs just so. “I am Harry Oates’ assistant, but this visit is of a personal nature.”
“Oh?” Wallis held her breath. She acknowledged her depression over watching Aunt Bessie disappear even as she still lived. She also knew she had taken on David’s depression over the loss of his brother. This melancholia allowed her repressed feelings to emerge.
“While you were gone I accidentally ran into your husband. Once at the Rialto. He was having a solitary moment over his drink. I think he was missing you. A few days later we had a drink after a meeting of the Bay Street Boys. There were other encounters, I don’t remember where. The point is they were completely innocent.” She cocked her head and smiled in a shrewd manner. “People love to gossip, you know.”
Wallis laughed. “My dear, I’ve been married three times. I know all about gossip.”
“I think we spoke so often because we discovered we are distantly related.”
“Of course, because Victoria had so many children, almost everybody in Europe is related.”
Wallis’s eyes crinkled.
“Except I’m from Montana,” Aline added.
Wallis cackled. “You are so unpredictable! I just love you!”
Now why did I say that?”
“You see, my mother was a cousin of the Romanovs. She married a member of the Ribbentrop family, and they moved to Eleuthera.”
Ribbentrops. This is getting too personal by the minute.
“I thought only fishermen lived there,” Wallis mumbled, half stammering.
“That’s what they thought too. The Bolsheviks caught up with them and killed her husband. A local boy saved her, and she went to Montana. That’s where I was born.”
“Then how did you get to the Bahamas?” Wallis lit a cigarette.
“My mother died and I had to live with my father.” Aline paused. “I might as well tell you. My father is Harry Oakes.”
“You poor child,” Wallis whispered.
“He’s a crook.” Tears filled Aline’s eyes. “I know things…” Her voice trailed off. She stared at Wallis. “I’ve only met you, but I feel I can trust you.”
Wallis turned to Aline but refrained from hugging her. “Of course you can trust me.”
“I want Nassau to be honest, and it can’t be honest with my father in charge—yes, he’s in charge.” She paused. “I can tell you things I couldn’t tell the Duke.”
“Come to me with anything. I’ll protect you.”
“Thank you.” Aline put her hand on Wallis leg and smiled. “Silk. I’m not surprised.”
Wallis tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come.
Aline smiled. “I have a lovely secluded apartment not far from here. And the neighbors are discreet.”
“How interesting.” Wallis could not think of anything else to say.