Previously: Mercenary Leon meets MI6 spies David, the Prince of Wales, and socialite Wallis Spencer. David abdicates the throne to marry Wallis. He becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Sidney turns mercenary. David hires him as his valet. Wallis eases the pain of Ribbentrop’s hanging.
David didn’t know how many more parties he could host serving beans and hamburger. Wallis appeared to revel in the menu, as though it was some private joke. Golf was the only pastime that pleased him.
His ennui didn’t last too long because he and Wallis soon received invitations from old friends both in Europe and in America. With the host paying, of course. David kept strict books and knew he had enough of his inheritance left to last his lifetime, but his unsettled situation made him insecure about his finances. Opportunities for others pay for his lodging, food and drink soothed his anxieties for a while.
In late 1947, while the Windsors visited Lord and Lady Dudley in London, someone stole Wallis’s suitcase of jewelry. She accused Lady Dudley’s personal maid, which upset her ladyship. Sidney offered to survey the snowy grounds of the Dudley estate for the missing gems. He found the empty case and retrieved a few diamonds in the snow but nothing else. David couldn’t care less about the burglary, but he loved the free holiday.
The Windsors didn’t get invited to Princess Elizabeth’s wedding. David always liked Lillibet when she was a child so he was a bit miffed at the snub. He and Wallis found wealthy friends in Palm Springs, Florida, to assuage their hurt feelings. Often they were in the company of the Donohues. David could tell Wallis enjoyed the extraordinary dancing skills of Jimmy, which made David happy. He had to endure endless dances with Jimmy’s mother Jessie who talked incessantly about their family wealth. After one particular party Wallis noticed Jessie wore a necklace which looked like the one stolen in London. David said it was just her imagination.
As they bounced around Europe and America, David’s weltschmerz didn’t abate. Wallis suggested he write his autobiography—omitting the parts about MI6—and call it “A King’s Story.” The project took a year for him to write, but the book was a bestseller around the world, which solidified his already substantial income.
Also in in the late forties they decided to give up their lease on La Croe because of growing tensions with the Soviet Union. They didn’t want a repeat of their narrow escape in 1940.
By 1950, the Windsors found themselves more and more often being invited to spend time with the Donohues. Jimmy amused Wallis, and the visits was free.
Even though David had enough money to live in royal style the rest of his life, he couldn’t control his fear he would wind up, in the words of Mark Twain, both a prince and a paper. So when Jessie and Jimmy invited them to join them on their private yacht for a fun cruise in the Mediterranean, he didn’t see any harm in saying yes.
David’s interest in parties and dancing waned, but Wallis was insatiable for good times. While Jimmy and the Duchess danced the night way, David was content to sit with Jessie, smoke and pretend to listen to her prattle. This had been his forte as the Prince of Wales, and he was proud of his ability to feign interest.
During the day while Wallis and Jimmy toured the town, David played a round of golf. Jessie said she had a date for a game of bridge, but David suspected she napped instead.
When they returned to New York, David relented to Jessie’s demands they join the Donohues for the winter season in Palm Beach. Their group was smaller than expected—Wooly married and spent most of his time with his wife’s family.
On New Year’s Eve at midnight when the band played in 1952, Jessie grabbed David and was going in for a big kiss when the duke deftly turned his head. Her heavily rouged lips landed on his sallow cheek.
“Well, you’re chintzy with those kisses.” Jessie was in a huff.
David observed Jimmy planting a long buss on Wallis’ snake-like thin lips. David tried to pretend he didn’t care, but he did care, which upset his world in a most uncomfortable way.
Deciding they needed a respite from the Donohues, David lured Wallis onto renting a house in the Bois de Boulogne in Paris. Wallis hugged him around the neck and delved into remodeling it, which took her mind off the tall, slender blond man who shared her interest in dancing and gay repartee.
David’s brother Bertie the king died unexpectantly of lung cancer. The family invited him to the funeral, of course, but Wallis was left to her own devices which David suspected included Jimmy. He and his last surviving bother Harry marched in the funeral cortege behind Bertie’s casket. David could not help but wonder how the rest of his life would play out.
When he returned to Paris, David found the Donohues were visiting Bois de Boulogne. He swore Wallis’s cheeks flushed and her eyes twinkled, which disconcerted him. He hadn’t seen her so happy since those days in the Bahamas when they shared Aline. David observed Jimmy looked happy also. Within a few days Jessie talked Wallis into throwing a Valentine’s ball. The Woolworth heiress wore a glittering red gown cut low to reveal a bosom that should have never been exposed to the public in the first place. Wallis, on the other hand, wore a stylish high-neck creation from Schiaparelli.
Worse than that, David found himself in the awkward position of receiving dance lessons from the dowager widow.
“No, no,” Jessie lectured. “Extend your left foot. I thought a king of England would have known that.”
And then she pinched his butt.
Pulling away, David nodded to a group of men in the corner. “Excuse me, Jessie, but I think I see some people I haven’t met yet.”
He withdrew and with admirable speed introduced himself to the men who were engaged in smoking cigars and sipping whiskey. Within a few moments he realized he was within ear shot of Jimmy, who was regaling a young set of gentlemen. The dashing Donohue waved at Sidney who was carrying a silver tray of champagne glasses. One of Jimmy’s friends looked over at Wallis, smirked and whispered into Jimmy’s ear. David didn’t catch the question, but Jimmy roared his answer.
“Oh, my dears, it was like sleeping with an old sailor.”
As the young men laughed, Sidney stumbled and spilt the entire tray of champagne on Jimmy, who took the incident with good humor.
“Now, my dears, I suppose I must remove all my wet clothing right here in front of you!”
David didn’t know how much more attention he could take from Jessie or Jimmy. He soon found excuses to play golf instead of attending to his house guests. He sighed in relief when he heard in 1953 his mother was dying. He took the long flight back to London to be by her bedside. Once again he made the dutiful walk down the street behind her casket.
Evidently Jessie caught the hint David wasn’t going to be her lover and politely spent her time between Palm Beach and New York sans royalty.
Finally in 1954, while sharing a private dinner with Wallis and Jimmy in their favorite suite in a New York Hotel, David had enough of the crass American. The incident began innocuously enough when Jimmy lifted a lettuce leaf from Wallis’s salad plate and ate it.
“Don’t do that! It’s very rude!” She slapped Jimmy’s hand.
David thought nothing of it at first because Wallis had slapped his hand several times at the dinner table, and he found it amusing.
Jimmy did not. He kicked Wallis hard in the shin. She fell to the floor crying.
“We’ve had quite enough of you, Jimmy!” David barked.
Young Donohue knew when to make a quick exit. David helped Wallis to the sofa next to the dining table. Examining the wound, he saw that the kick had drawn blood. His fingers trembling, he reached up her dress to pull down the stocking. He dipped her napkin into her water glass from the table and daubed the blood away.
“How could he do such a thing?” Her voice whimpered.
“Because we let him,” David whispered. After a moment he added, “Do you think you can walk to your bedroom?”
“Of course, I can. He didn’t really hurt my leg. It was my pride that he hurt.”
“What a scoundrel.” David helped her to her feet. “I’ll take you to your bedroom. Put on your laciest nightgown and crawl into bed. And I’ll join you wearing my silk pajamas. And we’ll make love.”
Wallis wrinkled her brow as she limped to her bedroom. “But, David, we’ve never—I can’t.”
“No, no. I don’t mean in the crass, modern American way, but the way people made love when we were young. Soft, gentle, with tender words.”
She caressed his cheek. “I wish we had done this sooner.”
David sat her on the bed, nestled close to her, and whispered, “We shall hold each other in our arms, and pretend we made mad passionate love in all the exotic places in the world. Then we’ll giggle at our lies, until we fall into a deep slumber, made warm by all the love we’ve always had for each other.