Breakfast didn’t sit well with Amelia while she and Wallis inspected the baroque tables the antiques dealer had sent over for her selection.
“This one’s too large for the foyer. This one’s too small.” Wallis touched the tops of the tables and Amelia made a note to add them to the list of the ones going back. Wallis stopped in front of a gilded table with a marble top. “This is perfect. How much are they asking?”
Amelia checked the list. “Five thousand francs.”
“Offer them three thousand.”
Wallis and the Duke bought so many things for Boulevard Suchet and Château de la Croë, the antiques dealers weren’t likely to refuse and risk losing one of their most lucrative and notable clients.
“Let’s look at the side tables. I hope this lot is better than the last. I’m decorating the house like Versailles, not a New Orleans bordello.”
“Before we do, there’s something I need to discuss with you.” Amelia opened and closed her fingers on her notepad. As much as Amelia didn’t want to bring it up, this might be as good a time as any before the stress of moving to Château de la Croë began. “It’s about my business in America. I know Aunt Bessie told you some of it.”
“She said you were in need of a paying position, and was kind enough to remind me I was once young and without a husband or income. It’s awful, and naturally I wanted to help. Is there something more?”
“There is.” Amelia took a deep breath and told her about the outstanding legal fees, the new court case, and the letter requesting her appearance for a deposition. With every word, she waited for Wallis to erupt in rage and banish her from the house. She’d almost prefer that to the composed woman listening to her as if she were explaining the carpenters’ fees.
“Aunt Bessie didn’t tell me things were quite so dire.”
“I’m paying down the bill with my earnings, but if I have to return to America, it means I’ll be away.” She didn’t have the courage to mention she might need to borrow money for the fare. She was too busy trying to read Wallis’s reaction, to determine if this was the end of her employment or if things would simply carry on as usual.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Between the press, the title, the wedding, and Germany, I didn’t want to bother you with my troubles too.” She didn’t dare say she’d been afraid of being shipped off on the first boat to America if Wallis thought Amelia and her debts weren’t worth the risk. She should have had more faith in her cousin but after all the people who’d already abandoned or betrayed her, it was hard to trust even her.
“I hate to pry into your affairs, but how much do you owe?”
“Four thousand dollars.”
“Good heavens.” Wallis laid a hand on her chest, her engagement ring clinking against the jeweled flamingo brooch on the lapel of her blue suit with the yellow belt. “You’ll never pay it off on your salary.”
“I know.” It hung over her like a sword every time she wired half her pay to America while her savings stagnated and her future dwindled under the debt. “I’ve paid off some of it but this new suit threatens to raise it again.”
“You should have come to me sooner.”
“I’ve been fighting everything alone for so long, it’s hard to ask for help. I always think I can figure it out on my own.”
“Not anymore. I want to help you, the way you’ve helped me. You deserve it for putting up with me. I’ll discuss it with David. There has to be something we can do to ease the burden that bastard husband left you with.”
“Please don’t. It’s my problem to deal with. You don’t need to get involved.”
“Nonsense, and if you’re ever in trouble again, I want you to tell me at once.”
“I will.” Theodore was wrong. I can count on Wallis and I should have trusted her. Wallis had understood and was going to help her. She had no idea what Wallis or the Duke could do, but if they could get discounts on antiques and hotels, perhaps the power of their names and titles might work some miracle on her behalf.
“Good. A woman must make her own life, and I’d hate for you to be like me, past forty and finally finding it after too many difficulties and disappointments. Despite everything I’ve been through, I’ve never gone under, even when people tried to push me, and you won’t either. We’ll put our heads together and come up with some respectable method for you to make your way in this world.”
“I did have one idea. I’ve thought of opening my own secretarial agency and placing young women in good positions with society ladies.”
“What a wonderful idea, especially with all the old biddies in Europe. Finding employers will be like shooting fish in a barrel and give good women somewhere more illustrious to work than an insurance agent’s office.” A determined fire lit Wallis’s eyes and it caught hold inside Amelia.
“I hope so.”
“Hope will get you nowhere. Doing something will. I’ll speak with my friends and put the word out. We’ll build a list of potential employers and have you set up in no time. Not too soon, of course, because I’d be lost without you. Now, let’s get back to these tables before the Duke and I have to leave for the races. I need time to decide which broach and bracelet I’m going to wear with my new cream suit.”
Amelia followed her around the rest of the antiques, almost too giddy to concentrate on what was going or staying. If Wallis helped Amelia with the same determination she employed when tracking down the perfect foyer table, Amelia would soon be one step closer to building a life and future of her own.
July 1938, Château de la Croë, South of France
Amelia dug through the morning post, stopping at a letter from Robert. She usually left personal correspondence to the end of the day but she couldn’t resist opening his. They’d been writing to each other ever since she’d left Paris, their conversations in the post similar to the ones they’d enjoyed over coffee. He told her about the goings-on at the Embassy and she told him about dining with Maurice Chevalier and Marlene Dietrich and antique hunting with Wallis in Nice. This time, his letter wasn’t full of gossip but the news that Mr. Carlton, the Embassy attorney, had arranged for Amelia to respond in writing to the prosecutor’s questions instead of appearing in America. The Embassy attorney had also argued against her being included in the suit but the prosecutor hadn’t made a decision yet. It left Amelia with some hope that at least one of her problems might soon be resolved. She had no idea how to thank him but she knew where to start.
She picked up the telephone and dialed the Chancery. “Susan, it’s Amelia. I’m sending something special to Robert and Mr. Carlton. Can you make sure they’re delivered to their offices the minute they arrive?”
“Sure thing. Are they expensive?”
“Yes, but the salesman always gives me a discount because of how much Windsor business I send his way.”
“I told you that’d win him over. Can you get me a box of those exquisite chocolates you sent to Lisa from that little chocolatier, and at a discount?”
“I’ll ring them as soon as we’re off.”
“Thanks, you’re a gem.”
Amelia called the chocolatier, and once that was done, gathered up the recent invitations and her notepad and left the small gatehouse where she and Mr. Forwood worked. There wasn’t enough room inside the château for her and him to have an office. Amelia enjoyed the short walk with the stunning view of the ocean between the tall pines. The Duke’s yellow and black Duchy of Cornwall flag fluttered in the breeze on the flagpole at the top of the château. Amelia waved to him where he stood on his study balcony watching the yachts sail past Cap d’Antibes. He’d decorated the study to resemble a boat and christened it the Belvedere after his beloved home in England, the one he hadn’t seen in two years and wasn’t likely to visit anytime soon. Decorating it had amused him for a good part of the summer, giving Wallis a much-needed break from his cloying attention.
Amelia walked into the château and nodded to the footmen in their light gray summer uniforms. The Duke had designed the footmen’s attire, with light wool for summer and red wool with gold collars, cuffs, and buttons for the winter. More than one person had remarked on their similarity to the Buckingham Palace footmen’s uniforms, including the tailor Amelia had hired to sew them. Amelia stopped at the dining room door and looked at the painting of the Duke as a young man riding a horse. Beneath it stood the mahogany abdication desk with the red morocco-leather dispatch box on top.
