Genre: Historical Fiction, Inspirational Fiction
Publisher: Shadow Mountain Publishing (October 4, 2022)
Based on the True Story of the Free-Spirited Daughter of Queen Victoria.
Princess Louise’s life is upended after her father’s untimely death. Captive to the queen’s overwhelming mourning, Louise is forbidden to leave her mother’s tight circle of control and is eventually relegated to the position of personal secretary to her mother―the same position each of her sisters held until they were married.
Already an accomplished painter, Louise risks the queen’s wrath by exploring the art of sculpting, an activity viewed as unbefitting a woman. When Louise involves herself in the day’s political matters, including championing the career of a female doctor and communicating with suffragettes, the queen lays down the law to stop her and devotes her full energy to finding an acceptable match for her defiant daughter.
Louise is considered the most beautiful and talented daughter of Queen Victoria but finding a match for the princess is no easy feat. Protocols are broken, and Louise exerts her own will as she tries to find an open-minded husband who will support her free spirit.
In the Shadow of a Queen is the story of a battle of wills between two women: a daughter determined to forge her own life beyond the shadow of her mother, and a queen resolved to keep the Crown’s reputation unsullied no matter the cost.
Excerpt
Papa was not getting better.
His symptoms had progressed from bad to worse.
“Gastric fever,” Louise muttered to herself as she turned page after page of Domestic Medicine. She was in the library late in the afternoon. The icy wind outside made it impossible for any outdoor activities. Arthur had asked her to play chess, but Louise couldn’t even bring herself to do that. She’d overheard the cook speaking to Eliza Collins, “Her Majesty told us that the doctor said there is no cause for alarm with gastric fever.”
Louise turned the page and landed on the description of gastric fever. Symptoms were high fever, headache, stomach pain, blotchy skin, and either constipation or diarrhea. Louise continued to read, her heart thumping harder with each symptom described.
Her father was seriously ill.
Above the sound of the wind, Louise heard an approaching carriage. She rose to look out the window. Were they to have a dinner guest? Mama had canceled all dinners and social events this past week and had taken meals in her room.
Alice had attended to Papa when Mama had to handle government business. But Louise and her younger siblings hadn’t been allowed near Papa’s convalescence.
Louise blinked when she saw the man exiting the carriage. She recognized his iron-gray hair and heavy brows immediately. It was George Wellesley, the dean of Windsor, who was Mama’s advisor on church matters.
Then Louise heard a familiar voice coming from the corridor. She hurried out of the library and saw Wellesley talking to her brother. “Bertie!” she breathed.
She rushed toward him, only slowing when she saw the grave look on both of their faces.
When Wellesley hurried away, she stepped forward, then wrapped her arms about Bertie. “I didn’t know you were coming home so early for Christmas.”
But Bertie wasn’t smiling, and his blue eyes didn’t have their usual twinkle. “I’m not here for Christmas, Loosy. I arrived at three o’clock this morning to see Papa.”
Louise stepped back at that. “Did Mama send for you?”
“Alice telegraphed me,” he said. “I had no idea the seriousness of Papa’s condition until I arrived.”
It was as if Louise’s stomach sank to the floor beneath her. “Is he very bad?”
“When’s the last time you saw him, Loosy?”
It had been a full week. “We’ve been kept away because of infection. The doctor said he has gastric fever, and there is no cause to worry. So we shall all have a happy Christmas together.”
Bertie’s eyes slid shut, and this scared Louise more than anything. “What is it?” she asked in a small voice.
When her brother opened his eyes again, they were clear. “Gastric fever is another name for typhoid fever. Does Mama not know this?”
Louise stared at her brother. The rock in her stomach turned and turned. Typhoid fever was fatal. No one survived it. Not even Papa’s Coburg cousins, who had been a king and a prince. “Are you sure?” It was a foolish question. She didn’t understand why Mama would be telling everyone that Papa would recover.
With a small nod, Bertie said, “Alice wouldn’t have telegraphed me it if hadn’t been serious. I’ve disappointed Papa greatly, but I hope he can forgive me before he leaves this life.”
Louise wanted to say of course Papa would forgive his oldest son and that he wasn’t going to truly die. Papa was young—forty-two. People Grandmama’s age died, and that was sad. But not people Papa’s age. Not the husband to the queen of England. Not her own father.
Bertie grasped her hand and squeezed it.
Not until he did that did she realize tears had fallen upon her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Loosy.” His throat bobbed as if he were trying to hold back his own tears.
She wiped at her face with her sleeve, not caring about the fabric. “Is Affie coming home too?”
“He’ll be notified by telegram, then he’ll come.”
Vicky was in Prussia—too far to come if Papa was so very close to the end. And Leo in France was also too far away.
“Can I see him?” she said in a half whisper.
“Not until Mama gives her permission.”
Louise bit her trembling lip and nodded. The tears were coming faster now, and she hadn’t even fully digested the news from her brother. Just seeing Bertie suddenly at Windsor had been a shock. And now . . . she felt dreadfully ill as her stomach plummeted, her body reacting faster than her mind.
Bertie draped an arm about her shoulders. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Loosy. No matter what happens, you always have me, all right?”
She nodded because her throat burned too hot to speak.
“Now, I’m going to sleep for a little bit, then return to the vigil.”
The word vigil should have never been part of her brother’s language that day. Bertie headed along the corridor alone. Louise felt rooted to the floor, stuck between two different times. The time before Bertie came, when she thought Papa was ill. And the time after, when she found out Papa was dying.
A sob hitched in her chest, then burst out of her. She ran. Down another corridor, then around a corner. She didn’t have a destination in mind. All she knew was that she had to move because the weight of the pain filling her limbs was so great, she was sure she’d sink right into the floor like a cannon.
Chapter 5, pages 31-34
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