Chapter Text
It was dark and raining on the drive back to Gatcombe after her last engagement of the day, and that she wasn't driving herself was proof of how tired Anne was. She leaned back in her seat and watched the raindrops slide past the dark window next to her. Anne wasn't only physically exhausted after a long day of engagements spread over half the country. No, she was tired of it all.
She wanted to do nothing more than tell them all to shove it. To stay home with her children, take care of the farm and their horses at Gatcombe, and leave the rest behind. Anne was tired of the ongoing slander of her person in the media, of the questions that still didn't stop, the prying into her personal life, and her failed marriage.
What is it like knowing your husband fathered multiple children outside of your marriage?
What did the reporter think it was like? To learn just how big her husband's betrayal had been. To have her personal matters laid out in every paper and discussed on TV and radio shows? Free game for everyone to judge, comment, and speculate on. While it had truly surprised Anne that quite a few papers and people were on her side, that didn't mean it stopped the ones that weren't from having a field day of dragging her through the mud.
They took every opportunity to make fun of her or the situation. Given that her husband slept around with everything female, their favourite take was that Anne must have been such a horrible wife in the sheets that her husband was all but forced to share his bed with everyone except her.
Anne had known that this would happen when she received that phone call and the following letter. She thought about it intensely and waged the pros and cons, but there hadn't been enough to force herself to stay married to Mark. With the undeniable proof that he had fathered a child with another woman, all doubt, as well as all emotional attachment to Mark, had been severed.
"I got a phone call a little over a week ago," Anne had started the conversation when Mark sat down across from her in her office at Gatcombe that evening nearly a year ago.
"That doesn't seem important enough to have a conversation with you right now. I'm actually working, you know?"
"Trust me, that phone call was that important, even more for you, though I won't lie. It does come in handy for me as well. As does the letter that came yesterday." Anne answered, not responding to the slight against her and that she wasn't really working. Instead, Anne leaned forward and placed the copy of the letter and the attached picture in front of Mark.
"I believe you haven't seen your other daughter in a while. You can keep the picture of her; it was taken quite recently, so you won't forget what she looks like."
Mark first frowned at the letter and the picture of the little girl, who was only two months younger than Zara, then paled. At that moment, Anne knew with certainty that everything Ruth had told her was true, and Mark had indeed fathered her child.
"What the fuck is this? I don't know that girl, and I'm surely not her father."
"Oh, I'm aware you don't know her; you refuse to even acknowledge her to this day after all and at least be of some financial support."
"What the hell, Anne! A random mad woman calls and tells you I fathered her child, and you just believe her? Have you lost your mind?" Mark asked, outraged, his voice raising in volume but keeping himself from shouting at her and alerting anybody else to their conversation.
"I wouldn't have believed a word she said if I wasn't well aware you were fucking around everywhere you go. She described the situation you met, and it matched your calendar. She also described you naked in detail, which I dearly hope is not common knowledge, and she was also able to tell me about things in our lives at the time nobody outside the family knew. So don't sit here and pretend I'm the idiot!" Anne fought back.
"What does she think is going to come from this? Is she blackmailing you?" Mark asked, crumbling the letter slightly as he clenched his fist. Anne almost laughed, blackmailing her? He was the one who fathered a child outside their marriage, and he asked if she was the one blackmailed?
"Why would she blackmail me? I didn't get her pregnant, and whether you believe it or not, she didn't mention telling anybody once. What she wants is for you to take the bare minimum of responsibility and at least help her to keep a roof over your child's head and food on the table." Anne told him and watched as both realisation and defeat began to take hold of Mark. He threw the letter away from him and buried his face in his hands.
When she had been told about the girl and what Mark had done, Anne thought this might bring her satisfaction and that it would feed and sate the anger, humiliation and betrayal she felt. But while she still felt angry and betrayed, there were no real emotions regarding her next words. No great sorrow, doubts, or what she had once mistaken for love.
"There was also no need for her to blackmail me or you because it won't stay a secret forever. I will file a petition for divorce." Mark's head shot up so fast he ruined his hair, but he didn't notice nor care as he stared at her in shock.
"What?"
"I will file a petition for divorce, Mark. I can't go on like that. I don't want to go on like that. This marriage, our relationship, has failed. So, let's stop pretending and put an end to it before it becomes a farce, for Peter's and Zara's sake, as well as our own." Anne told him, and it took Mark another moment to regain his composure, only for a fury to appear on his face, which she had seldom seen before. For barely a second, Anne wondered if he would strike her; before banishing that thought, he wouldn't. There were a lot of lines Mark would cross, but not that one. If only because he had to know she would come down on him like a ton of bricks and his reputation could never survive it; cheating on her was one thing, violating her another.
"You can't be serious; you can't do that!" Mark hissed through clenched teeth.
"I can, and I will."
"Your mother will never allow you to divorce me," he scoffed. Anne already wanted to shoot back, saying she wasn't seeking permission or approval for this, but she held back. She knew it would only result in another shouting match, so she took a different approach.
"Do you love me?" as Anne had expected, that rightly took the wind out of his sails, and he blinked at her perplexed.
"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me, and I mean only me? Being tied to the royal family and the publicity? Do you truly want that, Mark?" She knew his answers to all of this; he didn't love her anymore and didn't want to spend the rest of his life with her, and he had always hated everything that came with being part of the royal family. Anne's own answers weren't entirely different from his, except for not hating everything that came with being a member of the royal family.
"Who's the other man?" That he even dared to ask caused Anne to snap.
"Don't you fucking dare, Mark! You've been close to fucking every woman you ever came across! That's a picture of your illegitimate daughter here, you bellend, whom you fathered while I was already pregnant with our second child! While I do several engagements per day all over the country, do real work for real charities in third-world countries, and try to be a good mother for our children and a decent wife, I had no time to look for a lover, unlike you!" Anne threw the letter and picture at Mark.
"So don't ask me if I have found another man! Just because you started to look for somebody else the moment, I wouldn't throw myself on my back and spread my legs doesn't mean I did as well." Anne shouted at him and felt angry tears prickling in her eyes.
For a moment, she was tempted to tell him she had found a wonderful man who had managed in a handful of days what Mark couldn't in several years. Make her truly happy, and with just conversations, no hugs, no kisses, except the one they parted over, and no sex. Just with regular everyday conversations, Tim made Anne fall in love with him effortlessly despite knowing they could never be together. So, unlike Mark, Anne hadn't betrayed him, even if she wanted to. She wanted to tell Mark she had never regretted marrying him more than when she met this remarkable man, who was everything Mark could never be.
"We will get a divorce even if it's the last thing I do, and if I must leave the damn country, then I will because I cannot stay married to you. And we will put an end to this now for the sake of our children before this gets any worse and any hope of decent parenting is lost. I don't want to drag them through an ugly war between us because it's not their fault we fucked up.
"You will move out, you can keep all your money, you can go look for suitable women to share your bed without scrutinisation and in general do what you want without anybody from the firm getting involved. We can figure something out regarding Peter and Zara, I won't keep you away from them, and we can share custody."
Looking properly defeated this time, Mark stared at her before he rubbed his hands over his face and sighed.
"You really think you thought this one through, don't you?"
"Yes, I do."
"This is going to destroy our reputation." And whose fault was that? But Anne kept this thought to herself.
"That's a risk I'm willing to take."
"Ma'am? We have arrived." Anne had been so deep in her thoughts that it had taken her driver two attempts to get her attention. Quickly shaking off her thought of her soon-to-be ex-husband, she sat up straight and gathered her briefcase.
"My apologies! Thank you, and have a safe drive back; good night!" she said with a smile, and her driver returned the gesture with a smile of his own and a nod.
"You're welcome. Have a good evening, Ma'am," he replied, and with that, Anne got out of the car and hurried to get inside her home through the rain, which had picked up quite a bit during the last minutes of the drive. She went straight to her office to finish her work for the day and be able to enjoy the two days off that would follow.
Placing her coat on one of the chairs and dumping her briefcase rather carelessly on her desk, Anne sat down in her own chair and closed her eyes. While she was looking forward to spending time with her children, the same could not be said about everyone in her family. Anne knew her mother struggled with her divorce even if she was supporting her and came to an understanding as to why. Her grandmother still refused to speak to her since the day they found out about her intentions.
They sat together after finishing their dinner at Windsor Castle. Anne had planned a dinner with her parents under the disguise of discussing her plans regarding Christmas, to tell them about her separation and intention of divorcing Mark. She hadn't accounted for her grandmother, aunt, and two of her brothers spontaneously attending as well.
"Shall we go over your Christmas plans, Anne?" the Queen asked her daughter before looking at her sons, "If there are any possible changes to your plans, you're welcome to bring them up as well."
Anne had definitely not planned to tell almost her whole family. It was complicated enough to tell her mother and father; she wasn't worried about Charles and Edward, but her grandmother and aunt were another story. Especially her grandmother. Taking a deep breath, Anne faced her mother.
"Well, I wanted to let you know that Mark won't be at Sandringham with us this year. In fact, he won't be attending any official or private gatherings anymore. Mark and I have separated, and we will divorce." Despite her increasing heartbeat, Anne kept her head up and voice steady.
A shocked silence took hold of the whole room; nobody moved, and it seemed nobody even breathed while everyone stared at Anne.
"What?" the Queen asked, utterly bewildered. But before Anne could say anything, her grandmother had overcome her shock.
"You can't be serious! What is wrong with half the women in this family? There aren't many expectations for you; one is to find respectable matches, and you find them only to drive those men away! A marriage is not that difficult; it's a give and take, and you sometimes do things you'd rather not and keep your mouth shut. But most of all, if you find yourself inadequate for marriage, you don't shame yourself and this family in leaving and behaving like whores. You stay silent and married and just get on with it!" her grandmother was still shaking by the end of her rant, and Anne bit her tongue. She had expected something of the sort, but it still hurt.
"I tried to make this marriage work, not only for my sake but for the sake of our children and this family. I won't pretend I didn't make mistakes-"
"Well, that seems evident, and you couldn't have tried that hard if your husband prefers the company of every woman which isn't you!"
"Enough!" Surprisingly, it wasn't only her father speaking up but also Charles.
"I don't think you truly understand what that bastard has put Anne through!? Do you think he's just discreetly philandering? He's been treating her like dirt for years."
"Charles." Anne tried to interrupt him before he said too much. She didn't want the rest of her family to know everything that had happened. But her brother didn't stop.
"Do you know what happened when Zara was born?" Anne, previously still holding her grandmother's glare, turned to look at her brother.
"Stop it, Charles!"
"What is he talking about?" the Queen asked, her eyes shifting between her two eldest children.
"You all think Mark was there when Zara was born or was called and rushed there. Well, actually, Anne's staff tried to reach him for hours, but he was busy with another woman. Her lady-in-waiting called, she told me she had reached him, but he chose to stay with that woman instead of attending the birth of his own child or at least trying to get there! So, I drove there, I was there! And I felt sorry I was too late to let Anne know that somebody was there, and she wasn't all alone! He never apologised for not being there, even after he learned there had been a chance he never would've met his own child because Zara wasn't breathing when she was born!
"That still wasn't enough for him to change! He blamed her for what happened at Zara's birth, he belittles everything she does, calls her disgusting names, and Anne never once complained or even said one word to you! Why do you think she never told you any of this? Because she doesn't mind it? Or because she knew there would be little to no help from her own family?"
Once again, everyone's eyes were turned on her if they had ever left. Anne hated the looks they gave her, hated how she felt her cheeks burn hot with the shame she felt.
"You promised not to tell," Anne told her brother, unable to keep the anger and betrayal she felt out of her voice. She knew deep down he wanted to help her, and he was in her corner, but this wasn't his story to tell. Anne was also surprised that Charles knew that in their first argument following Zara's birth, Mark had blamed her for what had happened and that Zara hadn't been breathing. She had never told a soul about that, and she doubted Mark had told her older brother.
"If we going to go through every humiliating thing, then we might as well get to the reason I will divorce him. He fathered a child, his daughter, with a twenty-three-year-old riding instructor in Sussex is two months younger than Zara. Mark admitted it, I also doubt this is his only illegitimate child, so I will divorce him. If you may excuse me." With that, Anne stood from the table, and without another look or word to anybody, she left the room.
Anne wasn't sure if she had expected someone to come after her or if she wanted company at all. But when the door opened a few minutes later, the last person she had expected to come looking for her was her aunt.
"I suppose we might open an exclusive club, "Divorced Royal Daughters" What do you say?" Margaret proposed as she came to stand next to her niece in front of the window in Anne's room.
"That a club with only two members is quite a shit one." Anne simply replied, and her aunt chuckled. They stayed silent for a while, looking at the lights of Eton in the distance.
"They will come around eventually. Your father looked close to murder already, so you won't have to worry about him, and the fact that you're less to blame in this than I ever was, and she still talks to me, it won't take long for your mother to accept it as well. The opinion of your grandmother couldn't matter less."
"I really tried…and I might have managed to stay married to him, live with the fights and the insults. But he crossed that line over and over again, and I just can't. I won't do that." Anne said, not looking at her aunt.
"He was never the right one for you."
"Well, thank you for twisting the knife."
"No, darling. I mean that he was the lucky one to be married to a wonderful woman like you, and that blind fool not only failed miserably as your husband, he never even realised what he had. You deserve so much better," her aunt replied as she took Anne's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Aunt Margot had been right; her father, much like her brothers, had been on her side from the beginning. The day after her revelations, Anne told her mother and father all about her marriage in a private conversation. No matter how humiliating and shameful Anne thought them to be, she did not leave out one detail since her mother demanded to know the whole truth.
There had been tears in Anne's eyes for most of the conversation, but true to herself, she had been determined not to let them fall in front of her parents. They didn't, not until her father had embraced her and held her in his arms; only then had the dam been broken, and Anne allowed her carefully built walls to fall apart for once.
After that, to her honest surprise, her mother had allowed her to divorce Mark, albeit not as enthusiastically as her father. They talked about how they would proceed with things; there had been conversations with her and Mark, with their lawyers and the press office of the palace. Followed by all that was the day they told Peter and Zara.
It had shocked Anne a little that, while they were certainly not indifferent or happy, they also weren't entirely sad. While they were both too young to understand what had happened, especially Zara, they had little fears and worries about their parent's separation. Anne did hope it was because their children knew they still loved them and would put what was best for them before their differences and problems. And not because their marital problems had been so obvious even to their children that they preferred their parents apart.
After the news had been made public, more women had come forward admitting to having slept with her husband, and a few had claimed to have a child with him. Not that Anne hadn't expected something of the sort. Though it made nothing better or even easier, only two of those claims were proven true. When it had been hurtful to learn Mark had fathered a child while she was pregnant with Zara, finding out one son was almost two years older than Peter had been devastating. Not the least because Anne had truly believed he hadn't cheated on her before her pregnancy with Peter.
"Ma'am?" For the second time that night, Anne was pulled out of her thoughts by a member of her staff. Opening her eyes, she saw Julia standing in the doorway to her office with a cup of tea in hand.
Since the day she began working for her, Julia had been the one to always ignore Anne's word to her staff that they could finish their day on time and didn't have to wait for her when she returned home late in the evening or at night. On nights like this, Anne was quite thankful for it.
"Yes?"
"Since I know it will be of no good to suggest you might turn in for the night, I thought you might like some tea, Ma'am," Julia said, and Anne couldn't help but smile.
"That might just be what I need. Thank you." Julia walked in and placed the cup and saucer next to Anne on the desk. "I hope my children behaved halfway decent today; I know they can get a little overexcited before a visit to their grandparents."
"From what I've seen and heard, they behaved well and were not unlike any other day."
"Better than nothing, I suppose," Anne answered, and both women smiled. Then Julia's expression changed as she appeared to remember something.
"Oh, before I forget, Ma'am, there came a letter today…not through your office but here directly." Her housekeeper informed her, and Anne forced herself not to react much or appear too excited at the news. Even if a small part of her suspected Julia knew these were no ordinary letters from some friends or distant family, for whenever one of those mystery letters arrived, Anne's mood instantly lifted, and she was happy no matter what was written or said about her.
"Thanks' for letting me know, Julia. I'll try to work my way through some of this paperwork now. I doubt I'll be more motivated for that after coming home on Sunday."
"Understandably. Have a good night, Ma'am," Julia told her, and Anne smiled.
"Good night."
The second Anne was alone, she began searching for the letter. Only when she lifted her briefcase did she find the most recent stack of letters, and under them was the one addressed to Mrs A. Philips. She hated seeing that name written in his handwriting, and while it provided a lowkey address for anything not related to Princess Anne and her work, she just couldn't wait to get rid of that name.
The first letter had arrived only two weeks after they had returned from Balmoral, that time, of course, the official way. It was a short letter simply asking if she would like to stay in contact through letters and keep their friendship up. Anne had thought about it for a while and asked herself if it was wise to stay in contact with the man she was still in love with, even though she should have forgotten him.
But as much as her mind warned her it was stupid to indulge this, that it would only cause them pain, she couldn't bring herself to decline Tim's offer. And she was glad she did because even if Tim couldn't be with her, in more sense than one, he was a great support and a source of strength for Anne the moment she separated from Mark. Especially when it all became public.
While they wrote of personal matters as well as those of their work life, they never crossed a particular line and, without writing a word about it, knew these letters had to appear to anybody who might get their hands on them as only those of friendship. But it was more than enough for Anne, and through little unsuspicious things, they were still able to let each other know what they really meant to each other. That neither of them had yet forgotten their days on the Britannia nor given up on their feelings for one another.
Tim's letters was one of the few things that brought her genuine joy these days. So, Anne quickly opened the letter to read what Tim had written to her in his penmanship, which had become so familiar to her.
Dear Anne,
I hope you are doing well and that this letter reaches you faster than the last one and before I leave Australia. One thing I certainly won't miss is the constant sunburn. I'm afraid I will have to say goodbye to my best friend here, my cooling box; what a faithful and loyal companion it was! It will receive an honourable funeral.
I dearly hope things are finally quieting down and the tabloids leave you alone, giving you back some privacy. That, too, has been an advantage of Australia; the tabloid news from home rarely reach Down Under, and they have their own nonsense to write about.
How are Peter and Zara? Has Zara demanded a bigger pony already? She seems to be determined to walk in your footsteps. And I know I'm terribly late on it, but how did Peter's football game at his school go? I hope they won and that he has yet to lose his interest in ships, for I have found him a little gift (Zara as well), and I will mail them to you once I get back home. I don't want them to get lost as well.
I'm afraid I don't know when I'll be able to write again, and just to be safe, I suggest that you send any reply to my home address since I'm not sure how fast my departure here will proceed.
Looking forward to hearing from you again and wishing you all the best in the meantime!
Yours truly,
Tim
Like always, his words never failed to put a smile on her face, and her heart beat faster with joy and ached in pain that they could never be more than this. Anne read the letter a couple more times, almost knowing the words by heart at the end.
Anne played with the idea of writing a reply immediately but decided against it. She would probably fail to write an adequate answer now. She would also drive to Windsor Castle reasonably early the next day with her children, so Anne would better try to get a halfway decent night of sleep. Drives over half an hour went scarcely by without at least one argument.
Listening to the voice of reason, Anne went to bed instead, though not before putting the letter in the secret compartment in one of the drawers at her desk where all of Tim's letters lay. But sleep did not come quickly with the letter still heavy on her mind. When Anne finally did fall asleep, she did so with a slight smile on her lips.
"I'm sorry for letting you wait!" the Queen called out as she approached Anne in the gardens, who was watching her children play with the Corgis. Anne quickly curtsied before she placed a quick kiss on her mother's cheek.
"It's fine, really. We have all the time, and I think it's rather good the two have some time to get some of that energy out. It's like an equation with the two; half an hour of sitting still equals one hour of activities."
"Much like you then," her mother teased, and Anne huffed.
"Yes, but you only had one of that kind." At precisely that moment, Peter and Zara noticed their grandmother and came running over to greet her and tell her about everything they had been up to since they last saw her.
"Give your grandmother time to answer, you two!" Anne said in a rather half-hearted attempt to slow them down. Her mother tried her best to squeeze in an answer or two between her oldest grandchildren, barely able to hold in a laugh at their antics.
Once Peter and Zara had passed on their reports on everything important that had happened, they soon ran off to finish their game with the dogs before lunch was ready to be served.
Mother and grandmother continued watching over them and catching up on everything on their own.
"What kept you occupied anyway? It's not like you like letting people wait, even if those people are only your grandchildren?" Anne asked curiously.
"They are not only my grandchildren, Anne! They are my grandchildren, and I love spending time with them, and that makes it even more important for me to be on time." knowing she had hit a nerve there and that she hadn't meant to imply in a way that her mother didn't value time with her family, especially with her grandchildren, Anne apologised.
"I'm sorry. I know you do, and they do too. I worded that wrong." The Queen nodded in acceptance before answering the question.
"The new junior equerry arrived a week ago, and we were still going through the plan for the next engagement, on which he will accompany me. Those things tend to take a bit more time until they get the hang of it, but I'm sure he will learn fast." While the general animosity between her and her mother's staff during her teenage years had disappeared, Anne still wasn't very keen on being on more than polite terms with them.
"Mhm, I'm sure he will."
"And how are…the proceedings with Mark going?" Anne sighed; it was like the word divorce did not exist in her mother's vocabulary.
"Our court appointment is on Thursday. So, by this time next week, we will be divorced, and I will be Anne Mountbatten-Windsor again."
"Don't you want to wait with that until after Christmas?" the Queen asked.
"No. I won't wait longer than necessary, and it's not like we would've spent Christmas together if we were to push the divorce into next year. I won't play pretend; I have done enough of that for a lifetime. We already talked about it. I'll take Peter and Zara to his parents' house on the 28th, and they will spend the rest of the holidays with him," Anne told her mother, who let out a small sigh of her own.
"I know that is not what you want to hear, and I'm sorry. I know you're ashamed of me, but I want to be free of him before he can take everything that's left of me."
"Why would you think I'm ashamed of you, Anne? There's still a lot left you would have to do before I am ashamed of my daughter."
"Because I'm ashamed of me," Anne confessed, refusing to look at her mother. She felt her mother wanted to say something, but they were interrupted by a member of staff.
"Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness. Lunch is ready to be served." The man said with a bow from the head.
"Thank you. We'll head inside in a moment," the Queen answered him, and with another bow, he retreated. Before she could attempt to continue their conversation, Anne called her children.
"Peter! Zara! Lunch is ready; let's go inside!" as it had been a while since they last ate, there came no resistance or complaints from the two, and they came running back instantly. Though it was a bit unfair, Anne lifted Zara into her arms as she tried to run past them and after her brother, but Anne knew her own mother wouldn't resume their conversation when Zara was in her arms.
"Got you! Hmm, if they serve nothing good for lunch, I could eat you!"
"No! Mama, you can't eat me!" Zara giggled and laughed as Anne pretended to bite her before blowing a raspberry against Zara's neck, causing her to squeal and giggle even more.
"Oh, I can, and I will have your big brother for dessert!"
"No, Granny, help!" Zara laughed and reached out with one hand towards her grandmother, who had to smile and play along despite the seriousness of the previous conversation.
"But Granny would like a bite of the Zara roast too!"
Just as they walked through the door, Peter came running back to her with a big, beaming smile on his face, pointing behind him as he came to a stop in front of his mother and grandmother.
"Mama, it's Tim! Tim's here!" Peter told her excitedly, and for a moment, Anne didn't understand what he meant until she looked up and down the hall and froze.
There he was, in uniform, tall and handsome as ever. A twinkle in the beautiful green eyes that had hunted her thoughts and dreams for over a year and a small smile on his lips. The man she was secretly in love with, no matter how hard she tried to banish him from her thoughts and close off her heart. He was indeed here, her Naval Officer, her Tim.
Thank you very much for reading! I'd love to read your thoughts on this in the comments; it's much appreciated! And a happy birthday to King Charles!