In the The Romanovs: One Last Dance Novel:

Hello, everyone. I see you've found my home. I am Her Majesty Queen Mary of the United Kingdom, Empress of India, wife and queen consort of King George V. I was born on the 26 May 1867 at Kensington Palace, (not unlike my cousin the Queen) to HSH Prince Francis, Duke of Teck and his wife, the Princess Mary Adelaide of Cambridge. Baptized on 27 July, I was christened Victoria Mary Augusta Louise Olga Pauline Claudine Agnes in the Chapel Royal at Kensington. Serving as my godparents were HRH the Prince of Wales, the Duchess of Cambridge and Queen Victoria herself. I was nicknamed "May" for the month in which I had been born.

ENGAGED!

At age twenty-four, I became engaged to HRH Prince Albert Victor "Eddy" of Wales. His grandmother, HM Queen Victoria, thought I would be a good influence on Eddy's seemingly slow mind...especially after he was rejected by his Hessian cousin, Alix. Not surprisingly, Prince Eddy and I were first cousins, once removed through my mother. He wasn't the brightest of King Edward's brood, but he was heir, none the less. Just after our engagement was announced in December 1891, Eddy came down with pneumonia, and died in April 1892; his younger brother George, was now heir to the throne.

Not too long after this tragedy, the Queen made arrangements for me to marry the brother of the Prince of Wales. George and I had only met briefly a few times prior to his proposal, but we quickly became very fond of each other. Of course I dutifully accepted his proposal, hoping that we would please the Queen...and everyone else. Obviously, this was an arranged marriage, but George and I had always shared a bond of some kind. Our relationship soon developed into a romantic and caring one that never faltered; in fact, George was one of very few British kings that had not a single mistress. However in love we were, neither of us were quite capable of sharing our feelings with spoken words, and so George and I would write letters to each other, expressing our devotion.

We were married on 6 July 1893 at the Chapel Royal, St. James’ Palace in England’s grand capital. As the wife of the future King's second son, I received the title Duchess of York on our wedding day. George and I made our first home together at York Cottage on the Sandringham Estate in Norfolk. We also had apartments at the St. James Palace, but George preferred the cottage, so we stayed there for most of the time. When Queen Victoria died on 22 January 1901, George’s father, Prince Edward, took to the throne. George and I received titles appropriate to the duchy of Cornwall, as the future King and Queen of Great Britain.

In November 1901, George was created Prince of Wales; now we were truly next in line to rule. When King Edward VII died in May of 1910, we prepared to take the throne. The coronation took place in 1911. I was from then on known as HM Queen Mary of England, Empress of India. The new dowager empress Alexandra and myself chatted together often, but she was a rather stubborn lady and demanded that she keep some of the crown jewels that I should have received upon my coronation as queen.

MOTHERHOOD

When I first learned that I was with child in late 1893, I was in shock. Of course as future King and Queen of England, George and I were expected to produce an heir. Thank heaven our first was a boy! The baby arrived in on 23 June 1894. Of course, George was keen on calling him 'Edward' after his late brother. The queen, however, extended a reminder in the form of a very stern letter that Eddy's first name had in fact been Albert. But my husband had made up his mind, and I couldn't disagree. But we were forced to find a suitable nickname or some such thing to call him en famille, as to not confuse him with the other Edwards of the family. Given eight names total, our new baby boy would be known to us simply as David. He was followed on 14 December 1895 by a second son, not coincidentally named Albert; like his grandfather, he would be called Bertie. A daughter arrived in April 1897, whom we naturally christened Victoria, but would agree to call her Mary, after myself. Harry arrived in late March of 1900, followed in quick succession by two more sons: Georgie in December 1902 and Johnnie in July 1905.

Busy with the business tour duties and such, our children were entrusted to the care of nannies and governesses, the first two of whom were dismissed, the second in particular for abusing David and Bertie. But only five of our children would remain together during their younger years; poor Johnnie was born with the disease epilepsy, and because of this, my husband and I thought it best if John was sent away. He had his first epileptic fit at age four. Of course, George and I wished our youngest to not attend our coronation in 1911 and sent him to live with a nanny and several male attendants in 1917. Just before departing for one of my visits with Johnnie in January of 1919, I received a phone call from his nanny. I was told that my son had had yet another one of his fits. I did not arrive in time to say goodbye to my youngest son; he had gone into a fit-induced coma, from which he would never awaken. He was buried on the Sandringham Estate. Many of the villagers from nearby came to bid farewell to our Johnnie during his funeral.

While we all missed dear Johnnie terribly, George and I had to carry on with our royal duties. While David became a well-known 'ladies man' as they're called in America, our second son, Bertie, was determined to marry the lady of his dreams. On April 23, 1923 Bertie married the young and pretty Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon; a younger daughter of the Earl of Strathmore. In fact, Elizabeth was his ninth child! As a member of the British aristocracy, George and I thought Lady Elizabeth a suitable match for our son, whom George made Duke of York shortly before the wedding. Bertie and Elizabeth had two children, daughters: Elizabeth Alexandra Mary, named for her mother, myself and Motherdear, who came on 21 April 1926, followed by little Margaret Rose on 21 August 1930.

Our only daughter, Mary, wed the Viscount Lascelles in February 1922. She gave birth to two healthy sons, George in 1923 and Gerald in 1924. David, Georgie and Henry chose to wait a while before marrying; something of which my husband seemed to disapprove.

My children were always very reluctant in speaking with me, but when Hitler's ghastly planes bombed London in the autumn of 1940, my son George wished for me to leave the city. Of course, I did not oblige to this, until after deciding to reside with my niece, also called Mary, at Badminton House. I did my part to help the war effort by visiting our troops at scrap factories and such. In November 1934, my son, George, the Duke of Kent, married his cousin (also my goddaughter), HRH Princess Marina of Greece and Denmark. It was to be the last marriage between a member of our royal family and that of another reigning royal house. Her elder sister, Elizabeth, was present as well as the Princess Paul of Yugoslavia. George and Marina had three children in the following years: Edward came in 1935; Alexandra on Christmas Day of 1936 and of course, Michael in 1942. His final given name, Franklin, was given in honor of his godfather, Franklin D. Roosevelt, the then president of the United States. In August of that year, Georgie's plane was shot down over Scotland; he was killed in the crash, leaving poor Marina a widow with three young children; little Michael was a mere six weeks old!

Harry was married to Lady Alice Montague-Douglas-Scott in early 1934, just months before Georgie and Marina's wedding. They had two boys: William and Richard.

SCANDAL

Meanwhile, my eldest son David was off on his own disastrous adventures in America. When he returned, David seemed to be in a different state of mind that when had left a few months earlier. I knew of his current mistress, a married American woman his age named Thelma Morgan, the Countess of Furness. David was faithful to her, but only for a mere two years. When Thelma brought her friend over from America, my son was in for it. When the countess returned to the States, she asked her lady friend, Mrs. Wallis Simpson to "look after" David. Look after him, indeed! She did more than that. George and I questioned David about this seemingly budding romance with Mrs. Simpson, but what our son told us could not have been further from the truth. He not only began living with her against our wishes, but she began appearing at David's side during public royal functions!

Although still wed to the devoted Ernest Simpson, Wallis continued to pursue her forbidden romance with my son. On the 20th of January 1936, my husband, King George V died, leaving David his crown and duties as King. He desperately wished to find a way to marry Mrs. Simpson and still retain his title as the sovereign. But this, we could not allow. So, after a mere eleven months on the throne, just short of his coronation, my son chose his married American lover over the Crown of England! He abdicated on 10 December 1936, leaving my next son, Bertie to take his place as King.

Bertie was furious with his brother for being so selfish and putting him in such a state. I was furious with him as well...not only for leaving his brother hanging by a thread and unsure of what to do, but for leaving his people for such a horrible woman! Even so, Bertie and his wife, Elizabeth became King and Queen of Great Britain in 1936 and my granddaughter, Lilibet, heiress to the British crown; their younger daughter, Margaret was second in line. David and Mrs. Simpson were exiled to France and wed in a chateau there. Afterward, Bertie allowed David the title HRH the Duke of Windsor. Of course, Bertie, myself and Elizabeth refused to attend the "wedding", and instead sent a letter stating that David's new "wife" would not be granted the style "HRH", although Bertie graciously allowed David to keep his royal status, he simply would address Mrs. Simpson as the Duchess of Windsor; to us, she would never be worthy of a royal title.

In 1952, my son, then King George VI, died of lung cancer, leaving his eldest daughter, my granddaughter Elizabeth to take the crown. I was in bad health then and never saw my 25 year old granddaughter made Queen. The only thing I asked was that her coronation not be postponed in I were to pass on before then.

Queen Mary died on the 24th of March 1953 in England. She was buried at St. George’s Chapel in Windsor, England.

In the 'What If?' Storyline:

On 15 April 1921, David wed the Grand Duchess Olga Nicholaevna of Russia; she is the eldest child of George's cousin, Czar Nicholas II and his German wife, Alexandra. Neither of the children seemed keen on marrying, but they agreed to the match eventually. Olga, whom we call Alexandra since she has converted to our Anglican faith, is quite a pretty girl; she has her father's blue eyes and fair hair, like David.

Alexandra is a very intelligent young woman. She is quite a natural at motherhood---a gift I've never possessed. She and David welcomed little Catherine in January 1922. I've never seen my son so delighted over another person! George and I were beginning to wonder if our son had the makings of a good parent, but now I see David is learning. Catherine is quite the little darling! She looks so much like David it is frightening, but with Alexandra's pretty blue eyes and dark blonde curls. Nicky should be happy---she somewhat takes after his side of the family as well. Our second grandchild, Mary's son, George takes after his father. Although he is quite handsome, I think my husband would have been more pleased had Mary wed a man of higher status.

Background and Border From The Inspiration Gallery