The Viceroy's Daughters Read Free

woman’s place and does not yearn for trousers. Give me, in fact, Mary.” That she was also immensely rich was an understood part of the bargain: the tide of American heiresses marrying British titles was then in full flood. Ironically, it was this very wealth that would later drive a wedge between those whom its owner loved most—her husband and children.
    The question of the Leiter fortune arose well before the official announcement of their engagement on March 4, 1895. (Describing the engagement, the St. James’s Gazette wrote of the bridegroom: “He is superbly clever and not unconscious of the fact.”) Lord Scarsdale gave his son an allowance of one thousand pounds a year and promised to settle on him land worth seven thousand pounds a year in income. After much discussion, Levi Leiter made a marriage settlement on his daughter of seven hundred thousand dollars, invested in fixed-interest railroad stock, to give her an annual income of thirty-three thousand dollars. Should she predecease Curzon, he was entitled to one-third of this income, with another third to go to any children they might have. The remaining third was to be left as appointed by Mary or, in default of that, by Curzon. Levi Leiter also promised Mary a further one million pounds either during his lifetime or in his will.
    They were married on the morning of April 22, 1895, at St. John’s Church, opposite the White House, in Washington, D.C., Mary in a white dress from Worth and the Scarsdale diamonds. A few days later they sailed for England from New York. Mary never saw America again. Their first house in London was No. 5 Carlton House Terrace off Pall Mall. Curzon, setting a precedent that was to endure through both his marriages, was more familiar with its domestic minutiae than Mary.
    In June 1895 he was appointed undersecretary of state at the Foreign Office. The following month there was a general election; Curzon, his campaign for reelection funded by his father-in-law and aided by the charm and beauty of his young wife, increased his majority.
    Within a few months the young couple had decided they could not afford Carlton House Terrace and instead leased No. 4 Carlton Gardens from a fellow Soul, Arthur Balfour, renting a Georgian house in Reigate, the Priory, while Balfour’s house was being made ready for them. Mary was not allowed to choose so much as a single curtain; Curzon, although working sixteen-hour days, took the entire decoration out of her hands, despite the fact that she would have enjoyed it—and that her father was paying. In many ways, it was the template for their marriage.
    For the next few years Mary was miserable, alone in a foreign country, with little to do and a husband hardly ever there. Because his work prevented him from escorting her, the ordinary social round passed her by. During the London season of 1896 they went out to dinner only twice, and it was the same during the Jubilee year that followed. Only Mary’s baby, Mary Irene, born on January 20, 1896, lightened her wretchedness. She pronounced the child’s name Ireen, in the American fashion; Curzon, a classicist, gritted his teeth every time he heard this but loyally said nothing.
    A fortnight before her second child, Cynthia Blanche (always known as Cimmie), was born on August 28, 1898, it was announced that Curzon was to succeed Lord Elgin as viceroy of India. For a man as young as thirty-eight, who had held no senior government position before, it was an extraordinary post to be offered. It was given to him in part because he had asked for it—Curzon believed, with reason, that he could fill it better than anyone else—but chiefly because he was quite clearly the best available candidate. He had visited India four times, his knowledge of its culture, problems and history was immense, he had written about it at length, and he was on terms of friendship with many of its potentates, as well as the emir who ruled