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He marked Nicholas in blue, for Greece, and pointed back to the Danes at the top.
“The old king also had daughters, and two did pretty well for themselves. Dagmar went off to Moscow to become Empress of Russia, changed her name to Maria, converted to the Orthodox Church, and gave birth to Nicholas the Second of All the Russias.”
“Murdered with his entire family at Yekaterinburg.”
“Precisely. But look at the other one. Alexandra of Denmark came over here and married our prince, who became Edward the Seventh. They produced the eventual George the Fifth. See?”
“So Czar Nicholas and King George were cousins.”
“Exactly. Their mothers were sisters. So in the First World War the Czar of Russia and the King of England were cousins. When King George referred to the Czar as ‘cousin Nicky’ he was being completely accurate.”
“Except that ended in 1917.”
“It did indeed. But now look at the British line.”
Dr. Probyn reached up and circled in red both King Edward and Queen Alexandra. His red pen ran down a generation to circle King George V.
“Now, he had five sons. John died as a boy, the others grew up. Here they are: David, Albert, Henry, and George. It’s the last we’re interested in, Prince George.”
The red pen ran down from George V to envelop his fourth son, Prince George of Windsor.
“Now, he died in a plane crash in the Second World War, but he had two sons, both alive today. Here they are, but it’s the younger one we must concentrate on.”
The red pen ran down to the bottom line to circle the second English prince.
“Now follow the line back,” said Dr. Probyn. “His father was Prince George, his grandfather King George, but his great-grandma was the sister of the czar’s mum. Two Danish princesses, Dagmar and Alexandra. This man is linked to the House of Romanov by marriage.”
“Mmmm. A long time back,” said Sir Nigel.
“Ah, there’s more. Look at these.”
He tossed on the desk two photographs. Two bearded, somber faces staring directly at the camera.
“What do you think?”
“They could be brothers.”
“Well, they’re not. There’s eighty years between them. This one is the dead Czar Nicholas the Second; the other is the living English prince. Look at the faces, Sir Nigel. They’re not typically British faces—anyway the czar was half-Russian, half-Danish. They’re not typical Russian faces. They’re Danish faces; it’s the Danish blood coming through, from those two Danish sisters.”
“That it? Linkage by marriage?”
“Far from it. The best is yet to come. Remember Prince Nicholas?”
“The one on the back burner? Prince of Greece, but actually half-Danish, half-Russian?”
“That’s the one. Now, the Czar Nicholas had a cousin, Grand Duchess Elena. What did she do? Shot off to Athens and married Nicholas. So he’s half Romanov and she’s a hundred percent. Their offspring therefore is three-quarters Russian and Romanov. And she was Princess Marina.”
“Who came over here …”
“And married Prince George of Windsor. So these two living men, his sons, are three-eighths Romanov, and nowadays that’s about as near as you’ll get. That doesn’t mean there’s a linear claim—too many women in the way, which is banned by the Pauline Law. But the linkage by marriage is through the father line and by blood through the mother line.”
“That applies to both brothers?”
“Yes, and something else. Their mother, Marina, was a member of the Orthodox Church at the time of both births. That’s a crucial condition for acceptance by the Orthodox hierarchy, and there aren’t many others like that.”
“That applies to both brothers?”
“Yes, of course. And both served in the British Army, rising to the rank of major.”