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Royal fiance doesn't want a title after she weds Prince Edward Royal fiance doesn't want a title after she weds Prince Edward
By John Minden LONDON - How was it for you? Did your panting heart miss a beat, did a silly smile flicker on your lips, was there a barely concealed squeal of joy at the news that Sophie Rhys-Jones is to be a princess? If not, you must be as matter-of-factly modern as Mr. and Mrs. Edward Windsor - as Prince Edward and his bride-to-be would apparently prefer to be styled. Rhys-Jones does not want to be called princess because of unwelcome comparisons with the late Diana, Princess of Wales, the title will encourage, a newspaper reports today. ``Sophie feels the continued references and pictures comparing her to Diana do nothing at all to further her cause or to help the royal family,'' the Sunday Telegraph quotes an unnamed friend of Rhys-Jones as saying. Rhys-Jones and Prince Edward, who will be married in the relative privacy of St. George's Chapel, Windsor, may not have a grand state wedding of the old sort, but Mr. and Mrs. W. seem destined to end up as the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge; the Queen has already provided Bagshot Park in Surrey, a vast Victorian pile set in 35 hectares of trees, as a home for the upwardly mobile couple. After more than five years of courtship, some might say about time, too. Compared with the five months it took Prince Charles to get engaged to Lady Diana Spencer or the seven months that elapsed before Prince Andrew proposed to Sarah Ferguson, it has been a marathon affair.
Fame means intrusion, however, and Rhys-Jones had a taste of what is in store from the tabloids when they helpfully produced an impressive list of her former boyfriends, including one who claimed the couple had a one-night stand in a potting shed. Maybe her profession will equip her with the skills to take the knocks. As a posh public relations person, she is in one of the most fashionable rackets in this country. And like Edward, with his Ardent TV production company, she will not object if clients bask in the royal connection. Another reason for optimism about the marriage is Rhys-Jones' family background. Unlike the Spencers and the Fergusons (the families from which daughters-in-law Diana and Sarah respectively sprang), we are dealing not with a world of upper-class divorces, traumas and tantrums, but with a secure middle-class home in the Kent commuter village of Brenchley. Rhys-Jones' father, Christopher, sells tires, and her mother, Mary, used to take in typing at about $11 per hour to help pay the school fees they thought would give her a good start in life. After Dulwich College Prep School, Rhys-Jones attended Kent College for Girls, where she is remembered as a cheery, boisterous sort who became ``a total animal'' anywhere near a field hockey pitch. Later she attended West Kent College where she was a well-known party girl in most of the village pubs. As a friend of the time said: ``She wasn't permissive, but she was fun-loving. She was a bit pear-shaped and therefore very good at drinking.'' In London she shared a flat with a girlfriend, got a job as a secretary, and then joined the public relations department of Capital Radio. She even met Prince Edward, who was then dating a friend of hers. In her early twenties, Rhys-Jones left for Switzerland where she helped organize après ski events. She later moved to Australia with a ski instructor from Down Under. Returning to London, she began to rebuild her career in PR. She met her prince (again) at a fundraising publicity stunt when she was roped into having her picture taken with Edward. He took her phone number and managed to keep their dates secret for three months before he was rumbled. Newspaper reports then appeared claiming that they were about to marry and that - shock! horror! - Rhys-Jones had spent the night at Buckingham Palace. The paparazzi descended in force and Edward issued a public plea: ``I am very conscious that other members of my family have been subjected to similar attention and it has not been at all beneficial to their relationships.'' But when they went for their first holiday together at Balmoral - to ``secluded Craigowan Lodge'' - the sound of tabloid slavering rose like a Highland stream in flood. Apparently ``the bitter wind bent the pines outside their windows,'' but the lodge was equipped with satellite TV and a sauna, and they sometimes stayed in. Eventually a picture was snatched of them kissing, and Edward appealed successfully to the Press Complaints Commission. The Queen evidently accepted her youngest son's new girlfriend as soon as he introduced her at Sandringham (her parents visited within months). ``You wouldn't notice her in a crowd,'' she was heard telling the Queen Mother and Princess Margaret soon after - meaning that after a couple of exhibitionist daughters-in-law, this one might not seek to up-stage the monarchy. She also noticed that her son had become less brittle and arrogant, and reportedly remarked that Rhys-Jones ``makes Ed happy.'' Although Rhys-Jones kept her west London flat, within weeks of the relationship beginning she was spending as much time at Edward's apartment in Buckingham Palace. Her car was a regular sight leaving the palace in the morning. According to one omniscient royal-watcher, Rhys-Jones did not actually sleep with Edward out of deference to the Queen, and Edward once put his foot in it by tripping over his mother's corgis on a clandestine night-time mission to his lover's room. The question remains whether the public expects Rhys-Jones to be a sort of Diana Mark II. She certainly has a look of the late Princess of Wales, but her different figure means she has to take greater care with the designer dresses she borrows from willing fashion houses. Like many another strawberry blonde she is in fact a strawberry brunette, but she seems not to have intended to imitate Diana, who apparently disliked her. Diana reportedly once called her ``little Miss Goody Two Shoes'' and asked Fergie: ``Why is she getting such an easy ride? We were thrown to the wolves.'' A rare, unflattering article once quoted an acquaintance as saying that Rhys-Jones ``considers she is the one person who can save the monarchy'' but she was quick to describe the report as ``too preposterous for words.'' LONDON SUNDAY TIMES
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