Just read a new book by Robert Harris called "Precpice", an historic fiction revolving around a real life affair (of sorts) between 60-ish British Prime Minister H.H. Asquith, a married father of 7, and 26 yr. old Venetia Stanley, a debutante from a wealthy landed family, during the run-up to WWI.
Seems Asquith's long suffering wife had been told by her MD that sex was out-of-bounds for her after child birth complications. That left the PM, who had an eye for younger ladies, on the lookout for someone to provide some much needed comfort and companionship as he juggled the demands of mobilizing his country for war. I mean, if you're sending a few hundred thousand young men off to the trenches, shouldn't you be entitled to a little nookie on the side?
He and his much young crush would get together for long Friday afternoon drives in his Limo, apparently with a privacy window shades that would protect them from the eyes of his devoted driver and curious pedestrians. There were also weekends at her family's lavish country homes, often with his jealous "Cuckqueen" wife in tow, where they might escape for a rendezvous in the gardens. The author speculates that their sexual interactions were limited to "frottage" (i.e. non-penetrative sex) in an age when "unprotected sex" came with far greater risks to a woman of the aristocracy. One can imagine lots of blow jobs and finger fucking in the back of that spacious limo as it meandered through Covent Gardens.
The aging PM was obsessed with Venetia, to the point of crazy. Over the approximately 24 months of their affair he sent her
560 letters, all of which have survived and which the author quotes in his novel. Apparently there were multiple mail deliveries / day in those days, so 2-3 letters might arrive from him each day. Still living at home, Venitia had to stealthily intercept the post man throughout the day to avoid raised eyebrows from Mom, Dad and her siblings. The PM, between odes of his lust for her, also shared classified war plans and intelligence, seeking her advice on how to handle the likes of war hawks like the young Winston Churchill, then in charge of the Admiralty. The "Official Secrets Act" was breached on a daily basis.
Sadly, Venetia's letters were lost to history. Apparently Asquith or his family disposed of them, something Venetia did not do.
The affair petered out as Venetia trained to nurse war wounded "Tommies". She went to France to work at a field hospital. Ultimately, Venetia grew impatient with all those cloyingly pathetic letters from her "Prime" and the pressure to keep up the correspondence. To pull the plug, she finally accepted the multiple proposals of marriage from a less than macho suitor, Edwin Montagu, one of her contemporaries. He was a Junior member of Asquith's cabinet.
Mantagu was also fabulously wealthy, which probably helped the PM's young mistress turn the page. Though she had to convert to Judaism in order to assure that her new husband inherited his Jewish father's wealth. Whatever.
Sadly, Asquith did not take the news of this betrothal well. He had been hopelessly distracted from his governmental duties as Venetia slipped away from his grasp. His government lasted only a few more months after she dumped him, replaced by the uber ambitious Lloyd George. Asquith was the last Liberal PM, as the Tories rose to power.
Venetia was married to Montagu, but apparently her terms in accepting the proposal included an ongoing hall pass", which gives her something in common with today's "Hot Wives". History says that Venetia made her new husband a cuck with multiple lovers. DNA evidence later revealed that their daughter was actually fathered by some other upper-crust dude titled the "Earle of Dudley". No Do-Right he!
