KING George VI, my grandfather, died in 1952, at the tragically early age of 57. He had reigned through one of the most turbulent periods of the 20th century and, by all accounts, proved himself to be one of Britain's most able monarchs. He had never been a strong man in terms of health and undoubtedly the strains of kingship had taken their toll. Yet by right he should never have been King and, indeed, throughout his 16 years on the throne, there had been a dark shadow in his private life. That shadow was his eldest brother, the Duke of Windsor, formerly King Edward VIII. 

In that same year, 1952, Edward bought his first house, La Moulin de la Tuilerie, an old mill on the outskirts of Paris. It may seem of no consequence, but in the following year, when his niece was crowned Queen Elizabeth II, he acquired a villa in the Bois de Boulogne which was destined to be his and Wallis's final home. 

These two acts were significant: they reveal that the Duke had finally come to terms with the fact that he was never going to be allowed to return to Britain to live, that he was never going to be given any form of job and that he had grudgingly accepted the inevitable - he was, and would remain, an exile. 

To get even remotely close to my subject I would need to go back to original source material 

For more than a year now, I have been piecing together the true story of what happened to my great-uncle after that momentous time when he abdicated the throne 60 years ago. The initial research through books and papers revealed that much of the story is surrounded by myth, gossip and rumour repeated sufficiently to count as fact, and I realised that if I was to get even remotely close to my subject I would need to go back to original source material - letters and people. 

There are few people left who were personally close to the Duke of Windsor in the days of the abdication crisis and, more importantly, in the days and months immediately afterwards. So for that period I relied heavily on letters, which revealed something wholly unexpected. I had always understood that the abdication was regarded as a great tragedy but it seems the real tragedy was to happen behind the scenes and was to cause the brothers George and Edward to become embroiled in a lengthy and bitter feud. 

The sense of shock and sadness among his family at the news of his abdication was mixed with genuine sympathy. "This is the saddest letter I have ever written." (Princess Helena Victoria) "It is impossible to express what I feel for you in this hour of such momentous decision." (Princess Marie Louise) "I have now been supremely happily married for over 20 years, so perhaps . . . I am in a better position to appreciate most deeply and to sympathise with your desire for happiness." (Marquess of Milford Haven) "We are all overcome with misery and can only pray that you will find happiness in your new life." (The Duchess of York) 

The feud became more bitter as the years progressed 

Yet no one, least of all Edward, now titled the Duke of Windsor, had any idea just how drastically different this "new life" was going to be. In the immediate aftermath of the abdication crisis, Edward went to Austria. Everyone had agreed that he should spend time out of the country, lie low for a while and let the worst of the storm blow over. In any case, time had to be allowed for his brother, George, to become established as the new king. 

Posterity dealt my grandfather a pretty lousy hand in some respects. For it was his task, time and time again, to give my great-uncle bad news and shatter his hopes. 

First, it was the decision that no member of Edward's family could attend his wedding, then it was the refusal to allow Wallis to be entitled Her Royal Highness, then the long-running saga of whether or not they could return to Britain. There was the wrangle over a financial settlement and a major fall-out over the lack of an invitation to the unveiling of their father's tomb in St George's Chapel, Windsor. Each time, it was either the King who had to pass on the bad news or he who was to blame, in Edward's eyes, for failing to support him. 

The feud became more bitter as the years progressed and any semblance of trust disappeared. When Edward was posted to the British Military Mission in Paris, just after the outbreak of war in 1939, he blamed the King for a "network of intrigue" against him and for his "efforts to humiliate me". 

Ours is an era in which duty is almost regarded as a dirty word 

Later, while escaping from the invading German and Italian armies in 1940, he took temporary refuge in fascist Spain and began setting conditions for his possible return to Britain. He wanted a job, a house, and for his wife to be recognised formally. It was a desperate and openly antagonistic move which totally backfired. He and the Duchess were dispatched to the Bahamas, where he served as Governor for the rest of the war. 

Reading many of the letters throughout this period was, for me, desperately sad. The hurt and frustration is all too plain and, as with so many familial tragedies, a fundamental lack of understanding is at its root. It is relatively easy to recognise it in hindsight but in order to understand it we must return to the abdication and cause of it. 

IT IS a story that we all seem to know so well, indelibly printed in our minds when we first come to learn the names and dates of England's Kings and Queens. There it is: "Edward VIII 1936- . . . abdicated." He wasn't even crowned. He gave it all up for love . . . or at least that is how we view the episode now through rather romantically tinted spectacles. But ours is an era in which duty is almost regarded as a dirty word, and the notion that love is greater than duty is seen as being wholly acceptable, even laudable. 

He played hard, socially as well as sportingly 

At the time, however, it was anything but: duty counted. This was the mid-1930s, fewer than 20 years after the conclusion of the First World War and not that long after the Great Depression. Almost an entire generation had been lost in the war, fighting to secure freedom and peace in Europe. There had been little opportunity to enjoy the respite from that suffering before the economy of the western world went into a tailspin. Yet adversity seems to bring out the best in some people, and, yes, people were used to both. Life meant hard work, and old-fashioned attitudes to loyalty and duty were the hallmarks of society. 

Edward, Prince of Wales, knew that better than most. Born in June 1894, the eldest son of George V and Queen Mary, he had been brought up in very strict and, by all accounts, austere circumstances. The four surviving children grew very close and supportive; they looked out for each other and sympathised with Edward, upon whom so much rested and from whom so much was expected by their parents. 

He served during the First World War, causing much concern to his superiors as he was always trying to get to the front line. He travelled extensively throughout the Empire and beyond on epic voyages. He also played hard, socially as well as sportingly, often putting himself recklessly at risk. 

He became better known and loved than any previous royal figure. When he acceded to the throne at the age of 42, he bore with him the hopes and aspirations of nearly one-third of the world's population. A new era was about to be born. 

Wallis was forced to flee the country 

It is almost impossible to describe the sense of shock, disbelief and betrayal that swept not just Britain but the rest of the Empire over a matter of weeks when news leaked out of his affair with Wallis Simpson. Before this, there was nothing in the public domain, except in her native America, about her liaison with the Prince. 

The public's shock was then compounded by disbelief when they discovered that not only was she a divorcŽe but she was still married to her second husband. As if that wasn't enough, Wallis was not exactly blessed with stunning good looks, which made it even more difficult for the nation to come to terms with their Prince's choice. It then became apparent that he intended to marry her and make her his wife and their Queen. Emotions soon began to run even higher; reviled and rejected, Wallis was forced to flee the country. 

Undaunted, Edward proceeded with his plan. Why? We'll never know for sure whether it was supreme arrogance, utter disillusionment or blind passion. On the one hand we can admire him for his strength of mind, but on the other we must recognise that when he opted out he was seen to fail in his duty. All that remained was the most powerful and overriding sense of loss and of betrayal felt by a nation and an Empire which saw their own hopes and aspirations disappearing along with their King. 

Only when we understand the depth of this public feeling can we begin to comprehend the private tragedy that was to unfold behind the scenes. 

The King was advised not to bestow the title HRH on the Duchess 

The King and all his family were caught in a dreadful dilemma. Privately, they wanted to see Edward, be there at his wedding and do all those sorts of things a close family would want to do to support one of their own - yet, publicly, they couldn't be seen to endorse his choice of a divorcŽe, nor to condone his decision to abdicate: the country simply would not accept it. 

The officials and advisers within the Royal Household were particularly sensitive to the way the public thought: they wanted to distance the old king as far as possible, both physically and mentally. 

FOR a family which had been so close, I cannot imagine a more desperate situation. The question that I kept on asking myself was, why? Why couldn't Edward realise the impossible situation his brother George was in? 

The clues were all contained in the King's fateful letter to Edward concerning his wedding and the fact that none of his family would be there. It begins: "I can't treat this as just a private family matter," and continues: "It would be regarded by everybody as condoning all that has happened . . . I can't act like a private person and I have had to get advice from Ministers." 

It was the same logic which dictated that the King was advised not to bestow the title HRH on the Duchess. Some had considered such a move vindictive and it had taken a considerable amount of time for the King's Acting Private Secretary to drum up enough support to achieve it. 

The family tried to heal the rift created by the wedding snub 

The effect on Edward was devastating, as his equerry at the time, Dudley Forwood, told me, and reduced him to tears. He could neither believe nor understand it. He had no idea of the depth of public feeling, not so much against him but against his wife. 

One sentence towards the end of his abdication speech makes itainfully clear that he never expected that his cataclysmic announcement would cut him off from England. "It may be some time before I return to my native land but I shall always follow the fortunes of the British race and Empire with profound interest." 

I am quite sure that Edward had every intention of returning to England at some point in the future with his new wife, to his beloved home - Fort Belvedere near Ascot. I believe that he thought he could pick up the threads of his life and attempt to adopt a role of "younger" brother to the new King. Such high expectations were to be repeatedly shattered because of public opinion. 

On at least two occasions, the family tried to heal the rift created by the wedding snub. The Duke of Kent attempted to see the newlyweds on their honeymoon at Wasserleonburg, in Austria. "I told him Marina [Duchess of Kent] couldn't [come] as she wanted to see her family and so could I come alone," wrote the Duke of Kent. "He said no, they wanted us both to come . . . He was very upset but said he couldn't have his wife insulted and therefore that he couldn't see me alone." The truth was that the Duchess of Kent "didn't much want to meet Wallis", no doubt aware of the likely reaction back in Britain. 

Edward was not to set foot on British soil until after George VI died 

When that attempt failed in 1937 an alternative arrangement was made for 1938. The plan was for the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester to stop over in Paris on their way back from Kenya. 

The King hoped very much that the visit would be kept private. Edward replied: "I am surprised that you should express anxiety lest I should inform the press of their visit beforehand." Yet the very next day he sent a friend a "copy of a draft statement regarding the Gloucesters' visit to us here", adding: "There is a good chance of this 'breaking the ice', as my brother so naively calls it, being reported with some dignity." The visit did occur: but the publicity surrounding it prompted intense speculation about the Windsors' imminent return to Britain, and a hostile response from the public. 

The archives still contain letters from ordinary people expressing outrage and disgust at such a notion. The King wrote to Queen Mary: "I have also received letters abusing her and not him. I wish he would come over alone for the first visit. It would simplify things so much." Such advice was unheeded, as was that of the Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, who opined "that such a visit as we were discussing . . . would evoke strong protest and controversy". 

In fact, apart from a fleeting visit at the outbreak of the Second World War, Edward was not to set foot on British soil until after George VI died; nor would he be given a job, nor would his wife be accepted. 

Both the Duke and the Duchess became famous for their leadership in fashion and dress sense 

THE KING's death effectively killed off this bitter and consuming feud. The Duke had no argument with his niece, Elizabeth; in fact, he had always adored her as a child. He did not push his luck by trying to instigate an invitation to the Coronation and instead he turned his energies into creating a new life, and the chic lifestyle that was to make the Windsors so famous. 

The public image created through the Fifties and Sixties was one of consummate style. Both the Duke and the Duchess became famous for their leadership in fashion and dress sense. The style permeated everything, from their houses to their staff to their hospitality, even to their exquisitely monogrammed luggage. Their parties were the most exclusive, and their names on a guest list were essential if any high-society party was to be truly successful. 

The socialising and partying extended well beyond Paris and Europe, to New York and Palm Beach. But, although I found that even I was amazed at just how much they did, it wasn't really telling me anything about who they really were. The social glitter was, in a sense, blinding. The more I studied the known, the more I wanted to know the unknown - the private person behind the public face. 

A few of the Windsors' close friends and aquaintances are still alive 

For this part of the research, personal recollections became the most important. A few of the Windsors' close friends and aquaintances are still alive. From Britain to France to America I travelled to talk to them and to visit many of the places at which Edward and Wallis stayed and were entertained. The exercise was fascinating; many of their friends had never before spoken publicly about their association with the Windsors and they were able to give me a detailed insight into the man my great-uncle really was. 

The Duke seems to have had a number of personal passions, two of which were money and golf, although they were not actually linked. 

Although always a generous man, he had an innate conservatism about money, and was shrewd and cautious. By the Sixties, he had a considerable portfolio on the American stock market which, according to Joanne Cummings, widow of the former chairman of Consolidated Foods and friend of the Windsors, was valued at about $10 million. But he needed it if he was to keep Wallis in the style to which she was accustomed. It was a deep-rooted fear of his that he might die before her and he wanted everything to be in order. He used his visits to the United States to get as much advice as possible on future investments, and would spend long hours picking top businessmen's brains. 

Golf is a sport which not only takes up a great deal of time but also involves some pretty magnificent scenery. Trips to the courses of Long Island would mean staying at wonderful properties with excellent society hostesses such as Martha Slater or C. Z. Winston Guest. Such friends were able to disclose to me what happened at more relaxing times. However, I suspect that both passions, golf and money, were really forms of escape: from town, from gossip and from lunch parties. 

The Duke created the most fantastic garden and landscaping 

PERHAPS the most illuminating legacy of the Windsors was their properties. Fort Belvedere was probably the model in terms of its utter privacy and its classic English garden, which he tried so often to repeat. Chateau de la Cro‘ on the Cap d'Antibes is now a burnt-out shell and a shadow of its former self. The villa in the Bois de Boulogne acted as their official residence in Paris, where much of their entertaining took place. Even now that it has been extensively restored, and in spite of the fact that it contains many of their clothes, possessions and archive photographs, it retains a rather impersonal ambience. 

La Moulin de la Tuilerie was their country retreat and of all their residences this was the one I most wanted to visit. Though it ended up being the last, it was worth it. 

The former mill has been sold twice over, contains none of their possessions and the once splendid gardens have all but disappeared, yet it somehow retains for me a much stronger and more personal atmosphere. 

It was here that they had guests to stay, that the Duke, bent over a rake after lunch, created the most fantastic garden and landscaping; and it was here that they buried their dogs. Those are the physical elements but the overriding sensation was that this was his domain, his creation and his escape. 

After all those months of searching I think I found the spirit of my great-uncle in that small corner of France, and it wasn't at all what I had been expecting. It could not have been farther away from the personal tragedy of the early years of their exile or the glitzy cafe society world with which they both became associated in their later years. 

I believe that ultimately they were happy, and I think I would like to have known them, especially my great-uncle.'