Town & Country sent a journalist to Norfolk, England and they tried to get some dirt on the situation between the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and Rose Hanbury, the Marchioness of Cholmondeley. The rumors swirled for several months, but they’ve died down significantly this summer, probably because William and Kate haven’t done that much in the past few months. Out of sight, out of mind, especially when there’s a biracial duchess to bully, I suppose. The thing is, Town & Country didn’t speak to many people who actually wanted to talk about the Cambridges’ marriage or the affair stories, so the article became sort of a hilarious vignette about these terrible aristocrats who just want to be left in peace to have their quiet affairs and go grouse-shooting the old way. Here’s the section which is explicitly about Rose, Kate and William:

Yet residents have become increasingly prickly of late, for this corner of England has been shaken by the storm of reports about the Cholmondeleys and the Cambridges. The inbreeding jokes have faded, only to be replaced by catty riffs on the “Turnip Toffs,” a gang of viscounts and marquesses whose titles betray a down-to-earth approach to life in a fertile county where turnips were once a vital crop.

…As well as being neighbors, Rose and Kate are of a similar age and attend the same charity galas and garden parties. The Marchioness was a guest at the Cambridges’ wedding in 2011, and they mingled at events at Houghton, including its annual horse trials. (Zara Tindall, the queen’s eldest granddaughter, was competing at Houghton when I visited in May, although, I was politely informed, the owners were not at home.)

The women, apparently fast friends, represent the modern face of North Norfolk, which has been changing while still eschewing the showiness of the smarter counties in London’s orbit. The area has become a magnet for middle class holidaymakers and second home owners.

Anmer—and North Norfolk at large—has been a sanctuary for the Cambridges, and its residents are protective of its discreet atmosphere. Weeks after the rumors began to circulate, along with the Turnip Toff headlines, the gentlest inquiry is shot down faster than an overweight partridge.

“It’s a load of bollocks,” Lady Leicester says. Her friend Monica Vinader, a Spanish-born Norfolk jeweler, has joined us for lunch. She is delighted that the Duchess of Cambridge has just worn a pair of her earrings at the Chelsea Flower Show in London, but that’s as much royal chat as she is prepared to have. Desmond MacCarthy insists, “There are more interesting things to talk about.”

Meanwhile, Davina Barber rolls her eyes so hard they nearly fall out. It’s hard to gauge in the withering responses where denial meets discretion. But whatever the truth, there is a weariness of the tabloids’ interest in the county and the code of omertà that has become as much a part of the culture as worn-out carpets and freezers full of pheasant.

[From Town & Country]

As I read the entire article – which was so well-written and a real joy to read, thanks T&C – I was struck by so many things at once: how funny it is that these terrible people take pride in wearing worn-out tweed and not being “showy,” like it would be a crime to wear new clothes or serve good-quality wine to one’s guests. I also think that despite the eye-rolling and denials, of course there’s gossip. Of course the aristo set was talking – amongst themselves – about whether Kate shunned Rose and whether Rose and William got too close and all of that. This article really shows that they all know each other, they all socialize together and they’re all in each other’s business, but they’re not going to talk to outsiders about it.

Photos courtesy of Avalon Red.