‘Stalemate’: King Charles‘ $70 million-plus property mess as Andrew refuses to budge

The King faces a growing headache about what to do with a number of stately homes – and various stubborn members of his own family.

The story of the British monarchy is not just one about blokes named Edward trying to retake France and a series of Georges with voracious appetites for partridges and actresses, but one about real estate.

For centuries monarchs nicked it, bought it and acquired it by marriage. (When Charles II married Catherine of Braganza, the royal family picked up the entire city of Bombay).

Today, it is nearly impossible to know exactly how many grace-and-favour homes the royal family has to its name, with estimated numbers ranging from 140 to north of 200.

And our new King Charles III? He has a $70 million-plus property mess on his curiously sausage-fingered hands.

The causes? Spare number one, Prince Andrew, the Duke of York, and spare number two, Prince Harry, the Duke of Sussex.

Not only have they jolted, shaken and thoroughly stirred Buckingham Palace for years (cold washer to the brow anyone?) but the two dukes have now lumped the King with a disaster that involves fragile egos, the royal pecking order and tens of millions of dollars of the most exclusive real estate in the world.

The King is facing a $70 million nightmare involving his brother Prince Andrew and son Prince Harry. Picture: Kirsty Wigglesworth/Pool/AFP

Think of this as a story about Monopoly, monarchy-style.

Let’s start with the biggie, Royal Lodge, a hulking monster of a Georgian house that was the home of the Queen Mother for 50 years. (If those walls could talk … they would probably still be enjoying a gin buzz).

In 2002 she passed away and Andrew, as a senior member of the royal family yet to be held in abject contempt and disgust by anyone with a double digit IQ, was given the primo bit of property.

He signed a 75-year lease, did about $14 million worth of renovations, and, voila, a new lord of the manor was in situ to do some yelling at the gardeners.

Then came Andrew’s self-inflicted downfall courtesy of his pompous and delusional 2019 BBC interview, at which point the public seemed about set to turn up at his gate with pitchforks and flaming torches.

Just like that, he was out as a senior working member of the royal family. Good riddance and all that.

Last year, the duke settled a civil sex abuse case in New York after Perth mother-of-three Virginia Giuffre had accused him of raping her as a teenager on three occasions. Prince Andrew has strongly denied her accusations.

While the duke was, by all accounts, the apple of mother’s eye (which still totally astounds me), when she passed away last year, there was a new sheriff in town.

The newly-enthroned King Charles seemingly had no intention of letting his defrocked brother keep living off the fat of the land and the privilege of living in one of the most coveted pieces of royal real estate.

In March it was revealed that His Majesty had told his younger brother to sling his hook, so to speak, and that it was time to pack up his collection of putters, Clive Cussler novels and Fergie and move into the comparatively weeny Frogmore Cottage.

Prince Andrew is refusing to budge. Picture: Mark Kerrison/In Pictures via Getty Images

Which brings us to the second lot of players in this game – Harry and Meghan, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex – and their controversy-plagued tenancy of the five-bedroom home.

In 2018 they had decided they didn’t want to move into the grand 21-room apartment inside Kensington Palace that the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester had vacated for them, and wanted out of London.

They chose Windsor, with Queen Elizabeth giving them the keys to Frogmore Cottage, which required $4.46 million of Sovereign Grant cash being splashed on the place to bring it up to scratch.

They moved into the cottage in 2019, promptly followed by news of the expensive reno causing a bit of a storm. Ultimately, they would only live there for a scant six months before hotfooting it to Canada for a break in November.

They have not resided at the property since then, only occasionally parking their Rimowa cases there when back in the UK.

In 2020, after signing their reported $US100 million ($145 million) contract with Netflix, they repaid the grant money.

(It has previously been reported that Princess Eugenie and her family were occupying the place. There are some reports suggesting they are still living there, but firm details are hard to come by.)

In February this year, after Harry had mortified The Firm by revealing all in Spare – dodgy daddying, icy “todgers” and behind-the-pub shagging – it was reported that Charles had decided to evict the duo from Frogmore. It looked like two birds, one stone.

Andrew could be downgraded from the prestigious Royal Lodge and shunted to the Sussexes’ temple of chic neutrals and the Palace could send a pointed message about how they felt about Harry’s anti-royal agitating.

(According to the Times, the Sussexes were “financially compensated” after being forced to give back the keys).

The Sussexes were ‘financially compensated’ after being forced to give back the keys. Picture: Timothy A Clary/AFP

Except this cunning plan failed to factor one key thing in: Andrew’s blimpish ego.

All reporting thus far indicates that the Duke of York is about as willing to vacate the grand Royal Lodge as Meghan would be willing to crack a bottle of mid-priced pinot with Princess Michael of Kent, she of the racist broach farrago.

The Times has reported that Andrew “has no intention” of obediently quitting the Lodge, even though renovations are currently going on at the property, with him reportedly having 55 years out of the original 75-year lease to go.

Charles, however, has a trick or two up his Anderson & Sheppard sleeves and His Majesty is also reported to be set to cut his brother’s $464,000 annual allowance. That would mean that the Duke of Yuck wouldn’t be able to keep up with the onerous maintenance obligations on the listed building and its extensive grounds, which would undoubtedly be required by the lease.

A friend of the duke has told the Times: “It’s a very expensive place to live and Andrew doesn’t have a significant source of income, so ultimately he will probably have to move out”.

Still, it’s all a bit of a stalemate. What the hell is a King to do?

He has a duke squatting in a 30-room historic home and another very stylish, I think we can assume, country home of a duke that is in need of a permanent tenant.

Meanwhile, the third set of players with pieces on the board are William and Kate, the Prince and Princess of Wales who moved into the Melrose Place of a royal estate in Windsor in 2022.

They are now living in the chocolate-boxy Adelaide Cottage which is high on Victoriana charm and low on bedrooms, with only a tiddly four to its name. Tricky when longtime live-in nanny Maria Turrion Borrallo is an integral part of the family, and not to mention the rest of their household staff – those sorts who make sure lunch boxes are packed and someone occasionally hoovers the sitting room – needing to be quartered.

Harry and Meghan carry their children up the driveway to Frogmore Cottage. Picture: Netflix

There has been chatter that Royal Lodge might be the Waleses’ ultimate destination, the far grander property being a better fit given they are a heartbeat away from the throne and having an ever-growing staff to boot.

Tired? Confused? In need of a whiteboard to keep track of all of this?

As if Charles didn’t have enough to contend with, having finally gotten the job of his life and keeping Camilla out of the Buckingham Palace cellars before noon, he has this spare-squared tangle to try and sort out.

The King is intent on making the monarchy seem like a leaner, meaner and more efficient outfit where overstuffed dukes don’t get to hang onto grand properties despite fulfilling no sort of public role.

How he achieves this remains to be seen.

While the Daily Mail has reported that Andrew fears that His Majesty might resort to cutting off the power to winkle him out, here’s my suggestion: Just cut off the biscuit supply.

The duke doesn’t drink, no longer gets to play golf on the best courses and is stuck in the UK lest US authorities try and get their hands on him.

I’m guessing the most joy he has in his life these days, aside from seeing his grandchildren, is when Tesco delivers his monthly supply of Jaffa Cakes. So, break the duke’s will via the power of the bicky.

That, or blast Royal Lodge with speakers playing the audio version of Spare, as read by Harry, on repeat. No human could withstand such a brutal experience for long.

Daniela Elser is writer, editor and a royal commentator with more than 15 years’ experience

working with a number of Australia’s leading media titles.