Rumors regarding Prince William’s alleged affair have proliferated online, with many speculating about Rose Hanbury’s involvement. Once considered a mere family friend, she is now the subject of suspicion as a potential homewrecker.
Amid Kate Middleton’s absence from public view due to her recovery from abdominal surgery, speculations about Prince William’s fidelity have surfaced. As these rumors circulate globally, royal enthusiasts are scrutinizing the persona of the purported mistress.
Known among aristocrats as Lady Rose Hanbury, she holds the title of Marchioness of Cholmondeley. Her longstanding ties to the British Royal Family stem from her affluent family’s esteemed position in British high society. Married to David Cholmondeley, the 7th Marquess of Cholmondeley, the couple resides together and raises three children at their estate.
The friendship between Prince William’s and Rose Hanbury’s families has endured for years. However, recent scrutiny arose after the release of a photo featuring Prince William purportedly riding in a car with his wife, Kate Middleton. Despite this, royal enthusiasts cast doubt on the identity of the woman beside Prince William.
The woman’s head is turned away from the cameras in the photo, a behavior unlike that of Princess Catherine, who typically faces the cameras boldly. Moreover, she appears to be gazing at a brick wall, a detail that fans have contested.
Comments from users reflected skepticism about the woman’s identity, with some suggesting that the woman could be Rose Hanbury, Prince William’s alleged mistress, rather than Kate Middleton. Others questioned the authenticity of the photo, speculating that it might be a photoshopped composite of Kate Middleton from another image.
Although the agency that captured the photo, Goff Photos, affirmed its authenticity, stating that the images were cropped and lightened but not doctored, speculation about the alleged affair persisted. Even Stephen Colbert addressed the situation in a comedy sketch on national American television, highlighting the ongoing rumors.
For those unfamiliar with the Royal Family, Rose Hanbury may appear as a newcomer to the royal stage. However, she has been intertwined with the lives of Prince William and Kate for quite some time.
Their families’ close relationship was evident in their attendance at a gala dinner in June 2016 to support East Anglia’s Children’s Hospices. Despite the apparent camaraderie captured in photos, certain images from the event sparked controversy among fans, fueling speculation about underlying tensions.
Their continued association was observed in 2020 when Rose Hanbury and her husband were invited to celebrate Kate’s 38th birthday at Anmer Hall in Norfolk, indicating the ongoing presence of their families in each other’s lives.
Rose Hanbury and her family are known to be close friends of the Prince and Princess of Wales, residing just three miles from Anmer Hall, the royal couple’s residence. Lady Rose Cholmondeley, along with her husband and children, lives at Houghton Hall in Norfolk, while the Prince and Princess of Wales reside at Anmer Hall.
The couple welcomed twin sons, Alexander Hugh George Cholmondeley and Lord Oliver Timothy George Cholmondeley, in October 2009. Later, in 2016, they had a daughter named Lady Iris Marina Aline Cholmondeley.
Currently, swirling rumors suggest Prince William may have had an affair, with Rose Hanbury at the center of speculation. Despite the rumors, Rose Hanbury continues to focus on her roles as a wife, mother, and prominent figure in aristocratic circles.
As speculation persists, any appearances by Rose Hanbury at royal events garner further attention. Prince William’s recent public appearances without his wedding ring have fueled the rumors.
In a notable incident on March 12, 2024, Prince William was photographed alongside his stepmother, Queen Camilla, at a royal event. However, observers quickly noticed that Prince William was not wearing his wedding ring. This observation sparked discussions and concerns among royal enthusiasts on social media platforms.
Similarly, in a recent family photo shared on the Prince and Princess of Wales’ Instagram account, Princess Catherine was seen without her wedding ring. This absence prompted speculation and questions from followers about the state of the royal couple’s marriage.
Despite these observations, Prince William and Princess Catherine have made public appearances together, including being photographed in a car. These sightings have reignited speculation and scrutiny about their relationship status.
Fans of the royal family have closely analyzed every detail of their public outings, drawing comparisons to past royal dramas and expressing concern about the state of their marriage. The ongoing speculation reflects the enduring fascination with the British Royal Family and its members’ personal lives.
I Returned Home from Work to Find My Adopted Twin Daughters, 16, Had Changed the Locks and Kicked Me Out
Thirteen years ago, I adopted my late husband’s secret twin daughters after his fatal car crash revealed his double life. I gave them everything, but at sixteen, they locked me out of my home. One week later, I discovered the shocking reason for their actions.
The morning Andrew died began like any other. The sun had just started peeking through my window, painting everything in a soft, golden light that made even my shabby countertops look almost magical.
It was the last normal moment I’d have for a long, long time.
When the phone rang, I almost didn’t answer it. Who calls at 7:30 in the morning? But something, intuition maybe, made me pick up.
“Is this Ruth?” A man’s voice, formal, hesitant.
“Speaking.” I took another sip of coffee, still watching the steam dance.
“Ma’am, I’m Officer Matthews with the Police Department. I’m sorry to inform you, but your husband was in an accident this morning. He didn’t survive.”
The mug slipped from my hand, shattering against the linoleum. Coffee splashed across my bare feet, but I barely felt it. “What? No, that’s… no… not my Andrew!”
“Ma’am…” The officer’s voice softened. “There’s more you need to know. There was another woman in the car who also died… and two surviving daughters. Records in our database confirm they’re Andrew’s children.”
I slid down the kitchen cabinet until I hit the floor, barely registering the coffee soaking into my robe.
The room spun around me as ten years of marriage shattered like my coffee mug. “Children?”
“Twin girls, ma’am. They’re three years old.”
Three years old. Three years of lies, of business trips and late meetings. Three years of another family living parallel to mine, just out of sight. The jerk had been living a whole other life while I’d been suffering through infertility treatments and the heartache of two miscarriages.
“Ma’am? Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure I was. Not really. “What… what happens to them now?”
“Their mother had no living relatives. They’re currently in emergency foster care until—”
I hung up. I couldn’t bear to hear more.
The funeral was a blur of black clothes and pitying looks. I stood there like a statue, accepting condolences from people who didn’t know whether to treat me like a grieving widow or a scorned woman.
But then I saw those two tiny figures in matching black dresses, holding hands so tightly their knuckles were white. My husband’s secret daughters.
One had her thumb in her mouth. The other was picking at the hem of her dress. They looked so lost and alone. Despite the hurt of Andrew’s betrayal, my heart went out to them.
“Those poor things,” my mother whispered beside me. “Their foster family couldn’t make it today. Can you imagine? No one here for them except the social worker.”
I watched as one twin stumbled, and her sister caught her automatically like they were two parts of the same person. Something in my chest cracked open.
“I’ll take them,” I heard myself say.
Mom turned to me, shocked.
“Ruth, honey, you can’t be serious. After what he did?”
“Look at them, Mom. They’re innocent in all this and they’re alone.”
“But—”
“I couldn’t have my own children. Maybe… maybe this is why.”
The adoption process was a nightmare of paperwork and questioning looks.
Why would I want my cheating husband’s secret children? Was I mentally stable enough? Was this some form of revenge?
But I kept fighting, and eventually, Carrie and Dana became mine.
Those first years were a dance of healing and hurting. The girls were sweet but wary as if waiting for me to change my mind. I’d catch them whispering to each other late at night, making plans for “when she sends us away.”
It broke my heart every time.
“We’re having mac and cheese again?” seven-year-old Dana asked one night, her nose wrinkled.
“It’s what we can afford this week, sweetie,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “But look — I put extra cheese on yours, just how you like it.”
Carrie, always the more sensitive one, must have heard something in my voice. She elbowed her sister.
“Mac and cheese is my favorite,” she announced, though I knew it wasn’t.
By the time they turned ten, I knew I had to tell them the truth. The whole truth.
I’d practiced the words a hundred times in front of my bathroom mirror, but sitting there on my bed, watching their innocent faces, I felt like I might throw up.
“Girls,” I started, my hands trembling. “There’s something about your father and how you came to be my daughters that you need to know.”
They sat cross-legged on my faded quilt, mirror images of attention.
I told them everything about Andrew’s double life, their birth mother, and that terrible morning I got the call. I told them how my heart broke when I saw them at the funeral and how I knew then that we were meant to be together.
The silence that followed felt endless. Dana’s face had gone pale, her freckles standing out like dots of paint. Carrie’s lower lip trembled.
“So… so Dad was a liar?” Dana’s voice cracked. “He was cheating on you?”
“And our real mom…” Carrie wrapped her arms around herself. “She died because of him?”
“It was an accident, sweetheart. A terrible accident.”
“But you…” Dana’s eyes narrowed, something hard and horrible creeping into her young face. “You just took us? Like… like some kind of consolation prize?”
“No! I took you because—”
“Because you felt sorry for us?” Carrie interrupted, tears streaming now. “Because you couldn’t have your own kids?”
“I took you because I loved you the moment I saw you,” I reached for them, but they both flinched back. “You weren’t a consolation prize. You were a gift.”
“Liar!” Dana spat, jumping off the bed. “Everyone’s a liar! Come on, Carrie!”
They ran to their room and slammed the door. I heard the lock click, followed by muffled sobs and furious whispers.
The next few years were a minefield. Sometimes we’d have good days when we went on shopping trips or cuddled together on the sofa for movie nights. But whenever they got angry, the knives came out.
“At least our real mom wanted us from the start!”
“Maybe she’d still be alive if it wasn’t for you!”
Each barb found its mark with surgical precision. But they were entering their teens, so I weathered their storms, hoping they’d understand someday.
Then came that awful day shortly after the girls turned sixteen.
I came home from work and my key wouldn’t turn in the lock. Then I spotted the note taped to the door.
“We’re adults now. We need our own space. Go and live with your mom!” it read.
My suitcase sat by the door like a coffin for all my hopes. Inside, I could hear movement, but no one answered my calls or pounding. I stood there for an hour before climbing back into my car.
At Mom’s house, I paced like a caged animal.
“They’re acting out,” she said, watching me wear a path in her carpet. “Testing your love.”
“What if it’s more than that?” I stared at my silent phone. “What if they’ve finally decided I’m not worth it? That I’m just the woman who took them in out of pity?”
“Ruth, you stop that right now.” Mom grabbed my shoulders.
“You’ve been their mother in every way that matters for thirteen years. They’re hurting, yes. They’re angry about things neither of you can change. But they love you.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because they’re acting exactly like you did at sixteen.” She smiled sadly. “Remember when you ran away to Aunt Sarah’s?”
I did. I’d been so angry about… what was it? Something trivial. I’d lasted three days before homesickness drove me back.
Five more days crawled by.
I called in sick to work. I barely ate. Every time my phone buzzed, I lunged for it, only to be disappointed by another spam call or a text from a concerned friend.
Then, finally, on the seventh day, I got the call I’d longed for.
“Mom?” Carrie’s voice was small and soft, like when she used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms. “Can you come home? Please?”
I drove back with my heart in my throat.
The last thing I expected when I rushed through the front door was to find my house transformed. Fresh paint coated the walls, and the floors gleamed.
“Surprise!” The girls appeared from the kitchen, grinning like they used to when they were little.
“We’ve been planning this for months,” Dana explained, bouncing on her toes. “Working at the mall, babysitting, saving everything.”
“Sorry for the mean note,” Carrie added sheepishly. “It was the only way we could think of to keep it a surprise.”
They led me to what used to be their nursery, now transformed into a beautiful home office. The walls were soft lavender, and there, by the window, hung a photo of the three of us on adoption day, all teary-eyed and smiling.
“You gave us a family, Mom,” Carrie whispered, her eyes wet. “Even though you didn’t have to, even though we were a reminder of everything that hurt. You chose us anyway, and you’ve been the best mom ever.”
I pulled my girls close, breathing in the familiar smell of their shampoo, feeling their hearts beat against mine.
“You two are the best things that have ever happened to me. You gave me a reason to keep going. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
“But we do know, Mom,” Dana said, her voice muffled against my shoulder. “We’ve always known.”
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