'Crying in the Bathrooms': Royal Author Exposes Sarah Ferguson's 'Absolutely Chaotic' Treatment of Staff

Sarah Ferguson's former staff endured an 'absolutely chaotic' working environment in the UK and abroad over many years, royal biographer Andrew Lownie has claimed in an interview published this week. Speaking about the former Duchess of York's household, Lownie alleged that employees were left in tears, overwhelmed by long hours, last‑minute changes and what he described as a 'Marie Antoinette kind of life.'

Lownie, author of Entitled: The Rise and Fall of the House of York, revisited his research on Sarah Ferguson's inner circle in comments to Page Six, saying that people who took jobs with her often had little idea what they were stepping into. Ferguson, 66, remains a prominent figure in royal circles, divorced from Prince Andrew in 1996 yet still closely tied to him and, until recently, living with him at Royal Lodge in Windsor. Her public persona ranges from children's author to charity patron, but Lownie describes a more disordered picture behind the scenes.

Staff 'Crying in the Bathrooms'

Lownie's central claim is blunt. Working for Ferguson, he said, was 'absolutely chaotic.' He described a boss who 'couldn't make up her mind' and who 'changed her mind at the last minute,' creating constant upheaval for those trying to keep her household and schedule functioning.

According to Lownie, some staff members were pushed to breaking point. He said people were seen 'crying in the bathrooms,' with a few so rattled that they walked out after 'half a day.' That detail, if accurate, speaks volumes about the atmosphere inside the York household. This is not the usual quiet grumbling one hears about demanding employers. It is a portrait of an operation that people simply could not tolerate.

Very few employees stayed, Lownie said. Those who did, he suggested, found themselves essentially on call around the clock. It was 'a sort of 24‑hour‑a‑day job,' he claimed, because Ferguson had 'extraordinary energy' and would be 'flying off in different places, not very organised.' There is a faint note of admiration in that description of her drive, but it is drowned out by the suggestion of relentless, shapeless work for staff trying to keep up.

The picture grows more extravagant when food enters the frame. Lownie claimed that chefs would prepare 'various meals' only for Ferguson to decide at the last second that she wanted to go out instead, leaving expensive food untouched. He called it a 'huge waste' and rolled his eyes, saying, 'It's extraordinary... everything has to be new... Just this Marie Antoinette kind of life, you know, easy come, easy go.'

It is an image that will irritate many readers. Against a background of rising prices and quiet belt‑tightening for most people, hearing about carefully prepared meals binned on a whim lands badly. Yet it is also familiar royal‑adjacent territory: a world where the normal rules of thrift barely apply and where staff are effectively there to absorb the fallout.

Ferguson has not publicly responded to Lownie's latest remarks, and without her side of the story these accounts remain allegations rather than established fact. Nothing is confirmed yet, so everything should be taken with a grain of salt.

Royal Past Still Shadows the Present

Ferguson and Prince Andrew married in 1986, at a time when the House of Windsor still projected a largely uncracked façade. Their divorce in 1996 did not sever personal ties. The pair remained notably close and, from 2008, cohabited at Royal Lodge in Windsor Great Park. For years, that arrangement was a kind of royal curiosity: a divorced couple, living together with their shared history and their two daughters, Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie, flowing in and out.

That delicate set‑up came crashing into modern reality when King Charles moved to strip Andrew of his royal roles and his Windsor base over his association with convicted sex trafficker Jeffrey Epstein. The report states that Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor, 66, then faced a further blow when Thames Valley Police arrested him in February on suspicion of misconduct in public office for allegedly sending confidential trade documents to Epstein. Those claims are hugely serious; their legal and political implications are still not fully clear in the public domain.

Ferguson, who had long managed to occupy a semi‑public role despite past tabloid scandals, appeared to retreat. According to the report, she was effectively missing from view for months after Charles removed Andrew's titles in October. She was later spotted in April 'hiding out' in the Swiss Alps, a source told The Sun, describing her as keeping an 'incredibly low profile' in a quiet, beautiful region where a high‑profile figure could 'lie low when the heat is on.'

Her last alleged sighting before that, the piece states, was at the christening of Beatrice's second child, Athena, in December 2025, following an appearance at the Duchess of Kent's funeral in September 2025. The dates are unusual enough to raise an eyebrow, and the report itself stops short of offering corroboration. Again, none of this has been independently verified, and readers are left sifting through a mixture of on‑the‑record comment, sourced claims and timelines that do not entirely settle.

What emerges, though, is a familiar pattern around Ferguson. Public reinvention and private disorder. Charm in abundance, according to friends, but also a trail of staff who, if Lownie is right, found that working inside her world meant tears behind closed doors and a job that never truly ended.