The Regent's Daughter: (Georgian Series) (15 page)

She inclined her head and smiled graciously – like a queen she hoped.

‘It’s a shame. Bringing her up to be a Papist.’

What did they mean? Lady de Clifford had grasped her arm and was hurrying her into the carriage. George leaped in beside her, and the horses started forward.

‘No popery!’ shouted a voice, and the cry was taken up by the crowd.

‘What is the matter with them?’ said Charlotte; and as no one answered she forgot the silly people and went over every incident of the afternoon, dwelling on those delicious moments when she had scored points and startled her father by her intelligence.

It was a lovely cosy feeling to think that she and Mrs Fitzherbert were in league together.

George Keppel said: ‘I shall never do my French and Latin in time. I expect I shall be punished in the morning.’

‘Do it now,’ she commanded.

‘I can’t. I need lots of time.’

‘Here. Give it to me.’

She was in such a benevolent mood that she wanted everyone to feel as happy as she did. George had not done very well in the game. She supposed the Prince had thought what a silly little boy he was and how different from Charlotte. Of course he was younger – but perhaps the Prince did not know that. She hoped he didn’t – and then was ashamed of herself.

‘I’ll do the Latin exercise for you,’ she said, ‘while you do your French. There. Come on, we’ll start now.’

They worked in silence at the table. She was very happy. She loved all the world. She finished the Latin in a very short time
and watched George frowning over the French. She would give him a watch. He had no watch. It would teach him to be more aware of the time and then he would not be behind with his Latin and French lessons. She would give him a horse, too.

She would speak about all this to Lady de Clifford at the first opportunity. And in time she would be on such terms with her father that she would implore him to take back her mother; and they would all live together like a happy family – her mother her father and dearest Mrs Fitzherbert.

George had finished his French and picked up the Latin.

‘There are lots of mistakes in it,’ he said.

‘Be thankful it’s done,’ retorted Charlotte severely.

He would like a watch, she thought fondly. And he shall have it.

Mrs Udney was secretly amused.

‘Pray, Mrs Udney, what do you find so funny?’ demanded Charlotte.

She saw then that Mrs Udney was holding a paper behind her back.

‘Something in the paper, is it?’ said Charlotte. ‘Let me see it.’

‘I don’t think it would be my duty to allow Your Highness to see it.’

‘Mrs Udney, I command you to show me that paper.’

Mrs Udney raised her eyebrows and continued to hold the paper behind her back, but with a quick movement Charlotte snatched it and ran to the window with it.

‘Your Highness!’

‘You may report to Lady de Clifford that I have no manners if you wish.
I
shall report that you are most … d … disobedient.’

‘I am only concerned for Your Highness’s good and I am not sure whether it is good for you to see that paper. I beg of you … most humbly … to give it back to me.’

‘I shall see first what it is you are trying to hide from me.’

‘It is on the second page, Your Highness.’

‘Oh,’ said Charlotte, ‘and it is about my mother I daresay.’

‘Oh no, Your Highness. It is you this time.’

There was no doubt that Mrs Udney was pleased … the horrid creature.

‘Would Your Highness like me to find it for you?’

Charlotte looked at her through narrowed eyes. Perhaps it
was as well to let her do so. There might often be pieces in the paper which she ought to see and therefore if she made it clear that she expected Mrs Udney to show her, the woman might do so – for clearly she enjoyed these pieces.

Charlotte handed her the paper and Mrs Udney opened it and laid it on the table.

‘There, Your Highness.’

‘But what is it supposed to be? That’s meant for Mrs Fitzherbert I suppose. It is not much like her.’

‘Yet Your Highness recognized her.’

‘It’s Mrs Fitzherbert all right, but it makes her nose longer and it is just not beautiful enough.’

‘The object of these cartoons is not to show off beauty but to make the point.’

‘Point? What point? And who is the child she is carrying in her arms? Minney Seymour, I suppose.’

‘Oh, no no. See, the diadem she is wearing. That proclaims her to be royal.’

‘You … you mean … my … myself?’

‘Who else, Your Highness? You
have
been visiting the lady a great deal lately and the point is that the people don’t like it.’

‘The … p … people! What has it to do with the people?’

‘Everything the royal family does is the concern of the people.’

‘But …’

‘You see, Your Highness, she has been given a pair of wings and she is flying up to heaven with you in her arms. Look what you are holding. A rosary … and images of the saints. You see, it means that she is making a Catholic of you.’

‘But it’s nonsense.’

‘She
is
a Catholic and she does seem to be a very special friend.’

‘She has never talked to me about religion.’

‘The people won’t believe that.’

‘It’s just n … nonsense,’ said Charlotte angrily and picking up the paper she threw it on to the floor before walking haughtily out of the room.

Lady de Clifford never took her to Tilney Street now; this meant that not only was she cut off from Mrs Fitzherbert but from the Prince of Wales.

‘Why do I never go with you to see Mrs Fitzherbert and
Minney nowadays?’ she demanded in her forthright way.

Lady de Clifford looked embarrassed.

‘My dear Princess, it is really better not.’

‘Why not? I liked visiting Mrs Fitzherbert. She is my good friend.’

‘In view of the circumstances …’

‘What circumstances?’

‘You don’t understand these things.’

‘Nothing makes me more angry than to be told I don’t understand. If I don’t understand, then explain.’

‘Mrs Fitzherbert is … scarcely a lady you should visit.’

‘Why not? Nobody could be kinder. She is like a queen. I often think Queen Elizabeth must have been a little like her only not so kind. Come along, my lady, do not try to change the subject. Why must I not visit Mrs Fitzherbert?’

‘Your mother …’

‘My mother always spoke most kindly of her – and in any case I am not allowed to see
her
either.’

Oh dear, thought Lady de Clifford, I shall be saying something most indiscreet soon. I really think the task of looking after such a princess is too much for me. It was better to tell the truth otherwise she might say something more shocking.

‘You know that Mrs Fitzherbert is a Catholic and that you may well one day be Queen of England.’

‘I
shall
be Queen of England one day, my lady.’

‘Therefore the people do not wish you to become a Catholic.’

Charlotte stamped her foot. ‘Am I not receiving my religious instruction from the Bish-Up and do you think he would make a Catholic of me?’

Lady de Clifford put her fingers to her ears and begged Charlotte not to utter such heresy.

‘Then tell me how I am in danger of becoming a Catholic.’

‘You are in no danger of course, but the people remember that Mrs Fitzherbert is a Catholic and it is possible that, if you see her very often, she might persuade you to become one.’

‘It’s nonsense … nonsense.’

‘The people are often mistaken, but princes and princesses have to behave in a way which pleases them.’

‘So the people have decided that I am not to see my dear Mrs Fitzherbert.’

‘They have made this quite clear.’

‘I suppose the old Begum has given her orders.’

‘Her Majesty has said nothing as yet, but she will as soon as she reads the spate of comments in the newspapers.’

Charlotte felt an impulse to cry – loudly and angrily. But she did not. There was too much weeping in the family and it had made it a rather ridiculous habit. Real tears should be for real tragedy; and this was one she felt; but she must not cry.

‘Cliffy,’ she said, ‘dear Cliffy, could I see Mrs Fitzherbert once … just once more? Could we ride there … with me dressed like an ordinary young lady … just once … so that I could talk to her? I promise it would be just that once.’

‘It would be very unwise,’ said Lady de Clifford.

But Charlotte knew how to wheedle her governess.

She did allow herself the luxury of tears when she was alone with Mrs Fitzherbert.

She lay against the sweet-smelling bosom and told Maria how unhappy she was that they were not to meet.

‘I shall have news of you,’ soothed Maria. ‘And perhaps later on this nonsense will be forgotten.’

‘You see,’ Charlotte explained, ‘it had started to change. You changed it. But it won’t go on now.’

‘It can. I will talk to the Prince about you. I will make him interested in what you are doing.’

‘Yes? But it won’t be the same. I loved it here. This little house is so different from Carlton House and Windsor and Kew and the rest of them. It’s different from Montague House. It’s like a home … the sort of home I should like to live in sometimes. Perhaps I’d like to come to it when I felt sad. I have to learn to be a queen and so I suppose I need a palace for that. But I want to come and see you sometimes.’

‘Well, perhaps you will one day. These things happen and then after a while they are forgotten. You’ll come again perhaps and play with Minney.’

‘Minney is lucky … does she know it?’

‘I think she does.’

Charlotte stood up straight and said almost regally: ‘Goodbye, Mrs Fitzherbert.’

‘Let us say
au revoir
instead of goodbye.’

Charlotte held up her face to be kissed.

‘You are still my friend?’ she asked.

‘I’ll always be your friend,’ said Mrs Fitzherbert.

Oatlands

THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE
was not exactly ill but she was now and then listless; her appetite was not so good as it had been; suddenly she would fly into a rage and although it was quickly over, Lady de Clifford thought she should report to the Queen that the Princess Charlotte’s health was not as good as it had been and it might well be that she needed a change of air.

The Queen consulted the King, who immediately began to worry.

‘The child should see her mother. It’s this she’s fretting for. Not natural, eh?’

‘I do not see what good her mother could do her. We cannot allow them to meet until this affair is settled. George said he was going to look through the evidence again. There is no doubt about it that that woman is leading a very immoral life at Montague House. It’s no place for the Princess.’

‘There was nothing proved against her. I think those people … those Douglases, or whatever their names are, were rogues.’

‘The sort of people with whom one would expect Caroline to be on friendly terms. No, the child cannot see her mother … not yet at any rate. That would be tantamount to receiving her at Court and that we cannot do. George would be very much against it.’

‘I’m not so sure,’ said the King with unusual firmness, ‘that
I
should be against it. I’m sure the woman means well. She’s all right. Not bad-looking. I can’t see why George can’t live with her. It’s what’s expected of us, eh, what?’

‘She is impossible. I can scarcely believe that she is a princess. She behaves like some low serving girl. No, with Charlotte’s temperament – which I fear she has inherited from her mother – it would be folly to bring them together.’

‘Something will have to be done about it soon. She’s got friends in the House. Canning’s one … Perceval’s another. They’ll be bringing the matter up, depend upon it. And then what are we going to do, eh, what?’

‘At least do our duty by the child until we are forced to do otherwise. The sea air would be good for her. I believe Bognor to be an excellent spot. I think I shall have inquiries made.’

‘There could be no harm in that, eh, what?’ said the King; and he was thinking of the Princess of Wales with her ready
laughter and low-cut gowns, and free ways with all those men who had visited Montague House.

Nowadays, he thought, these young people! They don’t think of doing their duty. All they want is pleasure.

Then he thought of Sarah Lennox making hay in the gardens of Holland House as he rode past and how pretty she was, and how he had thought of nothing but Sarah Lennox for weeks, until he married a plain German princess and had turned from Sarah to do his duty.

We were different, he thought. Not like the young people nowadays. My sons for instance …

He must not think of them. When he did, he heard voices in his head and he thought he was going mad.

Let the Queen arrange what should be done about Charlotte. But he was not going to let her and George treat that poor woman too badly. A nice woman … in her way. If she had been sent over as
his
bride …

He looked at Charlotte’s plain face and her cold eyes and ugly mouth. He had never loved her, but she had done her duty and so had he.

Why couldn’t people be like they used to be?

It was decided that while plans were being made for Charlotte to spend a period by the sea, she should go and stay with the Duke and Duchess of York at Oatlands.

Charlotte was not displeased. Uncle Fred was her favourite uncle and his duchess, being eccentric in the extreme, interested her.

Life was certainly odd at Oatlands and Charlotte was far from bored; she shared to some extent the Duchess’s love of animals though she was not as fanatical about them. Still, a short stay at Oatlands could be a pleasure.

Merry Uncle Fred, having escorted Charlotte to his home, left her there with his wife while he went off to be with his latest mistress which Aunt Frederica did not mind in the least.

‘We live our own lives,’ she told Charlotte, treating her as an adult, which delighted the Princess. ‘It is a way wise people come to in time.’

The Duchess was as good as her word for she allowed Charlotte to follow her own inclination, too. To live at Oatlands was more like living in a zoo than in a royal palace; and as long as
her animals were happy Frederica cared about little else. It was not unusual for Charlotte to awake in the morning to find a monkey swinging on her bedcurtains. The dogs were innumerable for there were many strays who had found their way into Frederica’s haven. There were also rabbits, hares and birds; for if she found any animal that was unable to fend for itself it was brought to Oatlands to be healed by her and then allowed to go free or make its home there. No animal was ever turned away; cats, dogs, monkeys, rabbits and squirrels lived in the park or the house, whichever they preferred.