The Regent's Daughter: (Georgian Series) (43 page)

With this idea in mind she looked about her and when at her grandmother’s Drawing Room she caught sight of her Aunt Mary in conversation with her father’s cousin William Duke of Gloucester. A mischievous idea came to Charlotte. Silly Billy, as the Regent with his love of nicknames had called him, was attached to Mary in a lukewarm way; as for Mary she hoped to marry her cousin; and would have done so had not the Queen stood out firmly against it. The old King of course in his day had been against any of his daughters marrying. Poor things, thought Charlotte, for they had wanted to … desperately.

The more she thought of Silly Billy the better she liked the idea. Mary had been rather actively spying for her mother recently and it would teach her a lesson; and when the little joke was over – for over it would be in due course – it might well be that the Queen would not attempt to stand in her daughter’s way any longer.

The more she thought of the idea the better she liked it. It would create a diversion and some amusement and heaven knew she was in need of that.

She selected Lord Yarmouth for her confidence. As Lady Hertford’s son he was on good terms with the Regent; and he really was a rather stupid dandy so it would be easy to try it out on him. Moreover he had, in a rather clumsy way, been trying to gain her confidence lately and knowing her fondness for dogs had given her a delightful French poodle. She loved the poodle but it did not change her opinion of the ‘Yarmouth Bloater’ as the writers called him in their lampoons.

She did not have to wait long for Yarmouth to call upon her. He said he came to inquire about the little French dog.

Charlotte assured him that her poodle was adorable and showed him to Yarmouth who pretended to be most affectionate towards the animal. Superciliously Charlotte watched him patting her dog. Then she said: ‘I have something to confide in you, Lord Yarmouth.’

His bloater face was suffused with gratification. All his efforts were to be rewarded. Charlotte was going to make him her confidant and the Regent would realize his importance.

‘You know, my lord, I am not eager for the Orange match.’

Yarmouth looked grave. It was his duty as the Regent’s friend to make her realize the advantages of union with Holland.

‘Because,’ she went on, ‘I have a fancy for another.’

Lord Yarmouth’s whiskers bristled. ‘Your Highness, if you would tell me the name …’

‘It is the Duke of Gloucester.’

‘The d … d … d …’ spluttered Yarmouth.

‘Yes,’ giggled Charlotte. ‘The … d … d … d … of Gloucester, of course.’

‘Your father’s cousin!’

‘Why not?’

‘But Your Highness cannot really mean this!’

‘I have always liked the Duke of Gloucester.’

‘Your Highness, he is twenty years older than you are.’

‘If I do not mind, why should other people?’

‘I do not think His Highness, the Regent …’

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders. ‘I know very well,’ she said, ‘that he can prevent my marrying the Duke of Gloucester by withholding his consent, but if he does I shall state publicly that I refuse to marry anyone else.’

Lord Yarmouth could scarcely wait to report to the Regent.

The Prince strode up and down his apartment.

‘Why should I be cursed with such a daughter? Gloucester! Is she mad? He’s thirty-seven years old. I never liked him. He’s a fool. Silly Billy to be the husband of my daughter! I think she has gone raving mad. Why should I be surrounded by such women? What have I done?’ Floods of self-pity overwhelmed him. He, who had been ready to be friendly with her, to indulge her. Hadn’t he given her that magnificent sapphire? And what about the greyhound and all the fetes and balls he planned for her? And she repaid him by refusing suitable Orange and declaring her preference for Gloucester. ‘Gloucester Cheese,’ he cried, rounding on Yarmouth. ‘Indeed, he’s nothing but a cheese. He has no sense … or little of it. The fellow’s a pompous fool; and why, because of his origins! They say his mother was a milliner. My uncle had no right to marry so low. He did it against my father’s wish, as you know. And it was due to him that we had this accursed Marriage Act. His mother might have
been a beauty but she was illegitimate … and my uncle had no right to bring her into the family. And this daughter of mine chooses her son in preference to the Prince of Orange. The Cheese instead of the Orange. Did you ever hear of such folly, eh?’

Lord Yarmouth replied that he had been thunderstruck when the Princess told him of her preference. He had not believed her and insisted that she was joking. But no, she had said; she preferred Gloucester to Orange and if she couldn’t have him, she would have no one.

‘I don’t believe it,’ cried the Regent. ‘How could a young girl like Charlotte fancy that fool Silly Billy? Besides he’s been dancing attendance on the Princess Mary for years. It’s time he married her.’

‘Her Majesty …’

‘Oh, I know, Her Majesty is against the match. Her Majesty is against all matches for her daughters, but while Silly Billy might do well enough for Mary he is no match for Charlotte.’

‘What does Your Highness wish me to do?’

‘To tell her I say No! And the sooner she comes to her senses and takes Orange the better.’

The Duke of Gloucester could not help but be flattered. The young Princess wanted to marry him – and she the future Queen of England!

It was true that he had been attached to Mary for years, but that had never come to anything; and such a dazzling prospect as marriage with the heiress presumptive was enough to turn anyone’s head, certainly such an unbalanced one as Gloucester’s.

He had always been conscious of the humble origins of his mother because there had been plenty to remind him of them; and although she had been a good woman of remarkable beauty and had conducted her life with more decorum and dignity than most members of the family, her birth had been a handicap – particularly as she was not even legitimate.

Here was a chance to wipe out that stain. He would be the husband of the Queen … for Charlotte would be that one day. The King was growing more feeble every day and the Regent was scarcely robust. He could look fine enough in all his elegant glitter but he was constantly being bled and was subject to
mysterious illnesses. Gloucester could not help walking around with his head held high and a new arrogance had crept into his manner.

The Princess Mary drooped visibly as she saw her chance of marriage disappearing. William had been her comfort; and they had resigned themselves to the fact they could not yet be married, but she had always believed they would in time. And now that hope was threatened by Charlotte’s extraordinary statement.

The Regent went to his mother to talk of Charlotte.

‘I believe,’ he said, ‘that it is just a cover. It’s Devonshire she’s after. No girl could seriously contemplate marrying Silly Billy.’

‘I believe Charlotte would go to any lengths to disturb us.’

‘But she is thinking of marriage! Billy should have been married years ago … to Mary.’ It was a reproof to his mother. She was constantly referring to his mistake in marrying Caroline instead of her niece and now of course that he was not so pleased with Miss Knight she was giving little digs about his taking her away. So this was just a gentle retaliation. They worked together nowadays, which was more agreeable to them both. Sentimental as he was, it suited his moods and ideals to be devoted to his mother and to know that she was to him. With such a relationship which existed between himself and his wife and daughter, he could not afford trouble with his mother in addition.

‘William is a fool,’ said the Queen tersely. ‘He sways this way and that. First he wants to marry Mary … but Charlotte only has to mention his name in this ridiculous way and he turns to her.’

‘He’s ambitious as well as silly,’ said the Prince. ‘Think what it would mean to him. But the whole thing is a plot of Charlotte’s. She’s turned against Orange and she’s after Devonshire. I wish to God I could get the Orange match settled.’

‘We must try to bring this about,’ said the Queen. ‘And Charlotte must be made to see that no one takes this Gloucester affair seriously.’

Meanwhile Charlotte was writing gleefully to Mercer telling her all about the consternation, but being careful not to put her true feelings on to paper. Those letters she had written to Hesse
and which were still in his possession haunted her a little. They reminded her too that she must exercise a little caution – even to Mercer.

But she talked to Cornelia about the affair. ‘Poor Mary!’ she said. ‘I know she has not always been my friend and I don’t trust her. I don’t really trust any of the aunts. The old Begum trained them all to spy for her and they can’t stop themselves doing it. But I am sorry for her, because she is old and would like to be married … and free from bondage, for while they remain spinsters, poor old aunts, they will have to do what the Queen tells them. My Uncle Brunswick has lost his wife. Now why should he not marry Mary? Don’t you think that’s a good idea?’

‘It has always been believed that one day she would marry Gloucester.’

‘But how can she if I marry him?’

‘You are not serious.’

That made Charlotte laugh. ‘Well, I think until she does marry Gloucester Mary ought to have another hope. Put it about, Notte dear, that there is a chance of her marrying Brunswick. That would cheer her a great deal.’

‘My dear Princess, what plots are you considering!’

‘My dear Notte, you must admit that it has made life just a little less dull. I am sure all the writers are pleased with me. I have given them plenty to write about.’

It was true. The press was full of the Princess Charlotte’s matrimonial prospects.

‘Is it to be the Cheese or the Orange?’ was the question on everyone’s lips.

The hasty betrothal

THE REGENT TEMPORARILY
forgot his daughter’s affairs, for glorious news was reaching him every day. Napoleon was being routed everywhere. The battle of Leipzig had taken place and this was to prove decisive. In Napoleon’s disastrous retreat from Moscow he had left behind him over a thousand pieces of cannon and these the Russian Emperor was setting up as a memorial to their great victory. At Dresden the French had surrendered
and the entire German Empire was liberated from the conqueror. In Amsterdam the Dutch had turned out the invader and were shouting for the return of the House of Orange.

The Regent who looked upon these victories as his, who had followed in detail the manoeuvring of the British armies, was exultant. He rode to open Parliament with his usual pomp and this time no voice was raised against him, although there was none for him. He could not greatly care. He was seeing himself as the victorious general, for he had always longed to lead an army to victory and if he could not do so in fact had done so a thousand times in his imagination.

His speech was fired with eloquence. He dwelt lovingly on the recent victories, of the hardships that had been endured, of the years of strain and trial which that man Napoleon had imposed on the world. But we had stood firm against him; we had come through magnificently.

He was acting a part as he could do so well. He was the great soldier who had never fought a battle; he was the man who had led his country to victory and brought freedom to the world.

He was magnanimous in victory, declaring: ‘We shall not require sacrifices from the French of any description inconsistent with her honour or just pretensions as a nation.’

His eyes filled with tears as he thought of his dear friend and cousin Louis XVIII of France who had been holding his Court in Aylesbury and would soon now be returning to his country.

Afterwards he went to his mother, for she was willing to share his illusion that he was the main architect of peace.

He walked up and down her apartment, his arm through hers. ‘The Corsican’s star has set,’ he declared. ‘This is new freedom for the world. All our struggles have not been in vain. We have fought and won.’

He took from his pocket a snuffbox on which was a miniature of himself.

‘I hope when you use this you will not feel ashamed of the face that adorns it,’ he said emotionally.

The Queen replied that she would be proud … proud indeed.

‘I believe,’ he replied, ‘that now you may think me worthy of my family and this country.’

‘I am proud of you,’ replied the Queen, ‘proud of you and
the country which has stood for so long alone … facing this tyrant. And now I hear his glory is over. Is it true that they are sending him into exile?’

‘Exile in Elba,’ confirmed the Prince. ‘Thus ends all his pride.’

‘The sun is shining,’ replied the Queen with more sentiment than she usually expressed. ‘May God bless you.’

The Regent took her hand and kissed it.

How pleasant, she thought, to be on these terms with him. How in the old days she had longed for his affection. She wished that she was not aware of his superficiality. But no matter – he was her firstborn; he was the same George whose charms as a baby she had had modelled in wax and kept under a glass case on her dressing table. She did not love him the less because she knew him perhaps as well as anyone did.

How delighted she was to see him flushed with victory. His unpopularity hurt him a good deal; and perhaps now he would be less so. If only he could be rid of Caroline, marry again, produce an heir; or even come to some happier relationship with Charlotte.

‘This will mean that many sovereigns will be claiming their own,’ he was saying. ‘They will bless us for ever because we have restored their kingdoms to them. Not only the King of France, but there’s Spain, Sardinia, the elector of Hanover and Orange …’

A cloud touched his brow. This was a reminder. Orange! Something must be done soon about Charlotte’s marriage to Orange.

The Prince of Orange was coming back to England. He was a better match than ever, the Regent declared to his mother. Now that his House was restored to its own, he did not know of a better opportunity for Charlotte.

He was not going to have any more nonsense about her preference for Gloucester – which he knew was a cover to hide her foolish infatuation for Devonshire – he was going to insist on a meeting with Orange, and Charlotte was going to discover that she approved of the match.