The Regent's Daughter: (Georgian Series) (50 page)

But if she could not take Uncle Augustus very seriously, it was different with Brougham and Whitbread.

They called. They had heard that she wished to break off the Orange match. Then perhaps she would allow them to draft the letter for her.

She had gone so far and there was no turning back. In any case it was what she had decided.

So in his rooms in Clifford Street a bewildered Prince of Orange read a letter from his affianced bride which set down her refusal in such terms which might have been composed by a lawyer – which indeed they had.

Night flight

CHARLOTTE WAITED FOR
the storm to break.

There was only one thing to do. She wrote to Mercer begging her to come to Warwick House will all speed. She needed her now as never before.

Mercer arrived and when she came it was to find that the Prince whom Mercer knew through Charlotte’s letters as F was with the Princess.

‘Alone!’ cried Mercer, shocked.

Cornelia admitted that this was so.

‘But this is madness,’ said Mercer coolly. ‘For heaven’s sake go in and put a stop to this.’

‘I dare not,’ said Cornelia. ‘The Princess has changed lately. She would be very angry and she does not listen to me as she used to.’

Mercer looked at Cornelia in surprise. What had happened to the strong-minded woman whom she had grudgingly admired and made her ally?

She herself strode into the room and broke up the
tête-à-tête
.

It was not difficult, for at the sight of her friend Charlotte gave a cry of joy and flung herself into Mercer’s arms.

‘Thank God you have come, Mercer,’ she cried; and for a few moments she even forgot F in the joy of having her friend with her.

Mercer took charge. Had Charlotte written to her father? Charlotte explained that she had thought William would have done so; but apparently William had not.

‘You must write to your father without delay,’ said Mercer. ‘You must tell him that you have broken the engagement. We will compose the letter immediately and send it to him.’

Charlotte obeyed as always and when the letter was written she felt so frightened that the pain in her knee was almost unbearable and on Mercer’s suggestion she went to bed.

The Regent would be reading the letter
now
! she thought. It would only take a very short time to deliver it, as Warwick House was next door to Carlton House and if he were at home it would be in his hands now.

Several days passed during which Charlotte found the suspense intolerable.

The foreign visitors left England. The Duchess of Oldenburg – slyly delighted at the thought of the impending storm which she had helped to raise – took a fond farewell of Charlotte and wished her all happiness in the future.

F was leaving with the Russian party. He came to see Charlotte but Mercer would not allow a private
tête-à-tête
, insisting that Cornelia be present.

F was not entirely sorry to go; he knew that trouble was imminent and he was not sure that the life of a Prince Consort was one which would suit him; he liked to roam the world in search of romance; he could see how stultifying to a man of his temperament marriage – even such a brilliant one – would be. Moreover, Charlotte’s naïveté was delightful, up to a point; he preferred the cultured company of Madame Récamier. But he was automatically ardent. Charlotte did not know it but it was a habit of his with the woman of the moment and his great success was due, as he was well aware, to his ability while he was with a woman, to make her feel that she was the only person in the world of any consequence to him. Whereas F, being a realist, admitted to himself that the only person of any consequence in the world to him was F himself.

‘You will write to me,’ said the young Princess.

‘Nothing will prevent me.’

‘Cornelia will arrange that your letters reach me and mine reach you.’

Cornelia swore that she would do so; and on that guarantee the lovers parted.

A few days passed. It was Mercer’s opinion that the Regent had been waiting for the departure of the visitors, whom he had accompanied to Dover with great pomp and ceremony, before allowing the storm to break. He would not want to have his visitors laughing at his domestic troubles behind his back.

‘It’ll come now,’ said Mercer; and as usual, Mercer was right.

The Prince Regent commanded his daughter Charlotte to come to Carlton House in the company of Miss Knight.

Charlotte, pale and trembling, rose from her bed and immediately collapsed into the arms of Louisa Lewis.

‘It’s my knee, Louisa. I can’t stand.’

Mercer was called. ‘You must write at once to your father and tell him that you are too ill to go to him and beg him to come to you.’

The letter was sent and a day of anxiety followed. Charlotte got up and found that she could walk more easily.

It would be better to face him standing up than lying down.

At six o’clock in the evening the Regent arrived accompanied by the Bishop of Salisbury. He ignored everyone and strode into the drawing room. Then he cried in a voice of thunder: ‘Pray tell the Princess Charlotte that I command her presence here without delay.’

Cornelia, trembling, turned to Mercer who stood whitefaced though calm.

‘What can I
do
, Mercer?’ implored Charlotte.

‘There is only one thing you can do,’ said the intrepid Mercer. ‘Go down and see him. He commanded you to go in any case, and you must go quickly for his mood will not be improved by delays.’

‘Oh, Mercer …’

‘If you stand by your decision, he cannot force you. Remember that.’

Charlotte turned away and went into the drawing room.

He was standing by the fireplace, his back to it, his arms folded behind as though warming himself although there was no fire on that hot July day. The Bishop of Salisbury stood by, self-righteous, resigned, firm ally of his Regent, prepared to support him in whatever action he decided to take against his recalcitrant daughter.

Charlotte looked imploringly at her father, but his expression was cold and it was clear that at this moment he hated her.

He took first the familiar self-pitying role. ‘What have I done to be treated in this way?’ he demanded plaintively. ‘Have I deserved such an ungrateful child?’

The Bishop gave a sympathetic little cough but Charlotte wanted to shout: Yes, you have. You have never loved me as I wanted to be loved … as I needed to be loved. If you had, everything would have been different.

But she was silent.

He went on pitying himself for a few moments and then his anger flared up. ‘You have broken off this marriage … without consulting
me. You
have decided that a match, to which I and
my ministers have given much thought, much consideration … and all for
your
good, your personal benefit … is to be broken off in this churlish fashion. I do not understand how a daughter of mine can behave in such a way.’

And on and on. She was not listening to the words; she was watching the expressions fleeting across his face. He is acting, she thought; he always acts. He does not know it but he has been acting all his life. He is listening to his own voice now, admiring it. In a moment he will weep. He will be Lear weeping for a daughter’s ingratitude. If only one could explain to him. But how could one? He never saw anyone clearly. He only saw the Prince Regent as he wished to see him and people were good or bad according to their behaviour towards him.

If she remembered this she could be defiant. She could tell herself that she no longer cared for his esteem, that she hated him.

I have my mother, she thought. She loves me. And the thought sustained her.

‘You and your household have consistently gone against my wishes,’ he was saying. ‘I am going to put a stop to that. Your household here is to be dismissed and you are to leave Warwick House.’

‘W … when?’ she stammered.

‘This very night. You will come tonight to Carlton House and stay there until you move to Cranbourne Lodge.’

‘C … Cranbourne Lodge!’

‘Pray do not repeat me in that stuttering fashion. It offends me. I have a new household for you and you will shortly be introduced to them. They will serve you at Cranbourne Lodge.’

Cranbourne Lodge, she thought. In Windsor Park. She would leave London. The Queen and the Old Girls would be at Windsor and she would have to be constantly in their company. And Cornelia … was Cornelia dismissed? How then was she going to keep up her correspondence with F?

‘I must ask you …’

‘You must ask nothing. You must merely obey. Very shortly your new household will be arriving here to meet you. In the meantime go and tell your women that you are leaving Warwick House for Carlton House tonight – and tell Miss Knight to come to me here.’

She stumbled out of the room.

She found Cornelia alone in her room in a state of great apprehension.

‘It is terrible,’ she cried. ‘There is to be a new household. You are to go at him at once.’

‘Miss Knight.’ The Regent looked at her with such coldness that she began to shiver.

‘Your Highness.’

‘I am sorry, Miss Knight, to put you to inconvenience, but I’m afraid I must ask you to leave Warwick House without delay.’

‘Tonight, Your Highness?’

‘Tonight. Your room will be needed for one of the ladies of the Princess’s new household. I must inform you that the Princess Charlotte is leaving tonight for Carlton House where she will spend a few days before travelling down to Cranbourne Lodge in Windsor Park with her new household.’

‘New household, Sir, but …’

‘With her new household,’ repeated the Prince, painfully surprised that Miss Knight should interrupt him. ‘I think it will be better for all concerned if the Princess is not allowed so much freedom. The Queen will be at Windsor and for a time I wish her to be the only visitor whom Charlotte will receive. The Countess of Ilchester will be at the head of the new household and she will be assisted by Lady Rosslyn and Mrs Campbell. Now, Miss Knight, I repeat I am distressed to have to put a lady to inconvenience but I shall need your room and no doubt you will have a few preparations to make before you leave Warwick House this evening.’

‘Sir,’ cried Miss Knight, ‘I beg of you tell me in what way I have failed?’

‘I am making no complaints, Miss Knight,’ he replied, ‘but I wish to make changes in my daughter’s household. You will agree that if I so wish it is a matter for me to decide without explanations. I should blame myself if I allowed the situation now existing at Warwick House to continue. Now I think there is no more to be said. If you have nowhere to go tonight, you may have a room at Carlton House.’

‘I fear, sir,’ said Miss Knight, ‘that that might put you to some inconvenience. My father served His Majesty the King
for thirty years; he lost a fortune in that service and his health suffered considerably. It would be extraordinary if I could not put myself to a little inconvenience for the sake of my Sovereign.’

‘Very well, Miss Knight. You may leave us now.’

She curtsied and left the room.

This is the end, she thought. I have lost Charlotte now.

She would go to her; she would summon Mercer; they would discuss this and make some plan before she left Warwick House.

She ran to Charlotte’s room.

‘Where is the Princess?’ she demanded of a whitefaced, scared Louisa.

‘I don’t know. I saw her rushing out of the room like a mad thing. She put on a bonnet and shawl and sped past me.’

‘She can’t have left Warwick House.’ Cornelia felt as though her knees would not support her. ‘Where is Miss Elphinstone? Pray ask her to come to me at once.’

Mercer arrived. ‘What has happened? Is Charlotte still with her father?’

‘No, and we don’t know where she is. She put on a bonnet and shawl and ran out. She can’t have gone into the streets.’

‘I think I know where she has gone,’ said Mercer. ‘She has mentioned it often. She has been saying for the last few days that if her father were unkind to her or tried to force her to anything, she would go to her mother.’

‘She wouldn’t!’

‘In her present mood she would do anything.’

Mercer ran down the stairs summoning the servants. Had any of them seen the Princess?

They had seen someone in a bonnet and shawl running out of the house, someone who looked like the Princess Charlotte but clearly could not be.

And where did she go? Out of the house, into the streets!

‘Someone,’ said Mercer, ‘will have to tell the Regent.’

The Regent was talking to the Bishop when Mercer, with Cornelia, begged leave to enter. It was graciously given.

‘Your Highness,’ said Mercer, ‘I fear the Princess has left the house.’

‘Left?’ said the Regent. ‘Where can she have gone?’

‘I fear to her mother, Sir.’

The Regent smiled. ‘Then, of course, the world will know the type of person she is. No one will marry her now. She has ruined her reputation.’

There were tears in Mercer’s eyes. ‘I trust Your Highness does not blame me for this.’

His manners would not allow him to be unmoved by a lady’s tears so he said gently: ‘I am making no complaints, as I told Miss Knight. I have merely decided to act.’

The Bishop said: ‘Is it Your Highness’s wish that I and Miss Elphinstone should follow the Princess?’

‘It might be a wise thing to do.’

‘Perhaps Miss Knight would accompany us,’ suggested Mercer.

Miss Knight, fearing that she was at any moment going to disgrace herself by bursting into tears, could only think of placating the Regent. ‘I could not bear to enter that house.’ she said with a shudder.

The Prince Regent was looking a trifle bored. He said: ‘You must do what you will. I am due at a card party at the Duke of York’s.’

With that he left them. They stood bemused, listening to the sound of his carriage wheels as they faded into silence.

When Charlotte snatched up her shawl and bonnet there was one thought in her mind: she must go to her mother. There she would find refuge. She would wait to consult no one … not even Mercer. She must delay not one second for if she did it might be too late. Only her mother could save her from … prison, for that was what it would be. Cranbourne Lodge would be far worse than anything that had happened before. She had defied her father and she was sure that he would never allow that to happen again, if he could help it. But her mother would protect her. She ought to have gone to her long before.