Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series) (44 page)

‘Save such warnings for yourself. You need them more than I do. And if you ever say such a thing to me I’ll never speak to you again.’

‘Well wait until I’ve brought him to you otherwise you won’t be able to tell me where I’m most likely to find him.’

‘In the Prince’s apartments. Go now, Sophie.’

Sophie was goodhearted and always ready for intrigue; she sped off and it was not long before John Campbell was with Mary.

‘Sophie Howe said you wanted me… urgently,’ he said as they embraced fondly.

‘Always,’ she answered.

‘And you know it is the same with me.’

She nodded. ‘But I’m afraid.’

When she recounted what had happened in Henrietta’s apartment, John was grave.

‘He’ll not be prepared to give you up, I know it.’

‘He’ll have to. But he may make trouble. If he attempts to I shall run away from court.’

‘If we were married…’

‘Oh John, is it possible?’

‘It would be in secret. Mary, would you?’

‘Yes, John. I would.’

‘Then if he approached you again, you could tell the Princess.’

‘Do you think it wise, John?’

He laughed softly. ‘I’ve been trying to think of an excuse for a long time. This is it. Remember the Churchills. They married in secret. Why shouldn’t we?’

‘No one must know.’

‘No one shall know.’

‘Sophie may guess.’

‘Not she. She’s about to embark on a new flirtation.’

‘How do you know?’

‘When she came to find me I was with Nunty Lowther.’

‘I don’t know him.’

‘Lord Lonsdale’s young brother. They’re rather taken with each other. I fancy that for a while Sophie’s going to be too preoccupied with her own affairs to think about us.’

The Prince of Wales left his mistress’s apartments at precisely the same time as he always did and made his way to the royal quarters.

Henrietta was a good mistress. He would never desert her.

Meanwhile Mary and John Campbell had made their plans for their wedding, which was to be kept a deadly secret.

Caroline, playing cards in the reception room which she had changed into a state apartment at Leicester House, was a little uneasy. She had just heard the latest story about Mary Bellenden and the guineas. The girl had been subdued lately and she guessed it was true. How she wished that George Augustus had a little more
sense
.

She was pregnant again. She thought often that her life was becoming a little like that of Queen Anne who had conceived regularly each year and as regularly lost the child she bore almost as soon as it made its appearance, with the exception of the little Duke of Gloucester who had not survived his boyhood. No, she was different from that. At least she had her dear Fritzchen and her girls. But somehow in the last years everything had seemed to go wrong and she had now begun to think
she would never again bear a healthy child.

She was afraid that again she would fail, that the King would never treat them properly and would live for years; meanwhile the conduct of the Prince made people titter at court and whisper behind their backs while the more fearless scribblers of the coffee houses made lampoons about him.

This was a passing phase, she assured herself… a momentary depression. It was due to the fact that she longed for her children. If she could have them, she would be ready to face anything, and the cruelty of the King and the humiliating follies of the Prince would mean nothing to her.

She looked about the room, at the card players intent on their game; at handsome Lord Hervey talking to a group of her women; she caught sight of Molly Lepel’s lovely face, and Margaret Meadows was looking a little prim – no doubt shocked by something the brilliantly wicked Lord Hervey was saying. Henrietta Howard was in a party playing cards with the Prince. If only, thought Caroline, he would be content with Henrietta! She could trust that woman who never gave herself the slightest airs and was always so discreet. In fact her discretion had made much less of the guineas incident than might have been the case.

There was a temporary lull in the music and from a group of young men and women surrounding her came a burst of laughter.

Young Lord Stanhope was being witty as usual, she supposed. She did not greatly care for the little man, who was almost a dwarf and so odd-looking with his large head that seemed as though it would overbalance his body; he had a high falsetto voice which was as unattractive as the rest of him. But his tongue was poisonous.

‘Vot is the joke?’ asked Caroline.

‘We were speaking of Madam Kielmansegge, Your Highness,’ he told her.

‘It was so amusing?’

‘It is enough to look at that lady to be amused,’ replied Stanhope.

‘Perhaps, my lord, you are more easily amused than most of us.’

‘Evidently not more than His Majesty who finds her so diverting.’

It was the custom here to speak as slightingly as possible of the King and his affairs and Caroline always encouraged such talk for she believed there were few weapons as effective as ridicule.

Stanhope went on: ‘The standard of His Majesty’s taste as exemplified in this mistress, makes all ladies who aspire to his favour and who are near the suitable age, strain and swell themselves, like the frogs in the fable, to rival the bulk and dignity of the ox. Some succeed. Others burst.’

There was a shout of laughter led by Sophie Howe, either because she was so amused or because she was just enjoying the company of Anthony Lowther with whom she was exchanging affectionate glances. The others joined in and Caroline allowed herself to smile.

‘At least,’ she said, ‘from her complexion she looks young – not more than eighteen or twenty.’

‘Oh yes, Madam,’ retorted Stanhope. ‘Eighteen or twenty stone’.

Again the burst of laughter and eyes were turned their way. It was always thus with Stanhope. Caroline looked across the room to handsome young Lord Hervey who was equally clever; and how much more attractive!

Still, it was a successful evening and typical of many. She was hoping Robert Walpole and his brother-in-law Townsend would look in. They came occasionally and she always welcomed them; she knew of course that they were feeling their way. If they would come out openly against the King and for the Prince and Princess that would be a great step forward. With such men as her political friends and Gay, Pope, Newton to represent art and science she could make a brilliant court worthy to compare with any which had gone before; and in such a court she would build the foundations of her power.

She looked across at the Prince. Life was full of consolations. If she did not have a stupid husband could she have won the respect which she was fast winning? Could she have been the leader of the rival court which all, except the Prince, knew she was?

She must not be impatient. She must not take those
miscarriages too much to heart. The day would come when she would have her children back; when everything that she longed for would be hers.

In the meantime there was the waiting.

The Prince rose abruptly from the card table. He looked at his watch. The game was over; he would go to his apartments to prepare for his visit to Henrietta. Since Mary Bellenden had made it clear that she was determined to reject his advances he visited Henrietta every evening. His preciseness was becoming something of a joke.

‘The Prince,’ said the jokers, ‘does everything to time: eating, drinking, walking and making love.’ This was giving the opportunity for much ribaldry and Caroline feared ridicule.

If only he would not do this… or that…

It was becoming a constant thought with her; yet she never dared show one hint of criticism.

The Prince retired and she with him. He would be ready fully ten minutes before nine o’clock and would pace the apartment, his watch in hand, watching the seconds go back, so that he might enter his mistress’s apartment exactly on the point of nine.

Caroline shrugged her shoulders. There was nothing she could do. Only young girls and fools complained about their husband’s mistresses. The Electress Sophia had taught her that.

Her women helped her undress; she was determined to be careful and bring this pregnancy to a satisfactory climax. Therefore she must guard her health and not allow herself to be distressed or even ruffled by anything the King – or the Prince – might do.

One of her women was hovering; clearly she wished to say something in secret.

Caroline dismissed the others and asked her to remain. She had scarcely noticed her before but now she saw that she was very pretty.

‘Veil?’ said Caroline. ‘Vat is it you have to say?’

‘Your Highness, I have been thinking about whether I should tell you… but I feel it is my duty to do so…’

Caroline was alert. ‘Yes, vat is it?’

‘The Prince…’

‘The Prince!’

‘Yes, Madam. The Prince has made certain suggestions to me… suggestions which alarm me. I have been brought up to be virtuous and… Well, I thought Your Highness should know.’

‘That is enough,’ said Caroline. ‘You may go now.’

‘Your Highness, if I have offended…’

‘You may go,’ said Caroline coolly.

She sat for a long time looking into her mirror. So this was what she would have to endure! She had detected a certain complacence about the girl – an injured virtue. Mary Bellenden was not going to be the only one who had had the honour of rejecting the Prince.

A clever woman accepted her husband’s mistresses, of course. But there might be occasions when she did not have to do so.

She lay on her bed; she was very tired; and the most important thing at the moment was to keep the child she carried.

‘Henrietta,’ said Caroline the next day when they were alone together. ‘One of the new women said something to me which I found rather distasteful.’

Henrietta looked alarmed.

‘I don’t know her name. The new one.’

‘I know to whom Your Highness refers. Perhaps she is a little new to court ways…’

‘She made a suggestion about the Prince.’

‘The Prince, Madam?’

‘She hinted that he was making advances which were repugnant to her virtue.’

‘These girls have strange fancies.’

‘So I thought. They twitter. They gossip. I do not think she is exactly suitable.’

‘No, Madam.’

‘So I will leave her to you, Henrietta.’

‘Your Highness may safely do so.’

That day the new lady-in-waiting left Leicester House, and her going was scarcely noticed; so discreetly was it managed by Mrs Howard, that even the Prince was unaware of it.

With the coming of summer Caroline felt that it would be
unwise to stay at Leicester House. In view of her condition she needed the country air; and it was the custom of a court to retire to the country for the warm months. The King’s court was moving to Hampton.

‘I am thankful,’ said Caroline to the Prince, ‘that ve shall not have to be there this year. But vere can ve go?’

‘Ve must look about for a suitable place, my tear.’

‘On the river… but not Hampton,’ said the Princess. ‘I have always loved Richmond.’

‘Richmond,’ cried the Prince, his face pink with pleasure. ‘It is von beautiful spot. There is the Lodge.’

It was true. Caroline knew it slightly but she had been struck by its charm. For the last hundred years the old palace had been almost a ruin but the Lodge had been preserved and embellished and would make a delightful country house.

‘It is in the keeping of Grantham,’ said Caroline. ‘I am sure he vould be delighted for us to have it.’

‘Vy, it was Grantham who put his house in Albemarle Street at our disposal ven ve vere so callously turned out by that vicked old scoundrel. He vill be happy, I know, for us to take Richmond Lodge. He is von goot man.’

‘Ve must speak to him as soon as possible,’ said Caroline. ‘I vant to be in the country as soon as it can be arranged.’

‘Leave this to me, my tear. You shall be at Richmond in the next week or so.’

But it was not so easily arranged as they had thought it would be, for the King had his spies at the Prince’s court and it came to his ears that the Prince and Princess planned to spend their summers at Richmond Lodge.

This was by no means as grand as Hampton Court, but George had been irritated by the stories he had heard, of the rival court and he so hated his son and daughter-in-law that he determined to spoil their pleasure whenever he could.

He sent for the Earl of Grantham, who owned the Lodge, and told him that if he either lent or sold it to the Prince and Princess of Wales he would have to forfeit it.

Grantham was stunned and went at once to the Princess to tell her of the King’s order.

When she heard it Caroline almost lost her control.

‘Is it not enough,’ she cried, ‘that he takes my children from me? Does he have to stop us living vere ve vill?’

Grantham declared that he was as grieved as the Princess but he dared not disobey the King’s wishes. Indeed, of what use would it be, for as soon as he attempted to hand over the Lodge it would not be in his power to do so.

‘That man is an insensitive monster,’ declared Caroline.

There was nothing to do but look for a new country residence, but Caroline’s heart had been set on Richmond. Moreover, would the King prevent them going anywhere else they decided on?

Caroline was feeling the strains of pregnancy and this made her more resentful than usual; but when Sir Robert Walpole came to Leicester House she was excited and delighted to be able to have a few words with him, because she recognized in him one of the ablest statesmen of the day. He was very cautious; and she knew that she could not at this stage rely on his loyalty to her, but she did imagine that he was feeling his way with her as she was with him.

Friendship between Walpole and the Prince and Princess of Wales would disturb the King and his friends more than anything else; and for that reason alone she would welcome it. But Walpole made it clear that he was not concerned politically at the moment. He had resigned from the government when his brother-in-law was dismissed and had retired to his country house at Houghton in Norfolk where he had grand plans for rebuilding it. He now talked to Caroline of Houghton and how he intended to enlarge it and fill it with works of art which he loved.