Perdita's Prince: (Georgian Series) (27 page)

Very shortly afterwards she was delivered of a son.

*

The baby was christened Alfred by the Archbishop of Canterbury and his sponsors were the Prince of Wales, Prince Frederick and their sister Charlotte, the Princess Royal.

This caused some comment in ecclesiastical circles and the Bishop of Salisbury came to see the King on account of it.

‘Your Majesty,’ he said, ‘the ceremony of the baptism of Prince Alfred has given grave cause for alarm throughout the Church.’

‘What’s that?’ asked the King.

‘Sir, the sponsors of an infant take on a solemn responsibility.’

‘I am well aware of that, my lord Bishop.’

‘And this has been undertaken by people who are scarcely of an age to recognize this. The Prince of Wales himself is but eighteen years of age. His brother and sister younger. I would like Your
Majesty to consider authorizing another baptism. Your Majesty could then select persons of a more responsible age.’

The King prided himself on his reasonableness.

‘I understand, my lord Bishop, your point of view. But by the time Prince Alfred is of an age to need the guidance of his sponsors, they themselves will have reached an age to give it.’

‘Sir, I believe you should reconsider this matter.’

‘Thank you, my lord. I believe I have considered it and answered your fears. You have understood, eh, what?’

No one would have dared argue with George I or George II. It was different with George III; although once he had made a decision he could rarely be shifted from it, he was always ready to treat anyone who doubted his wisdom with courtesy.

‘The Prince of Wales,’ he explained, ‘in view of his peculiar position as heir to the throne, is not to be judged by ordinary standards. When in due course he is King of this country he will be the best possible guardian for a brother who is eighteen years his junior. Thank you, my lord Bishop, for raising this point. Now it is explained, eh, what? And you have business to attend to … and so have I.’

With that the Bishop had to be content.

But when the Prince heard an account of the Bishop’s criticism he was annoyed.

‘This is what happens,’ he said. ‘It is because I am treated like a child that people regard me as a child. I, the Prince of Wales, am not considered worthy to be my young brother’s sponsor.’

He could not forget the insult to his dignity; and some days after he had heard of the incident, coming face to face with the Bishop of Salisbury, he stopped him and demanded in a voice which could be heard by all around: ‘Have you heard the news, my lord Bishop?’

‘What news, may it please Your Highness?’ replied the Bishop.

‘My father,’ the Prince told him, ‘has sent to the sponsors of the Bishop of Salisbury to know how they could so egregiously have neglected their duty, as not to have taught their god-child to hold his tongue when it becomes him.’

The Bishop was too disconcerted to reply and the Prince swept on haughtily.

Soon everyone was discussing – and laughing at – the incident.

The Prince of Wales was indeed feeling his independence.

*

The Prince was biding his time until he could move into his new apartments in Buckingham House. So were others. Meanwhile he had to brace himself for the parting with Frederick and not spend too much time in Cork Street because, until he was free of the Dower Lodge, he was so close to his parents at Kew that his actions would not pass unnoticed by them; it would be different once he was in his own apartments.

After Christmas the time had come for the brothers to say goodbye.

The whole family assembled; the King wept openly and kept murmuring rather incoherent instructions to Frederick as to how he should behave.

The Prince of Wales felt numb. He was surprised that he could shed no tears for never had he felt such sadness.

So close was the bond between them that Frederick understood; in fact he himself felt similarly and could shed no tears.

The brothers gripped each other’s hands and stared wordlessly at each other. There was in any case no need of words.

Then Frederick left for Germany and the Prince of Wales moved to Buckingham House. Only a round of gaiety could help him to overcome his desolation at the loss of his brother.

*

Riding in the Park he met his uncle, the Duke of Cumberland. As on another occasion Cumberland called to his coachman to stop, alighted and kissed the hand of his nephew.

‘Well met, Your Highness. This is a wonderful moment for me. And now you are indeed a man!’

‘I am glad to see you, Uncle.’

‘By God, what a fine coat that is you are wearing. I like the frogging.’

‘I had it made to my orders.’

‘Have I your Highness’s permission to copy it?’

‘As it is in the family … yes.’

‘Your Highness, my wife, the Duchess, was speaking of you but yesterday. She had had a glimpse of you and I’ll not tell you
what she had to say of your charms. By God, I said, Come! come! You can’t expect me to compete with the youth of my handsome nephew.’

‘I did not see the Duchess or I should have had a word with her.’

‘I’ll tell her that. By God, it will make the day for her.’

‘Pray do,’ said the Prince.

‘Your Highness’s kindness makes me very bold. Dare I? I wonder.’

‘You have a reputation for daring, Uncle.’

‘So I have. Well, I shall live up to that reputation and say this: If Your Highness should ever see fit to honour us at Cumberland House … if by your great good sense … which I see exceeds that of some others … but my tongue runs away with me … If Your Highness should ever be in Pall Mall and have the fancy to be treated like a king, well, nephew, you would make a certain duke and duchess the happiest people in the world.’

‘But of course I shall come,’ said the Prince. ‘If I had had my will I should long since have put an end to these stupid family quarrels.’

‘Your Highness! You will indeed!’

‘I will. Tell the Duchess that I am curious to discover if she is as beautiful as rumour paints her.’

‘She will be overcome with joy.’

The Prince was delighted. After that old fool the Bishop of Salisbury this was the sort of thing he liked to hear.

‘And so,’ he said gallantly, ‘shall I be to meet her.’

‘May I tell her this, Your Highness?’

‘Pray do.’

‘And when …’

‘I will call on her this evening … if that would please her.’

‘Please her. She will swoon at the thought.’

‘I would not wish to put her to any discomfort.’

‘She would swoon with
joy
, Your Highness. I will return to her at once. This is the happiest day since our wedding day. I know she will agree with me. I will tell her of the great honour which awaits her.’

Cumberland returned to his coach and the Prince rode on.

Cumberland House! The forbidden territory. What would his father say if he knew he had accepted an invitation to visit it?

He broke into a gallop. To hell with his father’s rules and regulations!

*

It was with a feeling of great excitement that the Prince set out for the home of his uncle. The King and Queen were enjoying a period of domesticity at Kew and were well out of the way. No one could stop him now. If he wanted to visit his uncle he would.

Stepping into Cumberland House was like stepping over the threshold of a new life. All were waiting for him; there was no doubt that he was the most important man in the country.

The Duke was on the threshold to receive him; he bowed formally and then with tears in his eyes embraced him. And there was his Duchess waiting to give a profound curtsey to lift the most famous eyes in England to his face in a look of such adoration that his heart was immediately touched and had he not already been deeply in love with Perdita he would have fallen in love with his newly discovered aunt without fail.

She was tall and slender – like a flower, he thought; her hair was thick and gold coloured and she wore it unpowdered, dressed very high on her head with little curls and tendrils escaping here and there; her face was small, fairylike, almost fragile; she looked angelic but for her eyes which brimmed over with mischief; they were huge and green at the moment because she was wearing a green dress and emeralds sparkling about her person; and fringing them were the magnificent eyelashes – black as night, sweeping her delicately coloured cheek at one moment, lifted up like black feathery fans the next.

The Prince said: ‘They are indeed the most fantastic eyelashes in the world.’

‘I trust they please Your Highness,’ she said. ‘If they do not they shall be cut off this instant.’

‘Pray do no such thing. I could not be responsible for destroying one of the wonders of the world.’

‘How gracious, how charming of Your Highness! And how happy you make me. But we are being selfish. Some of our guests are aware of the great honour that awaits them … but not all. We
have kept our little secrets … and we trust in doing so we have not incurred Your Highness’s displeasure, because from now on it shall be
my
pleasure to maintain yours.’

What delightful company! How free and easy! And to think he had been deprived of it all these years. He thought of Kew. Backgammon! Lectures! The only dissipation – chamber music in the family circle.

Oh, life was going to be different from now on!

His bewitching aunt – and he was overcome with amusement to consider her as such – begged for the honour of slipping her arm through his (‘for I am your aunt, you know’) and conducted him to her guests. And willingly he offered his arm and happily he talked to her, for to tell the truth he was completely fascinated by those eyelashes.

And so, the Duchess on his arm, the Duke on the other side of him, he was led to the company.

This was, of course, how it would be from now on. People – interesting, important and amusing people – would be jostling each other to have a word with him. Beautiful women swept deep curtsies as he passed and lifted their eyes admiringly to him; men bowed low.

It was a glittering assembly at Cumberland House. All the most famous Whigs had been gathered together for the occasion and they all wished to be presented to him.

There was Mr Fox and Mr Burke and Mr Sheridan, and their lighthearted, witty conversation had an immense appeal for him.

And then the surprise of the evening.

The Duchess said: ‘There is a lady to whom I feel sure Your Highness would like to be presented. Have I your permission?’

It was granted at once – and the Duchess took him to an alcove and there to his great joy and gratification was Perdita herself.

He took her hand; he kissed it; and she lifted her eyes brimming over with love for him to his face.

‘This,’ he whispered, ‘is the most wonderful moment of our lives.’

It meant that they were at last together in public, that his uncle Cumberland accepted Perdita. Never again need they meet in secret.

This was indeed independence!

What an evening that was! For the first time since Frederick had gone he ceased to miss him.

He was astonished at the company – the free and easy manners, the talk which could be bawdy and at the same time witty and brilliant. Politics were discussed; so was art and literature. Everyone listened respectfully when he spoke but he had no need to feel ashamed of ignorance, for if he were not as yet fully versed in politics he could compete successfully in discussions on art and literature. There was dancing and gambling. The stakes were high but that seemed to him right in such distinguished company. He played at Faro and watched Loo and Macao; the men who most fascinated him were Fox and the playwright Sheridan. They were the sort of men he would have liked to have had for his tutors. Well, now he might have them for his friends. Might have them? He would if he wished. This night had taught him that what he asked would be readily given, and he was intoxicated with the joy of being the Prince of Wales.

He would come again and again to Cumberland House. There would, said the fascinating Duchess, always be a welcome for her handsome nephew at any hour of the day or night – and for Perdita.

She fluttered her lashes at Perdita who was perhaps a little jealous. She need not have been. He was her faithful lover; but he had to admit that his aunt was a damned attractive woman.

He would, he declared, come again and often.

Cumberland House, he was told, was his home whenever he cared to make it so.

And when he left with Perdita the Duke and Duchess savoured their victory; because it was now quite clear that it was the Cumberlands who were going to launch the Prince of Wales.

The Prince and Perdita went back to Cork Street. He was flushed not only with triumph for he had drunk more than usual.

Perdita had drunk very little and was sober in both senses.

‘What an evening! By God, what a house! I declare ours looks like a cottage in comparison.’

He looked round it disparagingly.

‘I would rather be happy in a cottage than unhappy in the finest mansion.’

The Prince laughed: ‘Well, so would everyone else.’

She stood there, arms folded across her breasts, very pretty but too dramatic, and the Prince was in no mood for histrionics. He had caught the mood of the people he had been with and they would have been very quick to ridicule sentiment – particularly if it were false.

‘Come here and stop acting, Perdita. You are not on the stage now. Come and be my turtle dove.’

She came and sat beside him – all grace and willowy draperies.

He kissed her with passion, but his thoughts were still with the company.

‘Fox is one of the best talkers I ever heard,’ he said. ‘And Sheridan’s another. By God, they are men I would be happy to call my friends.’

She shivered. ‘You promised me once that you would not use bad language.’

‘Did I, by God.’ He laughed aloud. ‘What did you think of Fox?’

‘I thought his linen was … unclean.’

The Prince laughed again. ‘You met the most brilliant man in London and the first thing you have to say about him is that his linen is unclean.’