Текст книги "Queen in Waiting "
Автор книги: Jean Plaidy
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He laughed, but was serious suddenly. "And you, Henrietta, you vould not care to displease me?"
"I hope I never should. Your Highness."
"Henrietta," he said, "you are von good woman."
"I am glad Your Highness finds me so."
"I have enjoyed very much our ... friendship." He looked at his watch. "It is time we make love," he said.
After she had left Henrietta Howard's apartment Mary went to find her lover. As he was in the Prince's household this was not difficult, but she was anxious that no one should see them together for as one of the reigning beauties of the court she was also a favourite subject for the lampooners and she was watched closely. She was anxious that no one should discover that the man to whom she had betrothed herself was John Campbell and write a verse about it. She met Sophie Howe who seeing her flushed cheeks and that she came from Henri-
etta Howard's apartment wanted to know what she had been doing.
"I've just done a bold thing," she said.
Sophie laughed. "I'm always doing bold things. Don't tell me you've taken Henrietta Howard's place with His Highness."
"How dare you say such a thing! As if I ever would! "
"Of course not. There's dear John, I know."
"Don'i speak of it. If it got to his ears..."
"Who? His Royal Highness's? Oh he'd like as not be ready to give John a title and lands in exchange for his complaisance."
"Which John and I would not accept. Listen Sophie, there has just been such a scene. I knocked his guineas all over the floor."
"What! Did he offer those guineas again?"
"Yet again! And this time I was so angry ... besides I was there alone with him and Henrietta Howard and it seemed so horrible. So I told him to leave me alone because I was in love."
"Oh, Mary Bellenden!"
"And now I'm afraid, and I want to see John and you must go and tell him."
"And why don't you go?"
"Because I don't want anyone to see us together and make a noise about it so that it gets to his ears "
"I see."
"Please Sophie."
"Very well. I'll go and see if I can find him."
"And bring him here ... while we can talk in peace."
"And when I bring him would you like me to stay and chaperone you?"
"It won't be necessary."
"Guard your virtue, for what if you lost it? He might not be so eager to marry you if you do."
"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
M
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 Bel-lenden 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 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 dis-
cretion 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 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, whether because she was so amused or 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 to 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 Bellen-den 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. **1 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. More-
over, 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.
Caroline was very interested and they discussed painting of which she discovered Walpole to be a connoisseur.
**I envy you," said Caroline. "You have doubtless heard that the Prince and I planned to spend the summer at Richmond Lodge and this has been denied us."
"Most churlishly, Madam."
"And so it seems as though ve are doomed to spend the hot weather in this place."
"Surely not, Madam."
"Vere then should ve spend it?"
"Why not at Richmond Lodge?"
"But the King has this forbidden. He has threatened to confiscate it if Grantham sells it to us ... or even lends it."
"Has Your Highness considered whether it is in His Majesty's power to do this?"
"I do not you comprendre ..." said Caroline.
"This is a constitutional monarchy. Madam. I doubt very much whether the King has the power to forbid a man to sell or lend what is his."
M*
"You mean he may not?"
"I mean. Madam, that if I were so treated I should find out what my position was with regard to the law."
"And you. Sir Robert..."
He smiled at her wryly. "Oh, I am a man in retirement, Your Highness. I merely offer advice."
"Thank you. Sir Robert," said Caroline.
I was right, she thought, to cultivate this man. He is for us and against the King, but he is too shrewd, too wily at this time when we are in decline and all the power is the King's, to say so.
Not a loyal friend? But he had never said he was a friend. He was a shrewd politician seeking his own advantage. Well, that was how Caroline would prefer him to be. He was the kind of man she would have about them when the time came.
The King at Hampton was angry. In spite of his wishes the Prince and Princess were installed in Richmond Lodge. His objections had been overruled. He had no power to prevent Grantham letting them have the house. In a constitutional monarchy such as this the law must prevail against the King's pleasure.
Caroline was delighted. Not only was this a victory over the dour old King but they had this lovely house. The town of Richmond enchanted her; on either side of the river were meadows and here and there a charming country house. On one side of the house were the gardens which ran down to the river and on the other an avenue of trees which led to the little town, about half a mile distance.
It was near enough to London to make travel to and fro convenient and yet was in the country. It was true the roads were unsafe, but then so were all roads; and travellers should always endeavour to go back and forth by daylight.
Those first weeks at Richmond were delightful. So was everyone, including the country people who had heard the story and were amused because the Prince and Princess had outwitted the King and secured the house which he had tried to deny them.
There were cheers whenever any members of the Prince and
Princess's court sailed along the river. This river had now become gay with all the fashionable people who came to Richmond Lodge; and everyone who possessed a boat took it on to the river to hear the music from the Lodge which sounded very sweet and tuneful.
The Prince and the Princess were so much more gay than the King; and the people were on their side.
If I could have the children with me, now, thought Caroline, I would ask nothing more.
The day had been sultry and Caroline had felt so listless that she was in no mood for her usual walk.
This, she thought, is how one feels when one's time is not far off—particularly after two recent miscarriages.
Yesterday had been a trying day. During the evening Bridget Carteret had ridden in in a state of hysteria. The whole of the Lodge, including herself and the Prince had heard the girl screaming. Her coach had been stopped by highwaymen and all her jewels had been taken from her.
Bridget had had to be put to bed and comforted. The other girls had gathered in her room while she went over and over her adventure, remembering more and more terrifying moments and unnerving even the most practical of them.
They were now declaring that never never would they take the dangerous road between Richmond and London after dusk.
Caroline called to Henrietta. What a comfort that creature was!
Henrietta was cool, efficient, pleasant-looking but not disturbingly beautiful. Between us, thought Caroline, we know exactly how to manage George Augustus. If he will stop pestering my silly girls we can conduct our lives in a dignified manner.
"This Bridget Carteret affair, Henrietta," she said. "I suppose I must compensate her for her loss."
"There is no reason why Your Highness should, although, of course the girl would be delighted."
Yes, thought Caroline, poor Bridget would. And it gave her great pleasure to look after her women.
*'There is a necklace ... the one with the single diamond stone on a gold chain."
*'I know the one. Madam."
"Bring it to me ... and the gold watch you vill find there."
Henrietta brought them and put them into Caroline's hands.
"They would be very handsome compensation," said Henrietta.
"Veil, poor child she was very frightened."
"We shall have all of them seeking adventures with highwaymen."
"Oh I don't think so. They vouldn't risk their lives for the sake of a few trinkets which after all might not adequately replace vat they had lost."
"The fact that they are given by Your Highness enhances their value."
"You flatter, Henrietta. Send for the little Carteret and afterwards bring my shoes and clock. I vill go for a valk. I must make the most of the Richmond air."
"It is very overcast, Your Highness."
"I vill keep close to the Lodge."
Bridget Carteret was delighted with the gifts and gave Caroline a graphic description of her adventure. While she was doing so it had become almost as dark as night outside, and the first raindrops had begun to fall.
"This is going to be a bad storm, I fancy," said Caroline going to the window and at that moment a flash of lightning lit up the room. The immediate crack of thunder showed it to be right overhead.
"Your Highness should come away from the window," said Bridget. "I've heard ..."
Caroline turned to smile at her lady-in-waiting.
"It's only a passing storm," she said.
"In your condition. Madam..." began Henrietta; and at that moment a flash more vivid than the last made Caroline step back from the window; but just at that moment one of the elm trees came crashing down and there was a
sound of breaking glass mingling with the roar of thunder.
Caroline cried out in alarm, stepped back hastily and tripped.
She was aware of the branches of the tree coming through the broken window, of the scream of Bridget Carteret, and Henrietta bending over her before she lost consciousness.
She was lying in bed. The Prince was seated at her bedside, fussily attentive.
"Vot have happened?"
"You're all right, my tear. The doctors haf assured me "
He held her hand. "I haf been so anxious. You are tearer to me than my life. But it is all right. They have me told."
"The child...."
"There vill be children. You vill not be upset now. You vill soon be veil ... and that is my only concern."
So she had lost the child!
Was there some curse on her? The children she had were taken from her; and it seemed that fate had decided she was not to bear another.
In time the Princess recovered from her disappointment. There would be another child, for George Augustus was as regular in his attentions to her as he was to his mistress. I cannot go on being so unfortunate she told herself. And she must be grateful for her good health which helped her to recover from these disappointments more readily than most.
She fretted constantly for the children. She heard that Fritzchen was drinking too much, and was getting a taste for gambling; she heard too that he was not very strong. He was subject to fever; his back was weak so he was obliged to wear whalebone stays—not steel, which would have pressed uncomfortably on his nerves. He liad glandular trouble. His doctors ordered a diet of asses* milk. What was happening to Fritzchen? How unnatural that all these years should be allowed to pass and a mother not be permitted to see her son!
And the little girls? She heard that they had danced for
their grandfather at Hampton; that they were treated with respect by ambassadors—different from the way in which that unnatural man insisted his son and daughter-in-law should be treated! They did meet occasionally; but how difficult it was when George Augustus wps not allowed to visit Hampton and they were surrounded by spies. The girls were growing up and one could not expect them to be unaffected by the conflict in the family.
How different was this summer from that glorious one at
Hampton 1
In Hampton George tried to forget that he had a son and daughter-in-law! He regarded Frederick Lewis his grandson in Hanover as his heir; and although he had no tenderness for his grandchildren he liked to see them now and then to remind himself of their existence and the power he had to take them from their parents.
From time to time he heard how the Princess grieved for them and that gave him a grim pleasure. The woman had flouted him; she was far too clever, luring men to her court and winning the affection of the people. She should pay for that as anyone who offended him had to pay.
He had no intention of trying to make Hampton like Richmond. His Court would be as he liked it. Some might say it was dull but what did he care. His Duchesses of Kendal and Darlington—in other words Schulemburg and Kielmansegge– pleased him, particularly the former without whom he never liked to go far. Ermengarda was to him as a wife—a good placid wife who never stood in the way of anything he wanted. In his youth his hobbies had been war and women; now he was getting too old for war so it was merely women. But although he liked occasional variety he went back and back again to Ermengarda. She was a rich woman in her own right now, for since she had been to England she had developed an unsuspected talent for amassing money, but that made no difference to their relationship. She was still his placid Ermengarda, always ready to obey.
There was one thing he did enjoy in England and that was
the theatre.
He therefore had the great hall at Hampton fitted up as a
theatre and sent to Colley Gibber and his company to come down to entertain him.
Gibber played Henry VIII and other Shakespearian plays, of which the King was especially fond; Gibber provided German translations which the King read beforehand that he might follow the action on the stage and so delighted the King; and the King delighted Gibber.
This to the King was a pleasant existence: to see the play, with the Duchess of Kendal and Darlington on either side of him—the three of them had long formed a habit of going about together—and then to retire with one of them, or a fancy of the moment, to what he called a seasonable bedtime.
So passed the summer months.
To see the King going to Drury Lane was a sight which amused the people of London. His Sedan chair would be carried from St. James's Palace preceded by his beefeaters and guards. Immediately behind would be two other chairs, and if the people were lucky they would catch a glimpse of the red and black wigs above what they considered to be two of the most grotesquely ugly faces in the kingdom.
George cared nothing for the jeers of his subjects. Nor did his two mistresses, who in any case had grown accustomed to them.
And when he reached the theatre and was welcomed by the manager he would refuse the royal box and ask for one where he could not be so easily seen.
Then he would sit at the back of this, a Duchess on either side of him and prepare to enjoy the play.
One evening that autumn as his chair came out of the palace a young man leaped out of the crowd and ran towards the chair. If one of the guards had not seen him, he would have shot the King; as it was the bullet merely grazed the top of the chair.
The young man was seized and dragged away. The King went on to the theatre.
In the cart the young man was being taken to Tyburn. His name was James Shepherd and he was only eighteen years old.
He shouted to the crowd: ''There is only one true King of England. He is James III. Down with the German I "
"Down with the German!" echoed many in the crowd.
"He's young to die," said others. "The King should have shown mercy."
The Jacobites watched sullenly and said the King was a monster. His own wufe, the Queen of England, was languishing in prison; he had quarrelled with his son; his daughter-in-law was deprived of her children. They hadn't a King on the throne. They had a monster.
Some remembered that the Princess of Wales had pleaded for the boy. He was young, she said; he was doubtless led astray. Let him be punished in some slight way and cautioned.
But the King had ignored the pleas of the Princess of Wales, and James Shepherd was taken to Tyburn and the rope was placed about his neck.
Even the staunchest Hanoverians said as they watched that young body hanging there: "He is young to die."
The King was aware of the murmurs against him. It was not often that he cared about public opinion. It had always been his comment that if the English didn't want him here he would willingly go back to Hanover.
But he was angry that even out of such an incident as an attempt on his life and the—to him—perfectly just punishment of such an act, the Princess should squeeze a little popularity.
She was kind, they were saying now. She was humane. She had pleaded with the King to spare the life of the young man who had attempted to kill him. Of course she did I Doubtless she thought the fellow some sort of hero.
And the people admired her for it.
He was in this mood of resentment when Henry Howard, the husband of the Prince's mistress, who was one of the grooms of his bedchamber, caught his eyes and he summoned him to him.
