Indiscretions of the Queen Page 4

  Oh, yes, Charlotte provided the right proportion. Nine boys there were and two boys dead makes seven, does it not? Seven husbands for seven Princesses.’

  ‘So Queen Charlotte was a benefactor to mankind after all,’ commented Caroline. ‘To royal mankind anyway. Just imagine all the princesses who would have had to go without husbands if she had not so zealously done her duty.’

  Caroline began to laugh; and the Duchess was always disconcerted— as everyone else was— by that too wild laughter.

  ‘It is something for you to remember,’ said the Duchess severely, ‘And now the second son is coming to see us— Frederick, Duke of York! I confess it is a long time since I was so excited.’

  ‘How much more excited you would have been, Mamma, if it had been the first son, the Prince of Wales?’

  ‘Well, my daughter, we cannot hope for miracles. The Prince of Wales would never be allowed to leave England. If ever it should come to pass—’

  ‘You mean if a miracle should come to pass, Mamma?’

  The Duchess looked sternly at her daughter. ‘When the Prince of Wales decides to marry, it will be the King’s envoy who conveys the news to his chosen bride’s family.’

  Again that demure look crossed Caroline’s features. ‘Well, Mamma, I will endeavour to be duly excited by the proposed visit— but not too excited because it is only Uncle George’s second son, and he is coming himself. Now if it were Uncle George’s envoy instead of his son, I should be capering with glee, should I not?’

  ‘Caroline, sometimes your talk is most improper!’

  ‘I own it.’ said Caroline. She wanted to add: It is a trait I have inherited from my dear Mamma. But that would be unwise. To let the Duchess know how indiscreet she was might put a curb on conversations such as this which could mean that Caroline might become far less knowledgeable about the scandals of Europe.

  The Duchess looked pleased. ‘Remember it,’ she said sternly. ‘And as soon as the Duke of York arrives you should greet him with charm and— propriety.’

  Caroline was thoughtful when she left the Duchess. A possible suitor? This was clearly what her parents and Madame de Hertzfeldt had in mind. Well, she would inspect the young man and if she did not like him she would not have him.

  Had not her father said that she would never be forced into marriage?

  Crossing the courtyard she paused to watch the soldiers on duty. How smart they looked in their uniforms. She was sure Cousin Frederick of York would not be half as handsome as the soldier who was now coming towards her.

  He saluted.

  ‘Good day,’ said Caroline in the familiar manner in which she spoke to everyone.

  ‘Good day, Your Highness.’

  ‘It is a good day.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Are you often on duty here, er— ” ‘I am Major von Töbingen at Your Highness’s Service.’

  ‘At my service, that is nice; and a little reckless Major von Töbingen, for what if I should ask a service of you?’

  ‘It would be the greatest pleasure of my life to render it.’

  What charm! thought Caroline. And he looked so earnest, as though he really meant it.

  ‘I shall remember that,’ she told him; and she walked on, but when she had gone a few paces she paused to look over her shoulder. He was looking after her.

  She laughed and ran into the palace.

  ‘Major von Töbingen,’ she said aloud. ‘A delightful man. I’ll swear he’s far more handsome than the Duke of York.’

  When the Duke arrived Caroline continued to think so. By that time she had had many conversations with Major von Töbingen. In fact she was beginning to make plans which included him. She thought what delightful children he would have that was if they grew up to look and behave as he did.

  The Duke of York was a tolerably good looking young man, a little arrogant.

  Were all the English arrogant? she wondered. He was light-hearted, gay and ready for a flirtation with his cousin Caroline, but she suspected that he might not wish it to go beyond that.

  She liked him moderately. Perhaps if she did not constantly compare him with Major von Töbingen she might have considered him as a husband, for after all if she were going to get her big family, as her mother said, she must not delay too long.

  When he found that she was not prepared to treat him as a potential lover, the Duke was philosophically resigned, one might say relieved. His cousin Caroline was not ill-looking; she was bright enough; but she did not appeal to him as a wife or mistress. He was longing to get back to England; he had been away a long time but when he thought of Englishwomen they seemed so much more desirable than any he had met on his travels.

  He had clear memory of Mrs. Robinson, the very handsome young actress with whom his brother, George, had been in love. What a goddess she had seemed! And he had left England before that affair had come to its conclusion.

  He often laughed to think of George in love, for when George fell in love, he did so wholeheartedly. He remembered how he had accompanied his brother out into the gardens at Kew to that spot where Essex— who was then Malden— had brought the beautiful actress, George’s Perdita. And there George and she had embraced under the trees while he kept watch on one side and Malden and Perdita’s lady’s maid on the other.

  What a creature Mrs. Robinson was! He had not seen anyone to touch her for beauty since he had left England. And the lady’s maid was a beauty too.

  He was longing to be back; and he hoped before very long he would be. Why should he be exiled from home just because the King thought that a Guelph should take his training in a German army? But one must be fair to the old man.

  There was fighting on the Continent and that gave him a chance to take part in a real battle. But oh, how he longed to go home and talk to his brother George and find out what he was doing now. For of one thing he could be sure, the Prince of Wales would be doing something exciting How much truth was there in this rumour that he had married a Mrs.

  Fitzherbert? If he had— by God, there would be trouble. But there always would be trouble around George. That was the one thing he could be sure of. Oh, indeed, what joy to be home, to share his brother’s adventures, to be on those old terms of intimacy. For George was his friend as no one else ever could be.

  Arid now here he was at the Court of Brunswick. Aunt Augusta was not in the least like her brother. In fact, Frederick was sure his father would heartily disapprove of his sister. He always had; but at the same time the King felt that his niece, the Princess Caroline, should be the wife of one of his sons.

  Not this one, thought Frederick. I should soon tire of Madame Caroline. And she would never make a docile wife. Still, it amused him to ride with her, talk with her, dance with her— in fact behave towards her as a very good cousin.

  She wanted to hear about England; and as they rode out with a party he would bring her horse close to his and talk to her.

  Did they ride much in England? she wanted to know.

  ‘All the time. I reckon we have some of the finest horses in the world.’

  Trust them, thought Caroline. They had the finest everything.

  ‘And your brothers and sisters, they enjoy riding.’

  ‘My brother, the Prince of Wales, is devoted to the exercise. Not only does he ride, but he drives his own phaeton and carriages. He is said to be one of the best horsemen in the country.’

  ‘People will pay royalty such compliments.’

  ‘What do you mean, cousin?’

  ‘That princes and princesses are always the best this and that. They only have to have one good feature and they are beautiful. Take me, for instance. I have been called the beautiful Princess of Brunswick. What do you think of that?’

  ‘That it is not untrue.’

  ‘Courtier!’ she laughed. ‘You don’t mean it! You think I am just tolerable as a cousin. Oh, do not think, Master York, that I am inviting flirtation. I am not. If I wished to flirt, there are many ready to oblige.’

  �
�I am sure of that.’

  ‘And I should not wish to bother my lord Duke, and even if he felt so disposed I might discourage him.’

  ‘How unkind!’

  She laughed aloud. ‘Very glib. And I have no more desire to marry you than you have to marry me. So set yourself at ease on that score.’

  ‘Marriage?’ gasped the Duke.

  ‘Let us be honest. Whenever the son of a king visits a princess the intention is always there. Your visit, sir, is in the nature of an inspection. I am not asking you to deny this. I am only putting your mind at rest.’

  She whipped up her horse and rode on; the Duke stared after her. What a strange creature! What did she mean? Was she coquettish? Was she chiding him for not making advances or warning him off lest he did? He attempted to follow her; then he saw her making for a tall soldier on horseback.

  She joined him; she threw a glance over her shoulder at the Duke. Nothing could have told him more clearly that she had no wish for him to join them.

  The Duke fell back and rode with the rest of the party.

  Life was conducted in a very strange manner at the Court of Brunswick, he thought, and the strangest part of it was the behaviour of the Princess Caroline.

  A messenger arrived from England with letters and a package for the Duke of York and to his astonishment, when he opened the packet, he found a necklace and earrings set with splendid diamonds.

  The Duke read the letter which accompanied them and which was signed by his father.

  The King thought that the Duke of York might wish to make a present to his cousin Caroline and for this purpose he had sent him the diamonds.

  The Duke looked at them speculatively for some minutes.

  He took out the necklace and examined the stones. To give them to Caroline would be tantamount to making her an offer of marriage. So that was clearly what the old man had in mind. It was quite out of the question. He had no desire to marry her. Moreover, he might well be refused and that would not please the King. Would she be allowed to refuse an offer from England? She had hinted in one or two of the conversations that her father had told her she should never be forced into marriage.

  He shook his head, put the necklace back into its case and carefully rewrapped the package.

  He sat down and thought of returning home and the kind of woman to whom he would present the necklace. He fancied she would be rather like Mrs.

  Robinson; and she would be English.

  The Duke of York had left the Court of Brunswick. Many shook their heads.

  Was Caroline going to reject all her hopes of marriage? What a strange girl she was! It seemed very likely that she would never marry at all.

  Caroline knew they whispered of her. ‘Let him go,’ she said to the Baroness de Bode. ‘He’s a pleasant enough young man but not for me.’

  The Baroness said: ‘He is the son of the King of England.’

  Caroline pouted. ‘The second son.’

  ‘Good Heavens, is Your Highness hoping for the Prince of Wales?’

  Caroline turned away with a laugh. Let them think so. Let them imagine her to be ambitious. She was ambitious— for a home with the man she loved and a large family of happy children.

  And she was in love.

  Under cover of dusk she slipped out to meet her Major. He was a little alarmed— for her, of course. He had declared frequently that he did not care what happened to him.

  ‘Silly man,’ she cried fondly. ‘My father understands me. He knows he could never force me into marriage. He will let me marry where I will.’

  Then if this was so why not disclose their plans to the Duke? That was what Caroline thought; but Major von Töbingen begged her to keep their secret a little longer.

  She gave way. But, she warned him, not for long. He was there waiting in the shadows— tall, mysterious in his long cloak.

  She threw herself into his arms and hugged him in the unrestrained manner which while it delighted him alarmed him too.

  ‘I have a present for you, my dearest,’ she said. ‘It’s a token.’

  She gave him the large amethyst pin which she had had made for him from one of her rings.

  ‘I shall expect you to wear it— always,’ she told him.

  She began to talk rapidly of the future. She would speak to her father and they would be married.

  ‘It will never be,’ he told her in despair. ‘They will never allow a princess to marry a mere soldier!’

  ‘A mere soldier! You— a mere soldier! There is nothing mere about you. I love you, do you hear. I love you. That means that my father will give his consent.’

  He whispered that they must speak quietly or they would be overheard.

  ‘Let them hear!’ Her voice rang out. ‘What does it matter? I want the whole Court to know. Why should they not? I have made up my mind.’

  She was exuberant and impatient. Marriage with her Major would be perfect bliss, she told him.

  ‘Children— do you want children? But of course you do. Dear little children.

  All our own. Every time, I go to the village to see my adopted ones I say to myself: They are lovely. I adore them. But soon I shall have little ones of my own. I cannot wait. Why should I? I am no longer a child. I must speak to my father— I must— I must— I will! ‘

  But he begged her to wait a little longer and because she loved him she agreed.

  Major von Töbingen was seen to wear a big amethyst pin. Sometimes his fingers would stray to it and linger there lovingly. The Princess Caroline constantly contrived to be where he was; and her eyes were seen to rest on the pin. It was her gift to him, was the general comment.

  It was impossible not to be aware of the Princess’s emotions. She had never been one to hide them at any time; and Caroline in love was at her most emotional row like the Princess to reject the Princes of Orange and Prussia and to show the Duke of York quite clearly that she had no wish to marry him— and then to fall besottedly in love with a major in the Army.

  The rumours grew fast. She was already with child, it was whispered. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. That other occasion was recalled when during a ball an accoucheur had to be called to the palace.

  A fresh scandal was about to break.

  Madame de Hertzfeldt consulted with the Duke and as a result one day not very long after she had presented him with the amethyst pin, Caroline went to their usual trysting place where she waited in vain for her Major.

  He had gone, and when she had demanded of his fellow officers where he was they could not tell her. He had been there one morning and by afternoon had disappeared. There was simply no trace of him.

  She had stamped her foot; she had raged. ‘Where? Where? Where?’ she had cried But they could not help her.

  One of them suggested that her father the Duke might be able to explain.

  She went to her father’s apartments, Madame de Hertzfeldt was with him, and they were expecting her.

  ‘My dear child—’ began her father and would have put his arms about her but she cried out― ‘Where is Major von Töbingen?’

  ‘Major von Töbingen’s duties have taken him away,’ said the Duke gently, ‘What duties? Where?’

  The Duke looked surprised. Even his dear daughter could not speak to him in that manner.

  ‘Suffice it that he is no longer with us.’

  ‘No longer with us! I tell you I shall not be satisfied with that. I want to know where he is. I want him brought back. I am going to marry him. Nothing— nothing— nothing— is going to stop me.’

  The Duke looked at Madame de Hertzfeldt who said gently: ‘Caroline, you must realize that a princess cannot marry without the approval of her family.’

  ‘I know nothing of other princesses. I only know what I myself will do. I will marry Major von Töbingen.’

  The Duke said: ‘No, my dear, you will not.’

  She turned on him. ‘You said that I should not be forced to marry against my will.’

  ‘I did;
and you shall not be. But I did not give you permission to marry without my consent.’

  ‘So you have sent him away.’

  ‘Caroline,’ said Madame de Hertzfeldt, ‘it was the only thing we could do.’

  ‘The only thing you could do. And who are you, Madam, to govern me? Be silent! If I have to listen to my father, I will not to you. I shall not stay here.’ She began to pace the room.

  She was like a tigress, thought Madame de Hertzfeldt. How peaceful we should be if she would marry and go away from the Court! The Duke was about to protest when Madame de Hertzfeldt signed to him not to do so on her account. She was sure that they must try to reason with Caroline gently. She was always afraid on occasions like this that Caroline’s delicately- poised mind would over-balance and she knew what great grief this would bring to the Duke.

  The Duke said: ‘You must have realized the unsuitability of such a match.’

  ‘It is suitable because we love each other. What more suitable? Would you have me make a marriage such as yours? Would you give me a mate whom I must despise as you do yours?’

  The Duke clenched his hands. She was shouting and he knew that her words would be overheard.

  ‘Don’t try to silence me. You have taken my lover from me. He is good and kind and handsome but that would not do. You would marry me to some ill- formed monstrosity just because he is a royal. That would be suitable— suitable — suitable―’

  Madame de Hertzfeldt had slipped out of the room. The Duke guessed that it was to take some action. In the meantime he tried to quiet his daughter.

  ‘Caroline, I will not have you shout in this manner. I will have you remember your place here. If I cared, I could arrange a marriage for you entirely of my choosing. Do not imagine that because I have so far been lenient with you, I shall continue to be so. So much depends on your own conduct.’

  That quieted her. It was true she was a little afraid of him. She did realize that she owed her free way of life to him‚ that she was not treated as so many princesses in her position would have been.

  ‘Papa,’ she said, ‘I love him!’