Goddess of the Green Room: (Georgian Series) (44 page)

The tour took them to Bath, Bristol, Chester, up to Liverpool and over to Ireland. It was exhausting and she was constantly thinking of Bushy and home and longing to be there. She was terrified that something would befall George and she had five
sons with whom to concern herself. Henry had started off in the Navy which had disappointed him and had begged to be transferred to the Army; and even little Molpuss was being sent to a nautical school to prepare him for his future.

She wanted them to stay young and be babies for ever.

In any case, she told herself, they are too young.

When she returned home it was to receive the news that Lucy was engaged to be married.

Pretty, charming and modest Lucy had been the most amiable of the three girls and had consequently been more welcome at Bushy House than the two elder ones. She could not remember the time before her mother had been the mistress of the Duke of Clarence and being nearer to the age of the FitzClarence children she had been more at home with them than Fanny and Dodee.

It was at Bushy House that she had met Colonel Hawker of the 14th Dragoons. He was fifty, married, with a daughter of Lucy’s age, but he had always been fond of her. As aide de camp to the King he was often in the company of the Prince of Wales and was a frequent visitor at Bushy. When his wife had become ill Lucy had comforted him and on Mrs Hawker’s death the Colonel asked Lucy to marry him which she consented to do.

Dorothy was not sure whether to be pleased or not. She liked Colonel Hawker; he was a man of good family, but he was so much older than Lucy. Still, Fanny’s marriage was far from successful and she had married a young man. Dodee, however, seemed happy and was expecting a child. As for Lucy and Colonel Hawker they had made up their minds and Lucy seemed contented.

So that April Lucy was married to her Colonel in the parish church at Hampton and Henry and Sophia with their mother were witnesses to the ceremony.

The three girls were now settled, but once more there was the tiresome problem of the dowry with its resultant scenes and humiliations.

Dodee’s daughter was born in May and Dorothy was delighted to become a grandmother; Dodee and Lucy were happy; it was only Fanny who was disgruntled. But then had she not always been?

Money was the predominant need, so she must undertake more tours. She was growing more easily exhausted and longed for the peace of Bushy.

I will retire definitely next year, she promised herself.

William was suffering from his periodic attacks of gout and asthma; he was very often at Windsor and St James’s because the King’s health was giving the family great cause for anxiety. The alarms over the fires had subsided but one of the Queen’s favourite themes was the need for reform throughout the family.

She took every opportunity of pointing out to William that he was living a most unsatisfactory life.

‘You are no longer a boy,’ she would tell him. ‘Mounting fifty!’

William protested at that. He was only forty-five.

‘There is not much time left for you to get a legitimate heir,’ the Queen warned him. ‘When I think that the only heir all my children have been able to give to the country is Charlotte I despair.’

‘Charlotte is a very lively heir,’ William reminded her.

‘The child is not as strong as I would wish.’ The Queen’s lips tightened. Charlotte was a wayward child who more than once had expressed her dislike for Grandmamma. Her famous remark which had been bandied about the court was, ‘There are two things in the world I dislike – apple pie and my Grandmother.’

‘Only this child… and a girl.’

William liked his niece, who had a somewhat difficult time because she was denied the company of her father and mother; her mother was often forbidden to see her and her father could never look at her without remembering that she was her mother’s child. He was sorry for her. She was a hoyden but bright, intelligent and an interesting child. She was rather fond of his own young Fred and was always glad when Fred paid visits. They went riding together and she would order Fred about, telling him that she was his future sovereign, which Fred seemed to enjoy.

He wondered what the Queen would say if she knew of Charlotte’s friendship with her cousin, the son of an actress.

‘I always hope,’ said the Queen, ‘that you will see reason one day… and it will have to be soon. I think you should consider this… very seriously.’

Dorothy had no idea of the Queen’s determination, for William never mentioned it to her.

She continued with her tours, going from one provincial city to another, earning money, trying to ease the financial situation; but she had no idea how deeply in debt William was.

It was a momentous year.

That November, the King’s best-loved daughter, the Princess Amelia, died. The King was overcome with grief, and this loss, with the fears and scandals of the last years, sent him tottering to insanity.

The King was mad, and incapable of ruling. The Prince of Wales became the Prince Regent.

‘For the last time’

WILLIAM WAS ON
his way to Carlton House where the Prince Regent was giving a fête. This was his first as Regent and although he could not say it was to celebrate his accession to the Regency, for to do so might seem that he was rejoicing in his father’s misfortune, that was in fact what it was.

Everything would be different now, William mused. The tiresome restrictions which the King had imposed on the court would be swept away. The court would be gay and carefree. That ridiculous Marriage Act would be annulled. George had always sworn that one of the first things he would do would be to abolish that, Their sisters would be allowed to marry, if they could find husbands. Poor things, it was a bit late. He was sure that George would see that they had allowances of their own which would give them some measure of independence from the Queen. What lives they had led! The men had been the fortunate ones, although the King would have liked to restrict even them.

And now the poor old man, who for years had been on the edge of madness, was a raving lunatic.

He would be well looked after so there was no need to waste sympathy on him. The fact was that George, his dear friend and brother, was now in all but name ruler of the realm.

The Queen had realized this and had decided to ally herself
with her eldest son this time – not work against him as she had before.

The Queen was wise.

Dorothy could not accompany him to the fête – it was a very different affair from the birthday party when the Prince had led her in to dine and sat at her right hand. This was an official occasion, and the Regent would have to be more careful than the Prince of Wales had been. Perhaps that was why he had broken with Mrs Fitzherbert, and Lady Hertford was the reigning mistress now. It was sad in a way when one considered what Mrs Fitzherbert had meant to George; their relationship had been like that of himself and Dorothy, but his and Dorothy’s had been on a firmer basis; all those years, all those children. Twenty years with one woman! It was as good as a marriage. But it was not a marriage. Royal princes could not marry actresses and there was only one legitimate heiress, the Princess Charlotte – the only one they had produced between them.

He was reasoning like the Queen.

Carlton House in all its splendour! No one could design a house like George! The Pavilion was different from any residence anyone had ever seen before and there wasn’t a house in Europe which was more magnificent than Carlton House – as there was no prince more courtly, more elegant, than the Regent.

He was proud of his brother.

Poor George, he
was
a little sad about Maria Fitzherbert, but their connection was severed and he was devoted to Lady Hertford.

George had explained to William. ‘I love Maria,’ he had said. ‘I always shall. It’s this damned religion of hers. If she hadn’t insisted on marriage… But the main point of contention is that she’s a Catholic. How could the Regent have it said that he was married to a Catholic? It would be enough to shake the throne. We have to consider that, William. All of us.’

Was he reminding William that like the rest of them he had his duty?

George was receiving his guests, magnificent as ever, the diamond star glittering on his coat. Then he led the way into the banqueting hall with its treasures, its works of art. The table was a work of art too, with a stream running down the centre in which gold and silver fishes swam.

It was during the banquet that William became aware of the beautiful young woman. She was exquisitely gowned, animated and in conversation with a young man who appeared to be paying court to her.

‘Who is the young lady?’ asked William of his neighbour.

‘Did not Your Highness know? She has caused quite a stir since she has come to court. She is Miss Catherine Tylney-Long, daughter of the late Sir James Tylney-Long.’

‘I’m not surprised that she causes a stir. She is very beautiful.’

‘Oh, it is not her beauty which causes a stir, Sir. It is her fortune. She is worth £40,000 a year.’

‘£40,000 a year!’ cried William. ‘She must be one of the richest young ladies in England.’

‘That is the general opinion, Your Highness.’

‘And who is that who is talking to her so earnestly?’

‘Wellesley-Pole, Your Highness. Lord Maryborough’s son.’

‘Is he related to the Duke of Wellington?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Interesting,’ said William; and he thought: £40,000 a year. And a beauty too. Young, lovely and rich.

When the banquet was over he asked that Miss Catherine Tylney-Long be presented to him. He found her even more charming than he had believed possible. Witty, amusing, not the least impressed by the interest of a Royal Highness, in fact very diverting.

He insisted on keeping her at his side, much to the chagrin of Wellesley-Pole, but the young lady seemed to enjoy this; and it was a gratifying experience.

He was very loath to leave her and when he said good-bye he had discovered what functions she would be attending and decided to making a point of being there.

He did not go to Bushy afterwards, but to his apartments in St James’s.

I have been leading a strange life for a royal prince during twenty years, he thought. I have forgotten what it is like to be in fashionable society. People noticed it and did not like it. A prince should live like a prince not like some bourgeois gentleman dominated by domestic concerns.

Everywhere he went there too was Catherine Tylney-Long. So beautiful, so enchanting and so… rich. He could not think of her without thinking of £40,000 a year, and what it would mean to him.

He realized that he was in love. He was in love with the beautiful face and figure of Miss Tylney-Long and her beautiful income.

When thoughts of Bushy crept into his mind he pushed them away. Twenty years was a long time to be faithful to one woman and princes had more temptations than most men.

He could not expect Miss Tylney-Long to be his mistress; her family would never agree to that, but doubtless if he offered marriage they would be overcome with delight. Their heiress would become a Duchess and no ordinary Duchess because it was just possible that if anything happened to Charlotte, one day Miss Tylney-Long would be Queen of England.

William remonstrated with himself. What am I thinking of? What should I tell Dorothy and the children? How could I possibly go down to Bushy and say: ‘I’m going to be married.’

And yet… he was a Prince and he had his duty. His mother was constantly instilling that into him. His duty… his duty… to marry a beautiful young girl and £40,000 a year!

Debts were mounting. He dared not think what he owed. If he married he would get a settlement and his debts would probably be paid by a government grant. They would be delighted, for everyone must be rather uneasy while there was only a young girl to follow her father. If Charlotte died without offspring what would happen to the House of Hanover?

It was his duty to marry… and to marry Miss Catherine Tylney-Long.

He went to Carlton House to see his brother.

George had changed since he became Regent. He was very much aware of his greater responsibilities, and less approachable. Matters of State occupied him a good deal. He was keeping the old government in power, much to the disappointment of his friends, and it was clear that he was going to act cautiously at first. He had made an impression among the artistic section of the public by letting it be known that he intended to support them as his father had so lamentably failed to do. He was serious,
aware of new responsibilities, but none the less ready to listen to William’s troubles, good brother that he was.

‘I am in a dilemma, George,’ said William. ‘It sounds incredible and foolish at my age. But I have fallen in love.’

‘It is never incredible or foolish to fall in love,’ said George.

‘Do you think that? I am relieved. She is young and very beautiful. Miss Catherine Tylney-Long.’

‘And rich,’ said the Regent.

‘I admit that that is no bar to marriage.’

‘So you want to marry her?’

‘There would be no other way of gaining her favours…’

‘Or her money,’ added the Prince. ‘Forgive me. There is so much talk of money about me that it is constantly in my mind. So you have fallen in love with this delightful girl and want to marry her. What of Dora and the children?’

‘That is what worries me. But I think Dorothy would see reason. She is very fond of me.’

‘Perhaps for that reason she would be reluctant to let you go.’

‘I have long been disturbed because I have failed to do my duty by the State. The Queen is constantly making it clear to me that I should marry. It would be my duty to make sure that Dorothy and the children were well taken care of and then…’

‘So you really want to marry Miss Tylney-Long?’

‘I am aware,’ said William, ‘that I should need your consent. But somehow I don’t think you would withhold it. You have always deplored the Marriage Act.’

‘If you wished to marry Miss Tylney-Long of course I should not withhold my consent.’