Authors: Bertrice Small
“Of course, Your Highness,” the Duke of Sedgwick said, rising. “Will you be hunting with us today, Brum-mell?”
“Brummell doesn't hunt,” Prinny chuckled. “Such raucous activity would disturb the perfect cut of his neckcloth, eh, Brummell?”
“Indeed, Your Highness, it would,” Brummell answered without rancor. “Not to mention getting mud all over my excellent boots. My man spends at least an hour a day on each of my boots. It would send him to Bedlam if I dirtied my boots before noon.”
“I have not asked after Princess Caroline's health, Your Highness,” the duke said politely as they left the dining room.
“Fat, breeding, and dirtier than ever,” Prinny said with a shudder. “If she whelps me a son she will have done her duty, and I can be done with her. I only married the bitch to get an increase in my allowance. The renovations for Carleton House have beggared me.”
“It is to be hoped then that Your Highness will get his wish,” the Duke of Sedgwick said. He found he was appalled by the prince's attitude towards his wife. Caroline Amelia Elizabeth, Princess of Brunswick, was her husband's cousin. She was ill educated, having been
raised in her parents' unsophisticated court. Her mother was the eldest sister of King George III. She was the worst possible choice for a wife for the future George IV, but her mother had prevailed upon her brother, and so the match was made.
Caroline was not stupid, but she was uncultured. She was clever and witty, but willful and filled with high spirits. Her sharp tongue could be cruel and thoughtless. She had grown up with a rather dull mother who knitted stockings and netted embroidery at her homey palace outside of Brunswick. Caroline's father lived happily apart from his wife and family in his capital with his mistress, Frau Hertzfeldt.
The princess had been brought up without religion so that she might adapt to whatever faith her husband espoused. She could barely read, wrote poorly, and had scant knowledge of the world outside of her mother's palace. She had no musical abilities, could not paint watercolors, and did not dance well at all. She disliked fashion and had no sense of either style or color. Everything about Caroline was diametrically opposed to her husband. Consequently they had nothing at all in common.
She was not a male heir and so virtually no attention had been paid to Caroline of Brunswick, yet attention was what she desperately sought. Her personal hygiene left much to be desired. She cared little for her appearance, and could not be guided by those who knew that how a princess presented herself to the world made a great deal of difference to those by whom she must be accepted.
Her eldest sister had been a Duchess of Württemberg and had disappeared under rather odd circumstances while in Russia with her husband. It was rumored she was unfaithful to her husband with the Grand Duke Paul. The Duke of Württemberg had returned home
with his children. The Russian tsarina, Catherine the Great, imprisoned the duchess in the castle of Lode on the Baltic. Two years later the news of her death was announced, although how she had died and when she had died was never revealed. And her younger sister, it would seem, also had an eye for the gentlemen. It was even possible she was not a virgin on her wedding night for there had been rumors of an affair.
Meeting his bride-to-be for the first time Prinny was horrified by the sloppily garbed girl whose body odor was quite discernible to his fastidious nostrils. “Harris, I am not well; pray get me a glass of brandy,” he cried to the Earl of Malmesbury, who had brought the princess to England. Then the prince left the room, not hearing Caroline say to the earl, “Mon Dieu! Is the prince always like that? I find him very fat, and nothing as handsome as his portrait.” Nonetheless the wedding took place three days later in the Chapel Royal in St. James Palace.
The Duke of Sedgwick had been there. He remembered how drunk Prinny had been, wandering about the chapel singing nursery songs to himself, having to be led back to the altar by his furious father. He managed to consummate his marriage, but then spent the rest of the night drunk, lying in the fireplace grate as his bride was happy to relate to any who would listen. From that one coupling, however, came the princess's current pregnancy, for Prinny never slept with her again. He would not even live with her, but went about his life as if his marriage had not occurred at all.
Quinton Hunter had married Allegra for her fortune. There had been no polite deception about it, but many couples wed for wealth and status. How a gentleman treated his wife, however, was a different matter altogether. Had he not fallen in love with Allegra, Quinton
Hunter would have still treated her with respect and courtesy. He pitied Prinny's wife. Even Henry VIII had come to a comfortable arrangement with Anne of Cleves. There was no excuse for such discourtesy, or unkindness.
“The horses are ready, Your Grace,” Crofts said, coming to his side. He gestured towards the open door.
“Excellent! Excellent!” the prince said with a smile. He turned to Brummell. “Find the library, Georgie. We'll be back in time for a hearty luncheon.”
Crofts nodded imperceptibly to his master.
Allegra ate a petit déjeuner in her own apartments. Then she dressed, preparing to meet her guests when they arrived. Downstairs Crofts informed her that the duke and the prince had gone out riding. Mr. Brummell was in the library, and luncheon would be served at one o'clock.
“Do we have enough supplies for the kitchens?” Allegra asked. “This prince eats enough for three men, I fear.”
“Cook gave the list to Perkins, and he departed for town early this morning, my lady. He should be back shortly with the cart.”
“Crofts, this house could not run without you,” Allegra complimented the elderly majordomo. “Thank you.”
“Shall I tell Mr. Brummell that you are up and about, your ladyship?”
“Not yet. I wish to write a letter to Aunt Mama before I must be entertaining. I shall be in the family drawing room.”
The duke and the prince returned home with several brace of rabbits to show for their morning's ride. Allegra was in the drawing room with Mr. Brummell when
they arrived. Brummell shuddered delicately at the sight of the rabbits hanging from a footman's hand, but the prince was delighted with his morning's venture. Luncheon was served, and the prince ate as if he hadn't eaten in a month's time. Allegra wondered how long he would remain their guest as she watched him consume a platter of salmon, a dozen lamb chops, a beefsteak, and a small chicken by himself. He then fell asleep in the drawing room, watched over by Mr. Brummell.
The guests began to arrive. Sirena and Ocky first. Allegra saw that her cousin looked worried as she alighted from her open carriage. While the duke and Ocky greeted each other, the cousins linked arms, and walked into the house.
“What has happened?” Sirena demanded.
“What on earth do you mean?” Allegra responded.
“You are married less than a week, and you give a house party with Prinny as your guest of honor! You said nothing of this several days ago when you were wed. Are you all right? Has the duke been cruel?”
“Ohh, dearest Sirena, what a worrywart you are,” Allegra laughed softly. “Everything is wonderful. Prinny, however, arrived the morning after the wedding expecting to come to the wedding. He was mightily disappointed that it was over and done with, and so I invited him to a hunting party. I claimed it was an annual event for Quinton and his three closest friends. That is why I hurriedly sent you and Ocky invitations. I couldn't allow Prinny to know it was all a Banbury tale so his feelings would not be injured.”
Sirena heaved a gusty sigh of relief. “Thank heavens! I was imagining all sorts of terrible things.”
“Why on earth would you?” Now Allegra was puzzled.
“Well, yours is a marriage of convenience, cousin. I was afraid that you and the duke had had a falling out,” Sirena admitted. “He is a very proud man.”
“I had noticed,” Allegra said mischievously, “but you may cease your worrying, darling. He claims to be in love with me, and I believe it to be so.”
“Thank heavens!” Sirena cried.
“But I am not yet positive of my feelings for him,” Allegra continued. “I am still not certain I understand this emotion called
love.
Until I do, I can make no admissions of my own. And, Sirena, darling, you must say nothing to anyone but Ocky.”
“Oh, Allegra, I am so happy for you!” Sirena's blue eyes were teary
“Why on earth are you happy for her?” The Countess of Aston and Lady Walworth entered the foyer.
“The duke is in love with Allegra!” Sirena exclaimed, and then she clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.
“She promised not to tell,” Allegra said dryly.
“Well, of course he's in love with her. You mean you didn't know, Allegra?” Eunice, Countess of Aston was surprised.
“I thought everyone knew he was in love with Allegra,” Lady Caroline Walworth said. “Gracious, he told both Bain and Dree; and Ocky was, of course, the first to know.”
“But I didn't know,”
Allegra said. “I thought my marriage was one of convenience. That is what I wanted. That is what I expected.”
“To be loved is far better,” Eunice remarked with a shy smile.
“Are you in love with him?”
Caroline demanded, very much to the point, and like her formidable aunt.
“I don't know,” Allegra admitted.
“A woman can't help but love a man who loves her. He's handsome and amusing. The love is sure to come,” Caroline said firmly. “Now, why on earth are we here but four days after your wedding? You and the duke should be off somewhere billing and cooing, darling.”
Allegra laughed, and once again explained the situation to her friends. She finished by saying, “I have also invited Lady Perry and Lady Johnstone. Both are widows, and are very lively, I am told.”
“I wonder which one Prinny will take to bed,” Caroline said mischievously.
“Probably both,” Eunice said drolly. “Or possibly he will share with young Mr. Brummell.”
“Brummell wouldn't take such a healthy woman to his bed,” Caroline riposted. “She might muss his hair, or his garments. Do you think he is as elegant in his nightgarb as he is said to be in his clothing?”
“Is it true he wears black to dinner?” Eunice wondered aloud.
“He does,” Allegra said, “and frankly I think it extremely elegant. Far more so than suits of peach or sky blue silk. You will find him most charming as I have.”
“He barely acknowledged us in London last season,” Caroline recalled. “Aunt thinks he is too high-flown.”
“I asked him about it,” Allegra said. “He told me he finds debutantes tiresome and boring for the most part. Marriage, he says, makes a woman far more interesting.”
“Lord, how superior the man is. I vow I am terrified to meet him,” Eunice said, and they all laughed.
Crofts came, and offered to escort the ladies to their bed-chambers. “Lady Perry and her sister are arriving, your ladyship,” he told Allegra. The others hurried off,
and Allegra went out to greet the last of her guests to arrive.
They stepped from their carriage. Lady Perry was a petite blonde in her late twenties, and her sister a bit older and plumper.
“Duchess, how kind of you to invite us,” Georgianna Perry said in an elegant, well-modulated voice.
“I am in your debt, both of you,” Allegra responded charmingly. “The prince arrived unexpectedly,” and then she went on to explain the situation to the two attractive widows.
“We shall, of course, keep your secret,” Margot, Lady Johnstone said. “How sensitive of you to protect the prince's feelings.”
“I am seating you on either side of him at dinner,” Allegra told them.
“Of course,” Lady Perry replied, understanding the situation immediately. “My sister and I shall endeavor to keep Prinny amused.”
“Do you hunt?” Allegra asked them. “The gentlemen go out at dawn.”
“Do you?”
was the response.
“No,” Allegra admitted.
“Then we shall be more than glad to follow your lead, Duchess,” Lady Perry told her hostess. “Amusing Prinny in the evening is one thing, but I believe we are wiser to leave the gentlemen to their blood sports while we get our beauty sleep. Don't you agree?”
“Oh, yes!” Allegra said with a broad smile, and then she escorted her guests into the house.
T
he dining room at Hunter's Lair was filled with laughter and clever banter. The mahogany table was covered with a beautiful white damask cloth from Ireland, edged in lace. A large silver bowl filled with late yellow roses and greenery was centered, and flanked on either side by magnificent silver candelabra burning pure white beeswax candles that were scented with rose oil. There were twelve at the table tonight, and each place was set with a beautiful silver service and fine china from Dr. Wall's Royal Worcester pottery. Behind each chair stood a footman in green and silver livery, while other servants passed around the dishes being offered this evening.
The fish course consisted of fresh raw oysters served from a large bowl, steamed mussels, fat prawns with a mustard sauce, and sliced salmon and trout, both of which had been poached in wine and were placed on silver platters amid a bed of fresh cress. Next came the meats, poultry, and game. There was a side of beef that had been packed in salt and roasted over a slow fire. There was venison, partridges cooked to a golden turn, rabbit pies oozing brown gravy, a turkey stuffed with bread, apples, and chestnuts, and two large hams covered
with cloves and brown sugar, as well as several silver plates of lamb chops, the prince's favorite.