Read The Regent's Daughter: (Georgian Series) Online
Authors: Jean Plaidy
She laughed aloud. It was a phrase he used often when attempting to restrain her.
‘Now, my dearest Doucement,’ she said, ‘I am going to make you change your mind. When Mercer brings Flahault …’
His expression hardened. ‘Such a man cannot be presented to
you.
He was Napoleon’s aide. I do not like what I hear of him. I could not consent to such a man approaching my dearest Princess.’
‘Leopold! But Mercer
loves
him.’
‘So recently an enemy.’
‘But that’s all over.’
‘We have fought cruel battles against this man and his followers who sought to dominate Europe. I cannot receive Flahault. If you wish to …’
‘Oh, Leopold. It would grieve you very much if I did?’
He nodded sadly.
‘I would never grieve you, Leopold. Never.
Never
.’
And she thought: Not even to please Mercer.
Leopold was very tender. He had been warned: ‘You should start as you intend to go on. She is one who will try for her own way.’
She was, and he understood his Charlotte well; but he would control her through gentleness, through love.
He was not now seriously concerned about the friendship with Mercer. It should gradually fade away.
Louisa controlled the sewing women who were working as long as the daylight lasted. Charlotte stood in the room while the dresses were fitted – a tiring necessity, but she scarcely noticed it. Her wedding dress would be made of silver lamé over silver tissue. She would look beautiful. Her trousseau was the most magnificent collection she had ever seen. There was gold lamé over white satin richly embroidered, a glorious white figured tissue, an embroidered gold muslin and many, many more. Her father had presented her with the priceless jewellery which was the property of the queens of England; she tried them on and gloated over them and thought all the time of Leopold. Her most precious piece of jewellery was the diamond bracelet which he himself had given her. She kissed it a hundred times a day, and told Leopold that it meant more to her than all the rest of the jewels put together.
He nodded gravely, well pleased. ‘Dearest Doucement!’ she called him.
The government was quibbling over what her allowance should be and where she should live. They decided on Camelford House as a temporary residence, and the Duke and Duchess of York had offered the couple Oatlands for the honeymoon.
Charlotte listened as though in a dream. Nothing mattered; even the fact that she had not seen Mercer did not matter.
It was April; the grass had never been so green in the parks; the birds had never sung so joyously; it was as though the whole world knew that the Princess Charlotte was in love and during this glorious month of April was to marry the husband of her choice.
Married bliss
IT WAS THE
second of May – the great day itself. Crowds had been assembling in the Mall all through the day. Charlotte was at Buckingham House with the Queen; Leopold was at Clarence House; they would meet at Carlton House where the ceremony was to take place.
Charlotte studied her reflection while her women fussed round her.
That radiant image was herself – Princess Charlotte on her wedding day! She looked taller than usual – in fact she scarcely recognized herself; the very faint flush in her usually pale cheeks was very becoming and she was beautiful.
It’s my dress, said Charlotte to herself; and indeed she had never possessed such a dress. The silver lamé shimmered over the silver tissue slip trimmed with the finest Brussels point lace. Her mantua was held at her throat with a large diamond brooch and on her head she wore an arrangement of roses and diamonds.
Louisa stood beside her, starry-eyed. ‘How I wish dear Mrs Gagarin could have lived to see this day!’ Then she wished she had not spoken for she wanted no sad thought to mar the perfection of Charlotte’s happiness.
The Queen was to drive with Charlotte to Carlton House and Louisa whispered that it was almost time for them to leave, and how strange it was to see the old Begum looking almost
handsome in her magnificent gown of gold tissue with its flounces of silver net and gold lamé.
Stepping into the carriage Charlotte felt almost fond of her grandmother. The two eldest Old Girls Augusta and Elizabeth rode with them in the carriage – four scintillating figures of silver and gold.
As soon as their carriage came into sight a great shout went up from thousands of spectators.
‘Bless me!’ cried Charlotte and the Queen had to put out a hand to restrain her. ‘What a multitude! The Park is crowded.’
Charlotte bowed and waved to the people who cheered all the more. Every single cheer was for her although the Queen acknowledged them graciously.
At Carlton House the Regent greeted them; and immediately Charlotte felt less grand for although this was her wedding he must be the most striking figure on the stage. He was wearing the Order of the Garter over the uniform of a Field Marshal – scarlet coat embroidered with gold.
Charlotte was moved as she looked at him and thought how wonderful he was because although he did not in his heart wish for this marriage he gave no sign of it. He was the beneficent god; he was going to give his daughter to Leopold, and he would do so she knew with perfect grace.
‘Oh, dearest Papa!’ she murmured; and although the Queen might frown at such a departure from etiquette, he did not. He responded immediately, with tears in his eyes: ‘My precious child, God bless you.’
In the crimson saloon the altar had been set up; the setting was magnificent but Charlotte only saw Leopold, for there he was beside her in the uniform of a British General (her father had recently bestowed this rank on him). His belt glittered with diamonds and on his chest shone the orders which he had won on the field of battle.
The Archbishop of Canterbury performed the ceremony and Charlotte’s high young voice as she made her marriage vows was firm and resonant.
‘I will!’ she cried fervently.
The ceremony was over. She was Leopold’s wife.
The Regent held out his arms and embraced her. Their tears mingled.
The Queen was waiting. Charlotte kissed her hand; then she
kissed all the Princesses and went among the company receiving their congratulations.
This, she told herself, is the happiest day of my life.
And when they were on their way to Oatlands for the honeymoon she told Leopold so.
It was just before midnight when the newly married pair reached Oatlands. Charlotte was so excited that she was chattering all the time. She told him about the eccentric Duchess and that he must not be surprised if he found a troupe of monkeys invading the nuptial chamber. At this she laughed heartily and Leopold permitted himself an indulgent smile.
‘
Doucement, ma chérie, doucement
,’ he murmured.
‘Of course I will be
douce
if you wish it, dearest Doucement,’ she cried; and she lay against him, silent as they drove up to the house.
It was pleasant to wander through the park at Oatlands, to visit the little graves in the animal cemetery, to romp with the dogs, although Leopold pointed out that romping was scarcely correct now that she was a married woman.
‘Who cares about being correct. I’m happy, dearest Leo.’
‘I’m delighted, my darling,’ replied Leopold, ‘but in your position, alas, you must be correct as well as happy. And, dearest, do you think you should call me Leo in front of the servants?’
‘What should I call you? My dearest one? My darling
Doucement
?’
‘You are incorrigible.’
‘Who would not be, married to the most handsome man in the world.’
He was delighted with her. Her exuberance was so spontaneous; but it must be curbed of course, for it was so unsuitable.
‘My love,’ he said, ‘in spite of being the most delightful princess in the world, you are also one of the greatest heiresses. Should you not remember this?’
‘I want to remember nothing but that I am my darling Leo’s wife. Leo, Leo, Leo!’ she laughed at him mockingly. ‘But not in front of the servants. What, my dearest, do you wish me to call you in front of the servants?’
‘In their presence and on all public occasions I think you should refer to me as Coburg.’
She laughed hilariously. ‘Coburg indeed. My dearest Coburg! Coburg! The way in which I will say it it will sound even more affectionate than Leo.’
‘But you will say it, my love … to please me.’
‘Dearest Leo Coburg, I would
die
to please you.’
The Prince Regent rode over to Oatlands to see how the honeymoon was progressing. For the first time in her life Charlotte would have preferred him not to bestow a mark of affection.
He could not come without a certain amount of pomp and he broke up the honeymoon intimacy of Oatlands.
He held out his arms and embraced her.
‘I see that I have intruded into paradise,’ he said with a Jove-like smile.
‘Dearest Papa, it is so good of you to come.’
‘My only child, I have been thinking of you.’
He wrinkled his nose. The smell of animals offended him. One of the Duchess’s dogs came to sniff at those highly polished boots.
Charlotte whistled to the dog and the Regent winced; he noticed that Leopold was not always pleased at Charlotte’s stable-boy manners. The fellow had some dignity, he thought – perhaps too much for an insignificant princeling but now he was basking in the reflected glory of a future Queen of England. He couldn’t like him, however. Whenever he saw him he thought of all the trouble over Orange and how much he would have preferred a Dutch match.
Charlotte slipped her arm through her father’s and his good humour was restored; he liked outward displays of affection; and it was good for people to see them after all the scandal there had been over family quarrels.
‘Being a wife becomes you.’
‘And, er … er … Coburg?’
So it was Coburg! thought the Prince. Quite formal. Good God, has Leopold been schooling her already?
They sat in the drawing room while refreshment was brought and he noticed how little Leopold drank. It was almost a reproach to the Regent, but he was determined to remain in good humour. He said that Leopold had looked well in his General’s
uniform and had he been aware of the uniforms of the guard? He then went on to discuss these uniforms in detail which set Charlotte yawning and longing for his departure, while Leopold listened intently and feigned an interest.
‘Camelford House is not really suitable,’ said the Regent. ‘You must go out and look at that place at Esher. I think it would be an ideal spot. You will probably wish to make changes there and if you need any advice I shall be pleased to give it.’
He was off on another of his favourite topics, the additions to Carlton House and the Pavilion. He gave Leopold an account of the Pavilion’s history, how it was a near-derelict old farmhouse when his major-demo Weltje had discovered it.
The visit seemed to last a long time.
When he left, the Regent said playfully to Leopold, ‘Be careful or she will govern you. You should begin as you intend to go on.’
‘Dearest Papa,’ replied Charlotte, ‘there is no question of one governing another. I shall do as Coburg wishes because it is my deepest pleasure to do so.’
‘Spoken like a loving bride,’ declared the Regent; and he added cynically to himself: In the first week of her honeymoon.
But he was sad when he left them, thinking of those days of ecstasy which had followed a certain ceremony in Maria Fitzherbert’s house in Park Street.
He said then as he had said thousands of times before: I should never have left Maria.
‘When you are happy there is nothing to write about,’ said Charlotte to Louisa.
She was thinking of Mercer, who had once meant so much to her. It was an excuse perhaps for not writing, but Mercer was surely not showing her usual good sense for she had written of her intentions to marry the Comte de Flahault, a man of whom Leopold could not approve. Perhaps it was because she had never met anyone of Leopold’s profound good sense that she had been so impressed by Mercer’s. At least Mercer would be so busy with her own affairs and perhaps she would not notice the absence of Charlotte’s letters. In the past the correspondence had been so regular. But how different it was when one was married!
It was only natural in this most perfect of unions that the most desired event should occur almost immediately. Charlotte was pregnant.
‘We will not mention it,’ said cautious Leopold, ‘until we are absolutely certain.’
Darling Doucement, he knew his Charlotte’s weaknesses. She would have announced to the entire household and in no time there would have been cartoons and lampoons circulating throughout the country. It was a matter, in any case, said Leopold, that he would not care to be the subject for crudities.
How she agreed with him! And though bubbling over with excitement she managed to suppress it.
It was not easy, particularly as, at Camelford House, which was on the corner of Oxford Street and Park Lane, they were in London and it was necessary for them to show themselves frequently. When they went to see Mr Kean perform in
Bertram
the ovation was the biggest she had ever heard. How proud she had been of Leopold Coburg for the occasion – in his General’s uniform and all the decorations which proclaimed his bravery displayed on his chest.
But when she and Leopold were to see Mrs Siddons in the role of Lady Macbeth, for which she was famous, Charlotte had felt suddenly unwell; and it had been necessary to cancel the arrangement.
The first shadow then touched the ideal marriage. Charlotte had a miscarriage. She was not very ill, for the young life had scarcely begun, but her doctors ordered her to rest and the papers discovered the reason. The people were sorry and they loved her more than ever.
Leopold consoled her. It was but a slight misfortune, and they were both so young.
Charlotte hoped she would recover in time to attend the marriage of the Princess Mary to the Duke of Gloucester. She was delighted that this was at last to take place for she had felt many an uneasy qualm at the trick she had played on Mary when she had pretended that she had wanted Silly Billy for herself.