by Jean Plaidy
Sarah was holding something in her lap and her brother-in-law asked what it was she was regarding so tenderly. Lady Caroline gave a little shriek as Sarah held up the hedgehog.
"Not at the breakfast table." she cried.
But Sarah began to laugh and set the creature on the table. "Is he not a little darling?" demanded Sarah.
"I refuse to have him on the breakfast table," declared Lady Caroline.
But Sarah was looking appealingly at her brother-in-law. Henry Fox thought her a little idiot, but she amused him and was so pretty so he said: "Don't be hard on poor Sarah, Caroline. She has suffered three bereavements so recently the death of her little squirrel, that of Beau her horse ...”
Sarah's eyes filled with tears at the recollection.
"Not to mention," went on Mr. Fox as though he were addressing the House of Commons, 'the King of England.”
"Oh, dear Mr. Fox," sighed Sarah plaintively, 'do not bring up that stale matter again. I am so sick of the King and his wedding.”
"Sarah, for God's sake try to be sensible," pleaded Caroline. "I know it is difficult for you ...”
"Very," sighed Sarah mischievously. "Don't you love the way he rolls into a ball. Look at those spikes.”
Caroline sighed and looked at her husband who shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention to his food. "People are going to be sorry for you, Sarah," went on Caroline.
"Why?”
"Oh, don't be absurd. You are the most publicly jilted woman in England.”
"I shall be very cool to him when we meet and show I don't care in the least.”
"Try to be sensible. This is the King.”
Sarah was silent, eating stolidly.
"The wedding will be delayed, I doubt not," Mr. Fox was saying, 'on account of the death of the bride's mother.”
"Perhaps," put in Lady Caroline hopefully, 'it will not take place at all.”
"Little fear or hope of that. I have no doubt that the Duke of Strelitz is not going to miss such an opportunity,”
"He has more sense than some foolish people.”
Sarah groaned. "How we do return to the same point in this house," she said.
"It is not every house which has a member of the family so foolish as to throw away a crown.”
"George is a fool," cried Sarah. "If he had not been he wouldn't have let them persuade him and he would have asked me himself ... not through Susan. If you ask me I'm well rid of him.”
"Well rid of a crown, the power to do your family good, to bear a king?" said Caroline.
Sarah looked at her sister helplessly. "There are other things we might talk of. What of our sister Emily's confinement? Is that not more important than my being jilted?”
"Nothing that has ever happened to this family is more important than your being jilted by the King.”
Sarah picked up her hedgehog and flounced out of the room. "I'm sick of all this talk, Sukey," she said to the hedgehog, and she laughed for she had named him after her friend Susan Fox- Strangeways to whom she had given the nicknames of Sukey and Pussy.
"But Sukey was more suitable, for you, Sukey," she said. "You could hardly be Pussy could you?
I have an idea that might have offended your dignity.”
Reaching her room she did what she enjoyed doing when she wished to soothe herself: wrote to Susan.
"Dearest Susan ..." She paused and thought what fun it would be if Susan were here. Everything seemed a joke then, although Susan was far more serious than she was. If George had had any sense he would have fallen in love with Susan rather than her. She was sure Susan would have known how to deal with the matter. There! she was as bad as her sister and brother-in-law; the thing was constantly in her mind. It occurred to her that Susan might not yet have heard the news of the King's proposed marriage. Could it be that it had not yet reached Somerset? She wrote rapidly: To begin to astonish you as much as I was, I must tell you that he is going to be married to a Princess of Mecklenburg ... Does not your choler rise at this ... But you will think, I daresay, that I have been doing some terrible thing to deserve it, for you won't be easily brought to change your opinion of any person; but I assure you I have not. I have been in his company very often since I last wrote to you, but though nothing was said he always took pains to show me some preference by talking twice and they were mighty kind speeches and looks. Even last Thursday the day after the news came out, the hypocrite had the face to come up and speak to me with all the good humour in the world and seemed to want to speak to me but was afraid ...
Sarah laid down her pen and thought: I am angry with him after all. He has behaved badly, and when I next see him I shall show him what I think of him.
She wrote rapidly and went on to say: In short, his behaviour is that of a man who has neither sense, good nature nor honesty. I shall have to see him on Thursday night, and I shall take care to show that I am not mortified to anybody, but if it is true that one can vex anyone with a reserved cold manner, he shall have it, I promise him.
Now as to what I think about it myself, excepting this little revenge, I have almost forgiven him.
Luckily for me I did not love him and only liked him, nor did the title weigh anything with me; so little at least, that my disappointment did not affect my spirits above one hour or two I believe. I did not cry, I assure you, which I believe you will, as I know you were more set upon it than I was. The thing I am most angry at is looking so like a fool ... but I don't much care. If he were to change his mind again (which can't be though) and not give me a very good reason for his conduct I would not have him, for if he is so weak as to be governed by everybody I should have a bad time of it...
She paused, smiling. How easy it was to understand one's true feelings when one set them on paper to friends with whom one could be entirely candid as with dear Sukey. She was piqued. She did care a little. But not much ... not so much as she had cared about the death of her squirrel or her darling Beau.
She took up her pen and wrote: I charge you not to mention this to anyone but your parents and desire them not to speak of it, for it will be said we, invent stories and he will hate us anyway, for one generally hates people that one is in the wrong with and that knows one has acted wrongly ...
It was true, she thought. But George was perhaps too weak to hate anyone. He was at heart kind, she was sure, so perhaps it would not have been so bad to marry him. She sighed and hastily finished off her letter.
His bride's mother had died. The wedding would be postponed. Was it possible ...? When all was said and done there was some satisfaction in being a queen.
There was consternation at Holland House. Lady Caroline was furious; she paced up and down the drawing room unable to control her anger. "I never heard the like. How dare he! It's an added insult.”
Mr. Fox tried to calm her. "It had to be, Sarah's position demands that she should be invited. In fact it would have been a bigger slight not to invite her than to do so.”
"She must refuse," insisted Lady Caroline.
Lady Kildare, recently delivered of a child, said that she was unsure what should be done about the matter, but her husband said: "Sarah should go. What is going to be said if she refuses.”
"It is the most humiliating business I ever heard," declared Lady Caroline.
"Let's see what Sarah herself thinks," suggested Mr. Fox.
"Sarah!" spat out Caroline. "Sarah has no opinions about anything but horses and hedgehogs ...
and perhaps squirrels. Sarah is a fool as we have learned in the bitterest manner possible.”
"Poor Sarah." murmured Mr. Fox. "At least she should be allowed to give an opinion.”
Mr. Fox summoned a servant and asked that the Lady Sarah come to the drawing room. As soon as Sarah entered it was clear to the gathered family that she knew what matter was under discussion.
"I've decided to go," she announced.
"What!" cried Caroline.
Sarah shrugged her shoulders. "If I refuse he will
think I am sulking.”
"Which you have every reason to do.”
"He might even think that I care. I am going to show him that I do not. I shall look at him ...
insolently ... while he is marrying that woman and I shall make him feel so uncomfortable that he'll wish he had never seen me ... or her. But I shall go. I have decided.”
"I don't think you have given the matter serious thought," said Caroline.
"I have made up my mind," retorted Sarah. "And after all, the invitation is sent to me. I am invited to be the bridesmaid, remember, and it is for me to decide. All I'm telling you is that I have decided.”
"It's madness," cried Caroline.
"I'm not so sure," put in Lord Kildare.
They were all waiting for Mr. Fox to express an opinion; after all he was the most important member of the family.
He lifted his shoulders. "To go or to stay away ... either is not very comfortable. Which ever is done will raise comment.”
"At least Sarah should show she has some pride," insisted Caroline.
"But I don't think I have, sister ... not much in any case. Everyone knows George is still dangling on his mother's apron strings, they know that she and Lord Bute arranged for him to marry this Charlotte person and he wasn't man enough to refuse. Poor Charlotte! I pity her.”
"I should have thought you would be envying her," snapped Caroline. "You would if you had any sense.”
"But you always said I had none of that useful commodity," smiled Sarah. "And ... I have decided.
I am going to be a bridesmaid at the King's wedding.”
Mr. Fox smiled at her, half amused, half exasperated. He deplored his sister-in-law's failure to achieve the royal marriage as much as anyone, but he couldn't help being fond of her. We shall have further trouble with Sarah, he prophesied to himself.
Sarah flounced out of the room back to Sukey the hedgehog and immediately sat down to write to Susan.
Dear Pussy, I have only time to tell you that I have been asked to be bridesmaid and I have accepted it. I'm sorry to say it's against my sister Caroline's opinion a little. I beg you to tell me what your opinion is. I think it is not to be looked upon as a favour, but as a thing due to my rank.
Why refuse it and make great talk, be abused by those who don't know and perhaps by those that do, for they are always in the right, you know ... Those that think about it will say perhaps that I want spirit and pride, which is true enough, for I don't dislike it in the least, and I don't like to affect what I don't feel though ever so right ...
Sarah put down her pen and laughed. Yes, there was no doubt writing to Susan helped her to understand her own feelings. And even when Susan replied that she thought Sarah was wrong to be one of the King's bridesmaids Sarah clung to her opinions. She was determined to go.
* * *
When George heard that Sarah had accepted the invitation he did not know whether to be relieved or alarmed. While he was being married to this strange young woman, Sarah would be standing close by! He was sure he would not be able to think of anything but Sarah. If Sarah only knew how much he had wanted to marry her! But perhaps she did. Had he not made it plain? Scarcely perhaps, since he had so quickly been persuaded. But there were secrets people did not know.
There had been Hannah. He thought of her, his beautiful Quaker, and how he had loved her and believed he always would, until he met Sarah. If he could have married Hannah, made her first Princess of Wales and then Queen of England perhaps he would never have noticed how beautiful Sarah was.
He tried not to think of Hannah, but he could not forget her. It was natural that he should think of her with his wedding day so close. How different this would be from that other wedding day when he and Hannah had stood before Dr. Wilmot and exchanged their marriage vows. He shivered.
How could he have been such a fool! But it had been no true marriage because Hannah had been married before to Isaac Axford, the Quaker grocer, one of her own sect. It was true that the marriage had taken place in Dr. Keith's Marriage Mill which was now declared illegal... but it was a true marriage all the same; and that made it impossible for the ceremony through which he had gone with Hannah to be anything but invalid. Besides, Hannah was dead. Or was she? If he could be sure... But he was supposed to be pining for the loss of Sarah, not thinking of Hannah. No, no, he was not supposed to be doing either. He was supposed to be thinking of welcoming his bride the Princess Charlotte.
George forced himself to think of Charlotte. He would be a good husband to her; they would have children, and when he was a father he would cease to be bothered by romantic follies. But he could not dismiss Sarah from his mind; and while he made almost feverish preparations to receive his bride, images of Sarah continued to torment him.
**** In the nursery Caroline Matilda, the youngest of the family, was chattering about the wedding.
She was ten years old and had always felt herself to be apart from the family because she had been born four months after her father's death. So she had never known him. Neither had her brother Frederick William really, although it was true he had been born a year before she had, when their father was alive but he could remember nothing of him, so he was as much in the dark as Caroline Matilda. Henry was sixteen and swaggered about the nursery, impatient because he was neither a boy nor a man, but very much despising his younger sister and brother. Then there was William who was eighteen, very much the man with no time to spare for ignorant little sisters. Elizabeth, the saintly one, had died what seemed like a long time ago to Caroline Matilda, but was in fact only some three years back; then there was Edward, Duke of York, who was twenty-two; and Augusta, haughty, eldest of them all, who was twenty-four years old; but she was not the most important member of the family. How could she be when there was George and although one year younger than Augusta, he was the King.
The thought that George was King of England made Caroline Matilda want to giggle, for George was less like a king than any of her brothers. He was always kind and even treated the youngest of them all as though she were worthy of some consideration. Now he was always giving audiences and receiving ministers, and even his family had to remember to show due respect to him, although he never asked for it. Before he had become king he had had time to talk to Caroline Matilda about their father. She was constantly asking questions about Papa. It seemed to her so odd to have a father who had died before she was born.
She did not share George's delight in Lord Bute, for he scarcely noticed her. All his attention was for George. And Mamma of course did not notice her much either only to lay down a lot of rules as to how the nursery was to be run, She liked to listen to her brothers, Henry and Frederick, talking together or rather Henry talked and Frederick listened. It wasn't only the gap in their ages which made, Henry supreme. Henry was only sixteen but healthy, whereas Frederick always had colds and was often out of breath. Poor Frederick; he listened patiently, only too grateful that his brother talked to him.
Caroline Matilda knew better than to attempt to join in. Henry would soon have put her in her place if she had. He wasn't like dear George dear King George, she thought with a little chuckle and the reason was that everyone knew George was king so he didn't always have to be reminding people how important he was.
Henry was saying: "It'll be different now George is king. They can't keep us cooped up forever.”
Frederick timidly asked what would happen when they were no longer cooped up.
"We shall go to balls and banquets. We shan't just be the children in the nursery. You see. Of course you and Caro will be children for years yet...”
"Frederick will be as old as you are in five years' time," Caroline couldn't help putting in.
Henry looked at her coldly. "As for you, you are only a baby still.”
"I'm ten years old which is only six years younger than you.”
"And you're a girl.”
"They marry before boys," Caroline reminded him cheekily while Frederick looked a
t her with amazement at her temerity. "After all," she went on, 'the Princess Charlotte is only seventeen and that's a year older than you are now.”
"That is not the point of the argument. The trouble with you, Caro, is that you don't think.”
"I'm thinking all the time.”
"What about?" challenged Henry.
"What I'm going to do when I grow up.”
"What's that?”
"Run wild," she told them.
Henry laughed. She had voiced his own sentiments. So even little Caroline Matilda was longing for freedom; it all came of what he called being cooped up. "It is Mamma who keeps us as we are," said Henry. "She's afraid we'll fee contaminated by wicked people if we aren't kept shut away like this.”
"George will be a good king," Caroline said, 'so then there won't be any wickedness, and when there's no danger we won't have to be shut away.”
"Poor George" said Henry knowledgeably. "He's not looking forward to his wedding.”
"Oh, but he loves the Princess Charlotte.”
"How do you know?”
"Well, he must because she is going to be his wife.”
"You don't know anything," Henry told her, 'and you would therefore be wise to keep your mouth shut. Our brother wanted Sarah Lennox not this Charlotte, and I repeat he is not going to be pleased with this wedding.”
"But ..." began Caroline and was warned by a quick look from Frederick.
The door opened suddenly and Augusta their eldest sister looked in. They were immediately silent. One always was when Augusta arrived. It was well known that she delighted in carrying tales to their mother whether to try to divert some of that affection which was lavished on George towards herself or because she liked telling tales and making trouble, no one was quite sure. But in any case her arrival was the signal to guard their tongues.
"What are you children chattering about?" she wanted to know.