o b464705202491194

by Cheyenne

  becoming friendly towards him. She was quite comfortable, she said. She liked

  looking around. And seeing some of the crippled pensioners in the courtyard

  below the window, many of them having lost a limb, she said with a little laugh:

  ‘Tell me, do all the English lack a leg or an arm?’

  Malmesbury saw Sir Hugh flinch and his lips tightened as he said with the

  utmost severity: ‘Do not joke on such a matter, Madam, I beg of you.’

  And Caroline was silent for a few moments and then to his relief he saw that

  the first carriage had arrived. Lady Jersey alighted and came into the Hospital to greet the Princess on behalf of the Prince of Wales.

  Caroline was all eagerness to see this woman of whom she had heard so

  much. She was astonished. She had imagined some monster and there curtseying

  before her, with the utmost display of homage, was the daintiest creature she had ever seen.

  How pretty she is! thought Caroline.

  Lady Jersey was raising the most beautiful eyes Caroline had ever seen,

  smiling charmingly. Could it be possible that she was a grandmother? How did

  she remain so slender, so beautiful?

  ‘Your Highness, I have come to serve you.’

  The Princess nodded and Malmesbury closed his eyes because he could not

  bear to look.

  Lady Jersey was thinking: She is more attractive than I had been led to believe

  But it is that hat— it would make anyone look attractive. That must be discarded.

  ‘Madam,’ she said, ‘there has been some unaccountable delay—’

  Unaccountable, fumed Malmesbury, inwardly . Very accountable, I should think!

  ‘If you would give your permission for us to proceed with the dressing

  immediately

  ‘Why yes, yes, of course,’ cried the Princess

  ‘Then if you will allow me to conduct you to a room where we can thus serve

  Your Highness—’

  ‘Come along,’ cried Caroline.

  Lady Jersey and Mrs. Harcourt left with the Princess.

  Malmesbury looking after them thought: She has learned nothing— nothing.

  ————————

  ‘I have here, Madam, the clothes which have been especially designed for

  your journey to St. James’s.’

  ‘Clothes!’ Caroline was eager to see them. ‘White?’ she cried.

  ‘Yes, Madam. The symbol of purity.’

  Caroline laughed aloud, and Lady Jersey looked surprised.

  ‘Your Highness is amused?’

  ‘Just a little.’

  ‘Indeed, Madam.’

  ‘My father’s mistress used to say that white never suited me.’

  ‘White not suit you! But Your Highness has the most beautiful colouring.

  Such freshness. White, if you will pardon me, Madam, is for ladies like Your

  Highness.’

  Lady Jersey— herself so elegant— must know, thought Caroline. Madame de

  Hertzfeldt had seemed elegant, but that was in Brunswick. She could not compare

  with this dainty creature.

  ‘It is the most beautiful satin available. Pray touch it, Madam. There, Do you

  not long to try it on?’

  ‘I never saw such satin,’ admitted Caroline.

  ‘No, Madam, I daresay not. I ordered it especially for you. Nothing but the

  best would be worthy of Your Highness and I chose the best dressmakers in

  London. Would Your Highness try it?’

  Caroline removed the beaver hat.

  Her hair is lovely, thought Lady Jersey. That must certainly be put out of sight. That turban will be excellent.

  Caroline took off her muslin dress and put on the white Satin.

  ‘It couldn’t be better,’ cried Lady Jersey. ‘Do you not think so, Mrs.

  Harcourt?’ Mrs. Harcourt, whose position in the Princess’s household depended

  on Lady Jersey, must agree with her, so she did, but reluctantly, for she had

  grown fond of the Princess and had been pleased to see her look so well in her

  muslin gown. Nothing, thought Lady Jersey complacently, could have brought out

  the coarseness of that ruddy complexion better than the harsh white satin.

  She picked up the hat. ‘It is charming for some purposes,’ she admitted. ‘A

  ride in the country perhaps. But this is Your Highness’s first ride through the

  Capital, and we need something much more fine.’

  She produced a turban trimmed with white satin and decorated with white

  feathers. This she placed on Caroline’s head, making sure that her hair was

  hidden.

  The result was too much for Caroline to accept. It was quite hideous. It

  accentuated the deep colour of her cheeks while taking all the colour from her

  eyes.

  ‘It’s ugly,’ cried Caroline.

  ‘Your Highness, it is the height of fashion.’

  ‘Then the height of fashion is not for me.’ Caroline tore off the turban and

  threw it across the room. She shook out her hair and put back the beaver hat. The effect was ruined by the harsh white satin dress.

  Lady Jersey was disappointed, she had reckoned on discarding that hat, but

  she saw it would be unwise to press the point. And in any case the beaver hat with the white satin was quite ridiculous.

  ‘At least Your Highness will wear the dress,’ said Lady Jersey anxiously.

  Caroline smoothed down the folds. She had never felt such soft material. Oh

  yes, she loved the dress.

  ‘Then you must allow me to touch up Your Highness’s complexion— just a

  little. The ladies of the Court do, you know. It’s the fashion.’

  Caroline looked at Lady Jersey’s delicately tinted cheeks. She really was a

  little beauty. It would be pleasant to look like that.

  Caroline sat down and Lady Jersey applied rouge to the florid cheeks. The

  effect was startling but it seemed to please Caroline as much as Lady Jersey.

  She was ready for the journey so putting on a green satin cloak trimmed with

  gold loops and tassels she allowed herself to be conducted to the coaches.

  Lord Malmesbury was horrified by the change in her. He should have

  prevented this. He should have foreseen what that wicked creature, Lady Jersey,

  would do to his innocent Princess. For innocent she undoubtedly was and was

  almost ready to treat the woman as a friend in spite of what she had heard of her.

  At any moment she would be calling her my love.

  Caroline got into the first coach and Lady Jersey was about to take her place

  beside her when Lord Malmesbury pointed out that the Princess should sit facing

  the horses and her ladies opposite her. No one should sit beside the Princess. Lady Jersey put her hand over her eyes.

  ‘I feel sick when I sit with my back to the horses.’

  ‘How unfortunate, and you a Lady of the Bedchamber! I should have thought

  such a disability would have disqualified you from taking such a post; but since it did not I suggest that you ride in the second coach with me which will give me

  great pleasure and prevent any unfortunate occurrence.’

  ‘But who will ride with the Princess ‘ demanded Lady Jersey.

  ‘There is the second lady-in-waiting.’

  ‘It would be most improper for Mrs. Ashton to ride with Her Highness,’

  declared Lady Jersey. ‘My place is in the first carriage and I will take it— not

  matter what the consequences.’

  The Princess was about to offer to change places so that Lady Jersey might be

  comfortable, but a stern look from Lord Malmesbury stop
ped her.

  ‘The Princess must sit facing the horses,’ he said firmly, ‘Anything else is

  unthinkable.’

  The horses were whipped up and the journey began

  Caroline thought: So this was his mistress. Could it be that she had wanted to

  sit in the place of honour to show she was of more importance than his wife? Still she had been kind to her; she had had this beautiful dress prepared Perhaps they

  could be friends.

  How gauche she is! How unroyal! thought Lady Jersey. Simple, too He will loathe her on sight And that dress is quite hideous. I must compliment the

  dressmakers on making exactly what I wished for,

  She does give herself airs, thought Caroline. Of course she is very pretty. But she must be quite old— yet I admit beautiful and very experienced. They say the Prince admires experience.

  ‘You should not think that I am an innocent girl, she said suddenly, ‘I am not

  so young, you know. Do you think I have lived like a nun in a convent?’

  ‘I had not thought of the matter, Your Highness.’

  ‘I love a Prussian officer. He is very handsome. I would give a great deal to be

  going to marry him I love his little finger better than the whole person of the

  Prince of Wales.’

  ‘Is that so, Your Highness?’

  Lady Jersey was finding it difficult to suppress her laughter. How amused the

  Prince will be to hear of these confidences, she thought.

  They had arrived at St. James and the old palace loomed up before her. There

  was a crowd of people come to cheer her.

  She alighted from her coach.

  In the Prince’s Light Dragoons which had led the cavalcade from Greenwich,

  Ensign George Bryan Brummell watched the arrival.

  ‘My God,’ he thought, ‘what a fearful sight! I feel quite ill to see a woman

  who could be moderately attractive look so inelegant.’

  ————————

  The Prince drove from Carlton House to St James’s. The moment was close at

  hand. What will she be like? The reports he had heard of her, though not effusive in her praise, at least conjured up visions of a not unattractive woman. Perhaps he could educate her, teach her to be cultivated and beautiful.

  In his heart he was a little tired of Lady Jersey. He wondered if he had ever

  been in love with her. Certainly not in the way he had been with Maria And what

  was Maria doing now? What was she thinking? She would be in her drawing

  room at Marble Hill— how well he remembered it!

  And he thought: How I wish I were there now!

  But at least a new woman was waiting for him, and he confessed to a certain

  amount of curiosity. And if she were not too unattractive he might grow fond of

  her. It was his duty in any case to provide heirs to the crown.

  He was dressed in his Hussar’s uniform which was very becoming, he

  thought, the gold lacing suited his hair. He was a little too florid though, and had put on weight. He weighed

  seventeen stone which was really too much He

  was perhaps too fond of drink, but he did take plenty of exercise It’s a family

  failing, he thought; and touched the swelling at his neck, carefully hidden, of

  course.

  And now he must go and meet his wife.

  Yet all the way to St. James’s he could not get Maria Fitzherbert out of his

  mind.

  In the reception room of the palace Caroline was waiting. Malmesbury would

  present her to the Prince, and protocol demanded that no one but the three of them should be present for it was the ambassador’s duty to deliver Caroline of

  Brunswick to George, Prince of Wales.

  Caroline had begun to feel nervous.

  Malmesbury was whispering last minute instructions. ‘When the Prince

  approaches, you must kneel— immediately. You understand?’

  Caroline nodded— for once too overawed for speech.

  ‘Listen. He is coming.’

  The door was thrown open. Caroline caught a glimpse of a large glittering

  figure. She knelt. The Prince was standing before her and as he raised her, a

  shudder he could not repress ran through him.

  This— this— thing they have dared bring to me! This over-rouged, repulsive, ill-smelling object!

  Caroline looked at him. He was flushed, not nearly as handsome as the

  portrait she had received, and fat— So very fat. She smelt the perfume that dung

  to him; she saw his short nose wrinkle in disgust.

  Her hands were damp and hot. He could not bear the touch of them. He

  dropped them quickly and turning to Malmesbury said: ‘Harris, get me a glass of

  brandy quickly. I feel ill.’

  Caroline stared at her future husband in dismay. Malmesbury replied: ‘Your

  Highness, would you not rather ;

  have a glass of water?’

  ‘No, by God,’ cried the Prince. ‘But— no matter. I must— go to— the

  Queen.’

  With that he turned and walked from the room.

  Caroline looked at Malmesbury who, for once, was overcome by confusion.

  Poor child, he thought, how gauche, how unattractive in that dreadful white satin gown! And she had not changed her linen. The Prince’s delicate nostrils would

  have detected this at once. It was the reason he had flown. He was always inclined to turn his back on what he considered unpleasant and that was clearly what he

  was doing now.

  Caroline was recovering herself. She had visualized this moment many times

  since the proxy marriage but never had she imagined anything like this. She was

  angry. He did not like her. Well, she did not like him either.

  She said in her shrillest voice: ‘My God, is the Prince always like this? I

  found him very fat and not nearly so handsome as his portrait.’

  Malmesbury had recovered himself. ‘His Royal Highness is a great deal

  affected at this first interview. His feelings were too much for him so— he

  retired.’

  ‘It seems very strange behaviour. I thought I had to be so careful of mine. He

  does not seem to be of his.’

  ‘You will find him very different at dinner.’

  ‘I should hope so,’ cried Caroline.

  ‘I will see that you are conducted to your apartments now. I expect the King

  and Queen will wish you to visit them.’

  ‘Then I trust, cried Caroline, ‘that they have better manners than their son, for I do not much like his.’

  Malmesbury flinched.

  I would to God, he thought, that I had never taken part in this unfortunate affair.

  The Unwilling Bridegroom

  HE hates me, she thought. He could not have expressed it more clearly than if he had stated it in words. If they had let us meet before this and he had treated me so I would never have married him. She felt so alone. Her only friend was the Earl of Malmesbury and she knew that, in a way, while he deplored the Prince’s

  behaviour, he understood it.

  Why should this fat Prince find her so repulsive when Major Ivon Töbingen

  had loved her so much?

  Life was cruel to princesses, but one thing she had learned and that was that

  self-pity was of no use to anyone. She had to face them all at dinner— the dinner to celebrate her arrival— when the Prince would entertain all those who had

  brought her to England.

  There was only one course open to a woman of her nature, and that was to

  show them that she did not care for their opinion, not even her husband’s.

  She might have known what to expect. Had he not insulted her befo
re he had

  met her by appointing his mistress a lady of her bedchamber?

  She was not quite sure afterwards what happened at that dinner. All she was

  aware of were the disgusted looks of the Prince, the shocked ones of Lord

  Malmesbury and the delight of Lady Jersey which she scarcely took the trouble to

  hide. At least they should discover that she was not a meek nonentity. If they were going to be unpleasant to her, she would treat them in the same way.

  She accused Lady Jersey— in a mischievous way— of being the Prince’s

  mistress.

  She laughed loudly and continuously; she chattered in her own brand of

  French which was very different from the elegant manner in which the Prince

  expressed himself in that language. And as she drank and ate without restraint, her laughter grew louder, her comments more risqué. The company was half amused,

  half horrified. The Prince alone felt no amusement, only dread.

  And in the midst of her banter she had suddenly felt so lonely. She had

  wanted this man who was to be her husband to be interested in her and at least to give her a chance to please him. She thought of the children she had always

  dreamed of having. And this man would be their father. Why should he prefer that

  old woman— the mother of all those children— to the young woman who was his

  wife? She had youth‚ she was not as unattractive as he believed her to be. Her hair was quite lovely and she had heard that he greatly admired beautiful hair. It was, someone had said, Mrs Fitzherbert’s cascades of bright curls and waves which

  had first attracted him to her.

  And that woman sitting there now saying little but unable to hide her smirks

  of satisfaction, had tried to make her wear a turban which would have hidden her

  beautiful hair

  . On impulse she removed the combs from her hair and it fell

  about her shoulders.

  There was silence at the table. The Prince looked at her in astonishment

  Is the woman mad? he was thinking. My God, what have I done to be

  burdened with such a creature?

  Lord Malmesbury was looking embarrassed. He was upset which meant of

  course that she had done the wrong thing again. She laughed louder than ever, she made some crude jest. They were talking together, ignoring her. She did not need

  the sad looks of Lord Malmesbury, the furtive pleasure of Lady Jersey, the

  scarcely veiled horror of the Prince to tell her that she was a dismal failure.