‘Oh— Madam—’
‘Don’t be frightened. If you say no, I shall understand. It’s that when the baby is born will you— could you bear give it to me?’
‘To give it to you, Madam! You mean you want to take it?’
‘That’s what I mean, Mrs Austin. I have a daughter, my— little Charlotte, but I am not allowed to have her with me all the time. I want a baby of my very own — to care for— to have with me. You said you had too many. I am asking you to give me this one.’
‘Do you mean, Madam, that you’d take the baby— Like one of those you have in your school and look after it like, and feed and learn it things.’
‘I didn’t mean quite that. I want to have this baby as soon as its born. I want to care for it myself. I want to adopt it.’
‘Then you will.’
Caroline came out of the cottage, her eyes glowing. In two months’ time she would have her own little baby, to care for, to bring up, one who would not be snatched from her.
She came running into Montague House. Some of the servants were within earshot.
‘My, dear Fitz— Lisle, my love, something wonderful has happened. I’m going to have a baby.’
Spencer Perceval, who had now become the Attorney General, often called at Montague House. Caroline knew he was a friend whom she could trust and was delighted with his growing success. She knew too that he was brilliantly clever; his conversation was a delight, spattered with epigrams as it was; and she had heard it said that he was an unusual man, for not only had he won the approval of Pitt, who had once said that Perceval could be a future Prime Minister, but Fox and Sheridan had also expressed their admiration for him.
It was gratifying therefore that he should call on her, and she knew that when such men showed their friendship for her. It caused a great deal of chagrin to the Prince of Wales.
This in itself would have made it worthwhile her receiving such men‚ but she liked Perceval for himself and was delighted to have him as her friend.
She confided in him a great deal— what comfort to confide in a clever man He knew about her school and the children she cared for and he applauded her for doing this social work. So now she felt she could talk to him of the Austins, but as yet she had decided to be unusually discreet and say nothing of her plan for adopting the child. This she supposed was due not so much to discretion but the fear that if she talked too much of the project something might go wrong with it.
She could never understand a mother’s parting with her child and was therefore haunted by the thought that when the time came Mrs. Austin would not let it go; moreover there was the dangerous affair of birth itself. If this one were lost in the process she would be heartbroken. So therefore she had a superstitious feeling that she would not speak of it until the child was actually in her hands. But she was anxious about the poverty of the Austins.
‘I have discovered a very poor family living near here,’ she told Perceval. ‘I know you understand my concern for these people.’
He did indeed. He wished that others of her rank shared her conscience.
‘Then I know you’ll help me. The father of this family is a good respectable man who had work in the dockyards until he lost it. There are several children and I have done what I could, but I think that if the father could earn money himself they would all be happier for this. They do not want to live off charity. I can recommend Samuel Austin as a good respectable man. Can you do something for him?’
Perceval said that he would do his utmost and he had little doubt that he could find some form of employment for a good and honest man who was a protégé of the Princess, in a week or, so later Caroline was able to carry the good news to the Austins that there was a job waiting for Samuel in the dockyards.
‘You’re our good angel, Madam,’ said Mrs. Austin.
‘And you haven’t changed your mind about the baby?’
‘Why, Madam, do you take me for a fool.? This baby’s going to be the luckiest in Blackheath!’
‘I’ll try to make it so,’ said Caroline.
Lady Douglas had had another daughter. Caroline went over to their house as soon as she heard the news, taking with her lavish presents for mother and baby.
‘My dear,’ she cried as she sat down heavily on the bed, 'you must be the happiest woman alive.’
Lady Douglas asked the nurse to bring the child and it was laid in the Princess’s arms. Caroline was rapturous. ‘What a little darling! I adore her. I would envy you except for the fact— but it’s a secret. You will know in due course.’
Lady Douglas clenched her hands beneath the bedclothes and thought: Can she mean she is pregnant! Is it possible! Oh, the traitor. It is so. I’m sure of it. She said sweetly: ‘I am going to ask a great favour of you. May I?’
‘Please do. I am sure it will be granted.’
‘Would you act as sponsor to my new daughter?’
‘Nothing would please me more.’
‘And have I your Highness’s permission to name her after you? Sir John and I would like to call her Caroline Sydney.’
‘I cannot think of a happier combination,’ smiled the Princess.
As the birth of Mrs. Austin’s child became imminent, Caroline arranged for her to go into the Brownlow Street Hospital and in due course a boy was born.
When Mrs. Austin came home, Caroline went to the cottage and saw the child in his shabby cradle. She took him up in her arms but Mrs. Austin said that she would have to keep him with her for a week or two.
‘You are not going against your word?’ cried Caroline.
‘Lord love you, Madam, it’s us that’s frightened you’ll go against yours.’
‘Never,’ said Caroline, hanging over the cradle, ‘Have you named him?’
‘We thought of William, Madam.’
‘It’s a good name,’ replied Caroline. ‘Little William— my little Will. Yes, he shall be William. When am I going to have him?’
‘In three weeks from now?’
‘I wait with great impatience.’
As was promised, the baby boy was delivered to Montague House where Caroline had already prepared a luxurious nursery for him. She covered his face with kisses; she was going to look after him herself. He was hers as darling Charlotte could never be. Her little Willie.
‘My Willie,’ she cooed. ‘My little Willikin.’
And that made him seem like hers. From henceforth he was Willikin.
Lady Douglas was away for a few weeks and Caroline was longing for her to come back so that she could show her the baby. When she eventually did she immediately came to call and was shown into the Princess’s drawing room by Mrs. Fitzgerald, Caroline had thrown a light piece of cloth over the child so that it was not immediately visible.
‘I have a surprise for you,’ she cried excitedly. ‘Turn your back or shut your eyes. No— turn your back. I want you to have a really big surprise.’
Lady Douglas did so and when Caroline gave her permission to turn, saw the child lying on the sofa.
‘Your Highness!’ cried Lady Douglas.
‘Ha. I told you I was going to have a baby, did I not?’
‘You did, Your Highness, but—’
Mrs. Fitzgerald who had remained in the room said quickly: ‘Her Highness adopted the child. He is the son of a Sophia Austin, the wife of a dock labourer.
You should have seen him when he arrived.’
Caroline had snatched up the child and was kissing him frantically, ‘He has changed has he not, Fitz? Is he not now the most beautiful baby in England?’
‘He should be, Madam, with all the care you give him.’
‘So Your Highness is looking after him yourself?’ asked Lady Douglas.
‘Of course, my dear. Why else should I want a baby? To give to others to care for! You shall see how I look after him. think it is his feeding time, is it not, Fitz?