They laughed together— the Duchess maliciously, Caroline wildly.
‘Thirteen of them left, because they lost Octavius and Alfred. Thirteen out of fifteen is not a bad score though, is it? Thirteen. Very nice. Seven of them sons.
Oh, yes, Charlotte provided the right proportion. Nine boys there were and two boys dead makes seven, does it not? Seven husbands for seven Princesses.’
‘So Queen Charlotte was a benefactor to mankind after all,’ commented Caroline. ‘To royal mankind anyway. Just imagine all the princesses who would have had to go without husbands if she had not so zealously done her duty.’
Caroline began to laugh; and the Duchess was always disconcerted— as everyone else was— by that too wild laughter.
‘It is something for you to remember,’ said the Duchess severely, ‘And now the second son is coming to see us— Frederick, Duke of York! I confess it is a long time since I was so excited.’
‘How much more excited you would have been, Mamma, if it had been the first son, the Prince of Wales?’
‘Well, my daughter, we cannot hope for miracles. The Prince of Wales would never be allowed to leave England. If ever it should come to pass—’
‘You mean if a miracle should come to pass, Mamma?’
The Duchess looked sternly at her daughter. ‘When the Prince of Wales decides to marry, it will be the King’s envoy who conveys the news to his chosen bride’s family.’
Again that demure look crossed Caroline’s features. ‘Well, Mamma, I will endeavour to be duly excited by the proposed visit— but not too excited because it is only Uncle George’s second son, and he is coming himself. Now if it were Uncle George’s envoy instead of his son, I should be capering with glee, should I not?’
‘Caroline, sometimes your talk is most improper!’
‘I own it.’ said Caroline. She wanted to add: It is a trait I have inherited from my dear Mamma. But that would be unwise. To let the Duchess know how indiscreet she was might put a curb on conversations such as this which could mean that Caroline might become far less knowledgeable about the scandals of Europe.
The Duchess looked pleased. ‘Remember it,’ she said sternly. ‘And as soon as the Duke of York arrives you should greet him with charm and— propriety.’
Caroline was thoughtful when she left the Duchess. A possible suitor? This was clearly what her parents and Madame de Hertzfeldt had in mind. Well, she would inspect the young man and if she did not like him she would not have him.
Had not her father said that she would never be forced into marriage?
Crossing the courtyard she paused to watch the soldiers on duty. How smart they looked in their uniforms. She was sure Cousin Frederick of York would not be half as handsome as the soldier who was now coming towards her.
He saluted.
‘Good day,’ said Caroline in the familiar manner in which she spoke to everyone.
‘Good day, Your Highness.’
‘It is a good day.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Are you often on duty here, er— ” ‘I am Major von Töbingen at Your Highness’s Service.’
‘At my service, that is nice; and a little reckless Major von Töbingen, for what if I should ask a service of you?’
‘It would be the greatest pleasure of my life to render it.’
What charm! thought Caroline. And he looked so earnest, as though he really meant it.
‘I shall remember that,’ she told him; and she walked on, but when she had gone a few paces she paused to look over her shoulder. He was looking after her.
She laughed and ran into the palace.
‘Major von Töbingen,’ she said aloud. ‘A delightful man. I’ll swear he’s far more handsome than the Duke of York.’
When the Duke arrived Caroline continued to think so. By that time she had had many conversations with Major von Töbingen. In fact she was beginning to make plans which included him. She thought what delightful children he would have that was if they grew up to look and behave as he did.
The Duke of York was a tolerably good looking young man, a little arrogant.
Were all the English arrogant? she wondered. He was light-hearted, gay and ready for a flirtation with his cousin Caroline, but she suspected that he might not wish it to go beyond that.
She liked him moderately. Perhaps if she did not constantly compare him with Major von Töbingen she might have considered him as a husband, for after all if she were going to get her big family, as her mother said, she must not delay too long.
When he found that she was not prepared to treat him as a potential lover, the Duke was philosophically resigned, one might say relieved. His cousin Caroline was not ill-looking; she was bright enough; but she did not appeal to him as a wife or mistress. He was longing to get back to England; he had been away a long time but when he thought of Englishwomen they seemed so much more desirable than any he had met on his travels.
He had clear memory of Mrs. Robinson, the very handsome young actress with whom his brother, George, had been in love. What a goddess she had seemed! And he had left England before that affair had come to its conclusion.
He often laughed to think of George in love, for when George fell in love, he did so wholeheartedly. He remembered how he had accompanied his brother out into the gardens at Kew to that spot where Essex— who was then Malden— had brought the beautiful actress, George’s Perdita. And there George and she had embraced under the trees while he kept watch on one side and Malden and Perdita’s lady’s maid on the other.
What a creature Mrs. Robinson was! He had not seen anyone to touch her for beauty since he had left England. And the lady’s maid was a beauty too.
He was longing to be back; and he hoped before very long he would be. Why should he be exiled from home just because the King thought that a Guelph should take his training in a German army? But one must be fair to the old man.
There was fighting on the Continent and that gave him a chance to take part in a real battle. But oh, how he longed to go home and talk to his brother George and find out what he was doing now. For of one thing he could be sure, the Prince of Wales would be doing something exciting How much truth was there in this rumour that he had married a Mrs.
Fitzherbert? If he had— by God, there would be trouble. But there always would be trouble around George. That was the one thing he could be sure of. Oh, indeed, what joy to be home, to share his brother’s adventures, to be on those old terms of intimacy. For George was his friend as no one else ever could be.
Arid now here he was at the Court of Brunswick. Aunt Augusta was not in the least like her brother. In fact, Frederick was sure his father would heartily disapprove of his sister. He always had; but at the same time the King felt that his niece, the Princess Caroline, should be the wife of one of his sons.
Not this one, thought Frederick. I should soon tire of Madame Caroline. And she would never make a docile wife. Still, it amused him to ride with her, talk with her, dance with her— in fact behave towards her as a very good cousin.
She wanted to hear about England; and as they rode out with a party he would bring her horse close to his and talk to her.
Did they ride much in England? she wanted to know.
‘All the time. I reckon we have some of the finest horses in the world.’
Trust them, thought Caroline. They had the finest everything.
‘And your brothers and sisters, they enjoy riding.’
‘My brother, the Prince of Wales, is devoted to the exercise. Not only does he ride, but he drives his own phaeton and carriages. He is said to be one of the best horsemen in the country.’