“Just us three,” she said.
“Just us three.”
And for a little while, it was true.
Kew Palace
The Sitting Room
8 July 1762
“Princess Augusta has arrived, Your Majesty.”
Charlotte looked up at Brimsley, not bothering to hide her displeasure. “Is there any chance we can convince her that we are not here?”
“None,” he confirmed. “She has already proved most intractable.”
“Well, show her in,” Charlotte said with a sigh. “But only to the sitting room. Under no circumstances is she allowed to see the King.”
The King’s mother was not a restful presence, and Charlotte was determined to keep George’s life as free of stress and strife as possible.
“Your Majesty,” Augusta said when she was shown in. “You are looking well.”
Charlotte stood to greet her, even though, strictly speaking, she did not have to. She did outrank Augusta, after all. Still, it seemed a polite gesture for one’s mother-in-law, especially one’s mother-in-law whom one was about to disappoint.
“Thank you,” she said, coming forward to kiss Augusta on both cheeks. “Larger by the day, I’m afraid.”
“That is wonderful news. Uncomfortable for you, but wonderful for the nation.”
Charlotte patted her midsection. “We do what we must.”
“I did what I must nine times,” Augusta said with remarkable serenity. “Perhaps you shall even outdo me.”
As Charlotte could not begin to count the number of times she had thrown up at the outset of her pregnancy, she did not want to contemplate reaching the double digits of childbearing. “That is a race I may well be happy to let you win,” she said with a laugh.
“As long as you produce at least one healthy boy,” Augusta said. “For now. You’ll want an extra just in case.” She must have seen the look of shock on Charlotte’s face, because she added, “Do not think me so cutthroat when it comes to my children. I love them all. Dearly. But we cannot lose sight of the fact that we are royal, and we have different duties and responsibilities than the rest of the world. Just look at George.”
“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked carefully. She sat back down, indicating that Augusta should join her.
“Why, we were certain he was going to die shortly after his birth. He was quite premature.”
“Yes, he’s mentioned.”
“Even the first few years, it was always a worry. It is always a worry even if a child is born fat and healthy. George’s father and I rested much easier when Prince Edward arrived. Just nine and a half months later,” she added with pride.
“Nine and a half months?” Charlotte asked queasily.
“I take my responsibilities seriously.”
“You are most admirable,” Charlotte said.
“Now then,” Augusta said, getting down to business. “The reason for my call. I need to speak with the King.”
“Ah,” Charlotte said, clasping her hands in front of her like a serene little doll. “I’m afraid that is not possible.”
Augusta’s mouth pinched. “I do not understand.”
“The King is not receiving visitors at this time.”
“I am not a visitor. I am his mother.”
“You are most welcome to return some other time in the future.”
“I am here now.”
Charlotte schooled her features into an expression of regret. “George is not available now.”
“Does he even know I am here?” Augusta demanded.
Charlotte shrugged. “He is occupied.”
“I may be forced to worry that you are holding the King against his will,” Augusta warned. “Which would be—”
“Treason,” Charlotte supplied, almost cheerfully.
“Yes. It could be considered treason if you do not allow me to see him.”
“I am sorry, but the King does not wish to receive at this time.”
“You dare to speak for him?” Augusta seethed. “You are not the King.”
“No,” Charlotte answered, deciding that it was time to play dirty, “but I am your Queen.”
Augusta gasped. “Well. You certainly have become comfortable.”
Charlotte took a sip of her tea. “You chose me well.”
“You carry just one king in your womb,” Augusta said with sharp precision. “The other king? George? I carried that king. And while your little king can hide out, cozy and warm in the embrace of your belly, my king cannot.”
She stood, pacing across the room before turning back with a blazing expression. “How do you not know what I have always understood? From the moment a king is born, there is no hiding for him. There is no room for illness or weakness. There is only power. I have done all I can to ensure his power. And you are undoing it.”
“That is not—”
“He is not even trying,” Augusta bit off. “And you are allowing it. You cannot allow him to hide. His crown will not survive. He has a country. He has people. He must rule. Lord Bute is waiting. The government is growing restless. And suspicious. George must face Parliament.”
“Your Highness . . .” Charlotte began, but truthfully, she did not know what she could say. Augusta was right.
“This is on you now,” Augusta said as she strode to the door. “He is yours.”
Charlotte knew that Augusta did not really mean this. She could no sooner stop meddling than she could stop breathing.
But this time Augusta was not wrong. George was King. And he could not hide away forever, no matter how desperately Charlotte wanted to protect and comfort him.
With a weary sigh, she stood up and headed to the one place she knew she’d find him.
Kew Palace
The Observatory
Ten minutes later
“Charlotte!” George called cheerfully when he saw her walk in. “How goes the day?”
“Your mother was here.”
George’s fingers, which had been fiddling with one of his scientific instruments, went still. “I do not want to see her.”
“I know. I sent her away.”
He smiled. It was a smile of love and thankfulness. She understood him. She protected him. She gave him what he needed. She knew how grateful he was for that.
Just as she knew she had to finally draw a line between what he needed and what he wanted.
“However,” she said, “we must away as well. Back to Buckingham House.”
“No,” he said. “Charlotte, no.”
“You have to address Parliament. The people need their King.”
“I’m not ready.”
“You can be. You will be.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’ll have to make a speech. I’ll have to write a speech.”
“And it will be brilliant. I will support you in every way. Besides, your garden at Buckingham House has been terribly neglected. I’m sure it’s overgrown with weeds by now.”
“You know the gardeners would never allow that,” he said.
“Fine,” she conceded, “but it won’t be the way you would have it done.”
He smiled a little. Caught his lip between his teeth.
“It will be different this time,” she told him. “This time we are together. We are one.”
He touched her belly. “We are three.”
“We are three,” she agreed. “And one.” She lifted up to her tiptoes to kiss him. “You are a great king, George. And an even greater man. You can do this.”
He nodded, but it was a little shaky. “I can do this.”
Charlotte managed to get out of the room and all the way down the hall before she sagged with relief. Dear God, she hoped he could do this.