She looked forward to visits to Blackheath; and at the same time she longed for the approval of that glittering personality who was undoubtedly her father, for people were constantly remarking how alike they were and her own looking glass told her this was true.
Now she wanted to talk to her companions about the change in her life which she was fully aware was due to some development in the relationship between her mother and father; she wanted to learn whether George Keppel had discovered anything, or more likely Minney. For Minney lived here in Tilney Street where the Prince of Wales was the most constant visitor and it was certain that if something were happening he would discuss it with Mrs Fitzherbert.
‘There are a lot of wicked people in the world,’ said Charlotte, ‘and they are trying to make a mischief.’
Minney’s pretty face was solemn, George’s intent.
‘Yes, and they are trying to punish my Mamma.’
‘Why?’ asked George.
‘Why? Because she is the Princess of Wales, that’s why. And they don’t like her because she is a German and different … and she laughs a lot. Oh, you should come to Montague House. There is no place like Montague House, but because my Mamma is not like other people they hate her and want to harm her.’
‘How will they harm her?’ asked George.
‘That’s what I want to know, silly. I have to find out and save her from them.’
Minney’s face puckered; she hated trouble.
Charlotte turned on her suddenly. Minney was everything that Charlotte was not – pretty, small, dainty and protected by the affection of her dear Mamma who was not her Mamma at all, but Mrs Fitzherbert who had adopted her and might not be able to go on doing so.
‘You might have discovered if you had not been so deaf. They must talk about it.’
‘Charlotte, I haven’t heard a word.’
‘No, you silly little thing. You don’t see anything. All you do is listen to your dear Mamma telling you not to worry because she won’t let you go.’
Charlotte glowered and her long light brown hair fell about her face; she was really worried,
‘Minney is not silly, Charlotte,’ said George indignantly.
There! Even George, whom she always made do her bidding, was taking Minney’s side. She felt a sudden anger against the pretty little girl and, seizing her ear, pinched it hard, at which Minney cried out and Charlotte was immediately contrite. ‘It didn’t hurt! Or d … did it? Poor little Minney, that was wicked of me. I’m talking about wicked people and I’m as b … bad.’ She kissed Minney. ‘Oh, I’m a beast, dear dear Minney. Let me look at your ear. Oh, it’s red. I’ll give you my … my … what shall I give you, Minney? What would you like best? Dear Minney, I did not mean to pinch your ear, but you should try to discover what’s going on around you. It’s important.’
‘It’s nothing, Charlotte,’ said Minney, for the repentant Charlotte was always irresistible, and a moment’s discomfort was worth while to bring the young Princess to this mood. ‘It doesn’t hurt now and I will try to listen … I will really.’
George was looking on in some indignation. He loves Minney, thought Charlotte, faintly jealous. Everybody loves Minney. I suppose because she is good and so pretty.
‘I want to know what is happening, why I am not allowed to go to Montague House now, and what the Prince of Wales says about it.’
‘He wouldn’t tell Minney.’
‘No, stupid. But Minney is there and they will talk. All she has to do is listen and pretend she is not.’
‘That’s deceitful.’
‘Oh, don’t be such a prig, Saint George Keppel.’
The door had opened and two ladies came into the room: Lady de Clifford and Mrs Fitzherbert.
Lady de Clifford’s hazel eyes went at once to her charge and she frowned slightly. I must be looking untidy again, thought Charlotte. Poor Lady de Clifford was a dragon, but a frightened dragon. So must it be when people wait on the future Queen, thought the Princess. She must teach me discipline and at the same time not offend me mortally, or I might remember it against her or her family when I come to power.
Poor Lady de Clifford. Her turban was slightly awry. Why did she wear the ugly old thing? There was too much rouge on her ageing cheeks; it showed up the wrinkles; and she was carrying the all-important snuffbox in her hand. Snuffy old thing! She was almost as fond of her snuff as that old ogre Charlotte’s grandmamma and namesake, the old Begum, as Mamma called her. Only Mamma, whose English was not of the best, said ‘de old Begum’. ‘Old Begum,’ Charlotte would mutter to herself when she was face to face with that old woman whom she supposed she hated more than any other human being.
Charlotte always felt a strange emotion when she was in Mrs Fitzherbert’s company. Mrs Fitzherbert moved regally, like a queen. In Charlotte’s eyes she was beautiful … perhaps the most beautiful woman in the world. The Prince of Wales thought so and he was a connoisseur of beauty and elegance. Her clothes were never flamboyant but always becoming; she wore no rouge, but then she had the most perfect natural complexion, that pink and white which no artificial adjuncts could quite produce; and her hair was lovely, a mass of gold-coloured waves, unpowdered and completely natural, not puffed out with false pieces. And although she was beautiful she had a look of what Charlotte thought of as a mother. She was comfortably plump with a magnificent bosom – soft and pillowy, thought Charlotte, to cry against, which was perhaps one of the reasons why the Prince of Wales loved her so much; he was always weeping, in the most elegant way of course. Even she had watched his performance occasionally with the utmost admiration. Mrs Fitzherbert was the complete opposite of the Princess of Wales. There could not have been two women less alike – and how strange that they should both be her father’s wives. But were they? Nobody seemed absolutely sure … except Mrs Fitzherbert, of course, who would never have received the Prince so intimately in her house if she did not believe it.
What a strange family I have! thought Charlotte.
Now Mrs Fitzherbert’s eyes had gone to Minney and they were soft and maternal. Charlotte would have liked them to look at her in that way. She had her own mother, but in spite of the fact that the Princess of Wales covered her with kisses, fed her with her favourite sweetmeats, declared that she lived for her darling Charlotte’s visits, she was not as motherly as dignified Mrs Fitzherbert was towards Minney.
There was a change in Minney too. She was no longer the meek one, the one who had to take the most humble part in any game, who was subjected to the bullying of Charlotte and patronizing protection of George Keppel. She was the loved one now.
Mrs Fitzherbert, her eyes still on Minney, said: ‘His Royal Highness will soon be here. You should be ready if he wishes to see you.’
Minney expressed delight, but the main emotion of Charlotte and George was apprehension.
Lady de Clifford’s anxious eyes were on her charge.