The Regent stormed up and down his study. The impertinence! This penniless fellow from Saxe-Coburg – a younger son of an insignificant House – craved his indulgence and asked to be allowed to call on the Princess Charlotte. He felt it his duty to inform the Regent that he had received an invitation to visit the Princess. She had become aware of him when at the Pulteney Hotel, whither he had been to wait on his kinswoman the Grand Duchess of Oldenburg. He had encountered the Princess Charlotte there and begged to be allowed to conduct her to her carriage. It was then that he had received the invitation which he hesitated to accept without the Regent’s consent.
‘And I should hope not!’ cried the Regent. ‘So he would call on my daughter! And for what purpose do princes call on princesses? Charlotte is a minx and she is trying to elude her responsibilities. Orange must come back and she must be married without delay. As for Master Leopold, he can return whence he came for he is certainly not going to Warwick House.’
He called for writing materials and penned a courteous note to Leopold. He was sure the Prince would understand that he could not give him permission to call on the Princess Charlotte. With clever innuendo he suggested that in view of the fact that Leopold had become involved in a rather embarrassing situation the best way of extricating himself from it would be for him to leave the country. He was sure it could be arranged graciously and he knew that Leopold would agree with him.
That settled Leopold.
The Regent sent a message to the Prince of Holland telling him that it would be wise for him to return to England without delay.
Those matters settled, he next sent a message for Miss Knight, telling her that her presence was required at Carlton House.
Miss Knight came with much apprehension. Charlotte’s behaviour had been no credit to her lady companions and because Charlotte ignored the Duchess of Leeds and had made Cornelia her friend, she, Cornelia, would be the one who must take the blame for that indecorous conduct.
The Regent received her as soon as she arrived and his cool manner alarmed her. She who was usually calm and in full possession of her wits very frequently came near to losing them in his presence. He could be so regal and change so quickly; at one moment he made her feel that he regarded her as a wise friend and in the next that he despised her for a bungling fool. It was all done by the lift of an eyebrow, a gesture of the hand, the intonation of that very musical voice. He was a great actor who always played the part he intended to without giving anyone any doubt of his intentions.
‘Miss Knight,’ (not ‘my dear Chevalier’ which would have meant he felt kindly towards her), ‘I am disturbed.’ He looked at her reproachfully to set the scene. She was responsible for his disturbed feelings.
‘I am indeed sorry, Sir.’
‘Yes, yes. But this will not do. The Princess Charlotte has been placed in your care … and that of the Duchess; and it grieves me that she should behave in the way she does. This last escapade … this invitation to a most insignificant member of the Tsar’s entourage … Really, Miss Knight, how could she have come to be so lacking in what is required of her? She meets him on the stairs of an hotel … like … like a chambermaid. How came she to be on the stairs of an hotel? How could she in the company … unattended … of any young men who might care to accost her? It is beyond my understanding. But perhaps, Miss Knight, not beyond yours?’
He paused and she said nervously: ‘Sir, she was visiting the Duchess of Oldenburg …’
He interrupted pettishly: ‘There have been too many visits to the Duchess of Oldenburg. I do not wish these visits to continue.’
‘Does Your Highness wish them to be stopped completely?’
‘Not completely. We do not want an incident. You will agree with that, I hope, Miss Knight. But the visits are too frequent. I hear that the Princess sees the Duchess every day. That is most unseemly. They should not meet more than once a week. Soon our visitors will be leaving us but until they do I wish that the Princess Charlotte does not spend all her time in the company of the Duchess of Oldenburg. You will see to that, Miss Knight.’
‘Indeed yes, Sir. And if the Prince of Saxe-Coburg should call at Warwick House … what are your instructions?’
‘The Prince of Saxe-Coburg will not call at Warwick House. I have made my wishes clear to him. He had the grace to write to tell me what had happened. He will be preparing to leave the country at this very time.’
‘I see, Your Highness.’
He began to pace up and down. ‘And so, Miss Knight, I ask you to carry out my wishes and by so doing ensure that I am not further disturbed by these upheavals which to a father …’ he paused as though considering whether a tear was necessary and decided that a husky note in the voice was more suited to the occasion … ‘can be most upsetting. You may go now.’
‘Well,’ said Charlotte, ‘what was that about?’
‘Your father is very displeased. He knows that you invited the Prince of Saxe-Coburg here and he thinks that reprehensible.’
‘How did he know? Someone must have told him. I am spied on. I tell you I won’t be spied on!’
‘It was Leopold himself who told the Prince.’
‘Leopold!’
‘Oh, yes, he thought he should ask permission to call before doing so.’
Hot colour flooded into Charlotte’s cheeks.
‘He didn’t!’
‘The Prince Regent told me that he did. He said he had a letter from him to the effect that he had met you at the Pulteney and handed you into your carriage and that you then invited him to call at Warwick House.’
‘I don’t believe it.’
Miss Knight shrugged her shoulders.
‘It’s not true, is it?’ begged Charlotte.
‘Why should your father say so if it were not? How should he know of it?’
‘I shall ask Leopold when he comes.’
‘He won’t come. He is leaving the country.’
‘No!’
‘On the Regent’s request. And your visits to the Duchess are to be considerably curtailed.’
‘I won’t have it,’ declared Charlotte. And then: ‘So he wrote to my father. He asked permission to call. The man’s an idiot.’
Miss Knight was smiling complacently and Charlotte could have slapped her. She wanted to burst into tears; she wanted to sob out her misery; but she wasn’t going to show Cornelia how deeply she felt.
So she railed against Leopold.
‘What a ninny! He asks permission. So he has gone away, has he? He won’t come to Warwick House? Well, I’m glad, I tell you. Let him stay away. I never want to see him again.’
The dismissal of Orange
IT WAS RIDICULOUS to feel so wretched over a man to whom she had scarcely spoken and who should be so timid that he must ask her father’s permission before calling; but she did. She was however, not going to allow anyone to know it.
She pretended to be excited about the banquet which her father was giving to the foreign visitors at Carlton House.
‘Come,’ she said to Louisa, ‘make me beautiful – if that’s possible.’
‘It’s the easiest thing in the world,’ declared the fond Louisa.
Had he thought her beautiful? Attractive? Evidently not attractive enough to risk her father’s displeasure for her sake!
‘Feathers, Louisa. Yes, feathers. They are so becoming. And what dignity they give. I need it. I think I am lacking more in dignity than in beauty. Don’t deny it, Louisa. And my silver tissue dress … the one trimmed with silver lace and embroidered in lamé. You know the one.’
Louisa knew it and she exclaimed with delight as she dressed her volatile young mistress in it. ‘If Your Highness could stand a little more still it would be easier. Feathers take such fixing.’