‘That’s what I feared,’ said Walpole.

Lord Hervey came in while they were talking together and would have left with an apology, but the Queen called him to her and told him what they were discussing.

She showed him the letter; and after that she showed him all the King’s letters, so he too was fully aware of the growing importance of the Walmoden affair.


* * *

‘I know you will rejoice, my dear wife, that Madame de Walmoden has now become my mistress. What joy! I was not in the least disappointed.’

There followed a description of the event and the peculiar charms of his mistress.

He would like, he wrote, to keep her with him day and night, but that was not possible in view of his duties as Elector and King. But Caroline would remember well the gardens of the Leine Schloss. Well, he had given his dearest mistress apartments there so that she could have a charming view. He, of course, had to spend a great deal of time at Herrenhausen, but Caroline could be assured that he spent as much time with dear Madame de Walmolden as possible. He loved his dear wife none the less because he had this joy in his mistress; and he knew that his dear Caroline must be very happy at this time to know of his satisfaction.

Surely, thought Caroline, such a letter could never before have been written by a husband to his wife!

How firm was the hold of this woman on him?

It was comforting to read the footnote at the end of the letter.

He had heard news of the Princess of Modena, a young woman of immense sexual dexterity who was very free with her person. The Prince of Modena was, as Caroline knew, to pay a visit to England at the end of the year. He wanted her to insist that the Prince bring his wife with him. ‘She is a daughter of the Regent of France, the Duc d’Orléans, and I have a great inclination to pay my addresses to her; and this is a pleasure which I know you will want to procure for me when you know how much I wish it.’

Caroline laughed. It was seeing these sentiments written down which made him so ridiculous. He was the man with whom she had lived over all these years, but seen from a distance one had the clearer view. For him with his arrogance, his utter selfishness, his blind conceit she had subdued her desire for learning; she had pretended to follow him, to think no thought that he did not think first.

But how different it had really been It was she who had led him.

And this silly little man had not the remotest idea of the true figure he cut.


* * *

In her reply Caroline gave no indication of the rancour she felt; Walpole was right when he said she must encourage him to give absolute frankness.

She wrote long letters to him, for since he wrote them to her he expected them in return. She told him all the Court gossip she could think of and when she heard that Henrietta Howard had married George Berkeley gave him the news. This was not considered a very good match, for Berkeley was old and neither handsome nor rich; but he had long admired Henrietta and Caroline guessed that the marriage would be a successful one for Berkeley was devoted to her and Henrietta was looking for a quiet and peaceful happiness.

The King wrote that he was surprised his former mistress had married gouty old George Berkeley and he was not displeased, though he would not wish to confer such presents on his friends, but when his enemies robbed him, he prayed God they would always do it thus.

This was a churlish gesture, thought the Queen, towards Henrietta who had suffered so long from the boredom of his visits and the sharpness of his temper.

But perhaps now, compared with the wonderful Madame de Walmoden, every other woman seemed worthless.

Then came a letter in which was a piece of news which Caroline realized must be acted on without delay.

He had found a bride for Frederick. It was time that young puppy was married. They would have no peace until he was. And in any case he was no longer young and should start getting heirs. While at Herrenhausen the Princess Augusta of Saxe Gotha had been presented to him. He found her a worthy princess in every way and he had decided that she would make a bride for the Prince of Wales.

When this piece of news was imparted to Walpole he was delighted.

‘It will please the people,’ he said, ‘and it will take away one of the Prince’s main grievances. We must not allow this opportunity to pass by. Your Majesty should write to the King expressing your pleasure. And then we must acquaint His Highness with the good news.’

The Queen sent for the Prince of Wales.

Oh, my God, she thought, this is my son. How she disliked the prominent eyes, the heavy jaw, everything that so reminded her of the King! Frederick’s manners in public were excellent, but in private they were far from good. The fact was that he did not like his family any more than they liked him.

‘I have good news for you, Frederick,’ his mother told him. ‘Your father has a bride for you.’

Frederick’s expression lightened. This was the best news he could have heard.

‘Who is she?’ he asked.

‘The Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha.’

‘Young?’

‘Very young ... almost too young. Sixteen.’

‘That’s not too young,’ said the Prince with a grin.

‘Then you are pleased?’

‘I’m in love with the girl already.’

‘I wish you would be serious. Your father reports that she is a worthy match so I think you should prepare yourself for marriage.’

‘Prepare myself. I have had so long to think about it that I am fully prepared.’

Yes, he was insolent. He was more so during his father’s absences because he so resented his mother’s being Regent when he believed he should be.

‘I am referring to the mistress you keep ... rather ostentatiously.’

‘You mean Miss Vane?’

‘My God, don’t tell me there are others to whom I might refer.’

‘There is only Miss Vane.’

‘Well, you must make it known that you are no longer interested in her. She should cease to become your mistress. It will be most unfair to the Princess Augusta if she arrives to find that you are prominently displaying a mistress.’

‘It seems to be a common thing prominently to display one’s mistress ... even though married.’

He was referring to the Walmoden scandal. How did these matters become common knowledge, however much one tried to keep them secret? Officials whispering to their wives? Wives whispering it to servants ...?

‘Nevertheless,’ said the Queen, ‘as a compliment to a new wife you should not be keeping a mistress ... openly. So. I beg of you, dismiss Miss Vane.’

Frederick nodded slowly and said it would be his first duty.

Caroline was surprised at his docility. It could only mean one thing. He was tired of Anne Vane.


* * *

On his way from the Queen’s apartments the Prince met, as if by accident, Lady Archibald Hamilton. She had heard rumours that the Prince was to have a bride and wanted to discover whether or not they were true.

He quickly assured her that it was so, and that his mother had sent for him to tell him that he must rid himself of Anne Vane.

‘That is quite true,’ said Lady Archibald. ‘That affair has been a disgrace because everyone has known that she wasn’t true to you.’

The Prince flinched. Like his father he hated references to the possibility of his having been duped. Lady Archibald hurried on : ‘Oh, she is a clever one. At least there were many others before ...’

‘Ah, before,’ agreed the Prince. ‘Well, I shall say my last farewell to her now.’

Lady Archibald said that with a woman like Anne Vane there would always be rumours; she did not think the Prince would be really safe while Anne was in the country. She ought to go abroad for a few years and then everything would be so discreet.

The Prince smiled at his mistress. Everything was so discreet between them. He didn’t think that Lord Archibald had the remotest idea that his wife and the Prince were lovers. He always welcomed the Prince so warmly to his house; and although certain wags had commented that the Prince’s nose seemed inseparable from Lady Archibald Hamilton’s ear that was about the extent of the gossip, for owing to Lady Archibald’s discretion no one had been able to prove that the affair had gone farther than nose and ear.

Well, this was the opportunity to be rid of a mistress of whom he had grown tired.


* * *

So quickly did the Prince act that Anne Vane had not heard the rumours and she was surprised when Lord Baltimore, whom the Prince had chosen as his envoy, called upon her at the house she had acquired in Grosvenor Street.

Anne thought he was a new admirer and prepared to receive him coquettishly when he quickly disillusioned her.

‘I come from the Prince of Wales,’ he told her.

‘For what reason?’ she asked quickly.

‘He has decided that you and he must end your friendship because His Highness is shortly to be married.’

‘I see. Why does he not come and tell me this himself?’

Lord Baltimore ignored the question. ‘His Highness is of the opinion that to avoid scandal you should leave the country for a while. He suggests that you settle in France or Holland for two or three years. Then you would be free to return.’

‘France! ‘ echoed Anne. ‘Holland! ‘

‘Precisely. Or if you do not fancy France or Holland you will be free to choose any place ... as long as it is out of England.’

‘I’ll see him in hell first! ‘ cried Anne.

Lord Baltimore looked astonished and Anne hurried on. ‘You can get out. You can tell him that anything he has to say to me he can say himself . . . You can tell him ...’

Lord Baltimore held up a hand. ‘You have not heard all,’ he told her. ‘His Highness will continue to give you £1,600 for life if you obey. If you do not, you will not receive one penny.’

‘And ... his son?’

‘The Prince will take care of his education here in England.’

‘So I am to be separated from my son?’

‘Those are the Prince’s terms. It is for you to accept or reject them. But pray consider what rejection would mean. All those who have been your friends when you enjoyed the Prince’s favour would perhaps change their feelings towards you when you were poor and of no consequence . . which you will most certainly be if you fail to agree to His Highness’s conditions.’

She did not speak. In a few moments her life was collapsing about her. She knew that the Prince was fickle; she would not have been surprised to hear of his unfaithfulness, but that he should send another man to tell her he was giving her up hurt her pride and robbed her of her dignity.

She controlled herself sufficiently to say that she could not reply to the Prince yet. She would think of what Lord Baltimore had said: and Lord Baltimore hurriedly took his leave.

As soon as he had gone Anne sent a message to Lord Hervey. She must see him without delay.


* * *

As soon as Lord Hervey reached the house in Grosvenor Street Anne threw her arms about him and told him what had happened.

He listened carefully, weighing up how best he could embarrass the Prince.

‘It is not that I care for that young fool,’ said Anne. ‘His protection was worth having ... nothing else. I’ll be glad to be rid of him, but if I go out of England how am I going to see you?’

Hervey considered this. He enjoyed their meetings, though when she was no longer the Prince’s mistress she would not be able to give him the accounts of that young man’s follies; all the same he was by no means tired of her.

He told her that he did not see why she should be banished from England. She must write to the Prince and tell him that she refused to go.

‘I write! But you know I am useless with a pen.’ A mischievous look had come into her eyes. ‘Not like you, my lord. A pen in your hand is a sword ... or whatever you want it to be.’

It was true. Hervey could scorn, wheedle, plead, and make love with words.

He sat down and wrote a letter in the name of Anne. In this he reminded the Prince of all they had been to each other. She regretted that he was to marry, but she had been prepared for this; what she was not prepared for was banishment. Her child was the only consolation she had left and she could not leave him. Nothing but death would make her leave the country in which her child was. The letter hinted at the blame which would attach itself to him when it were known how he had treated her.