Виктория Холт - Queen in waiting

Marriage was a sacrament, he pointed out. The Princess would do well to bear this in mind. She must bear in mind the privileges of a husband and the duty a wife owed to him. She must therefore command a certain woman of her household to return to her husband and remember that although she was a Princess she had a duty to God.

Caroline read the letter thoughtfully.

Why had the Archbishop written to her? Would Henry Howard have gone to him and drunkenly suggested that he should do so?

Of course not. She saw the hand of the King in this.

Slowly she tore up the Archbishop's letter.

Caroline was resting. It had been a heavy dinner and she followed the Hanoverian custom of retiring afterwards. In his apartments George Augustus would be sleeping heavily; and afterwards he would come to her apartments and they would take a walk together.

She was thinking of Henrietta and what steps the King might take to force her to send the woman away. What an implacable enemy he was, and how he hated them! Not content with striking the worst blow any man could give any woman by taking her children from her, he must think of these little pinpricks to torment her.

She heard a scuffle at her door and rising from her bed she threw a robe about her.

"I will see her," cried a voice. "I insist. You can't keep me away."

The door was flung open and a man with bloodshot eyes, his coat bedraggled, his wig awry, burst into the room.

"Who ..." began the Princess.

"I'm Henry Howard," he cried. "And I've come for my wife."

"How dare you. Go away at once. You vill hear more of this."

"And so will you. Madam, if you hide my wife. Where is she? In the Prince's bed? I tell you I'll have her out of that. I'll have her where she belongs."

"This is very unseemly," said Caroline, and wondered how she remained so cool; for she had heard Henrietta say that her husband was half mad and when he had been drinking entirely so. Certainly he had been drinking now.

"Do not think that I shan't have my wife. If I have to pull her out of your coach, I'll get her."

He stood before her, hands on his hips, his bloodshot eyes leering. The window was behind them and for one moment Caroline thought that he was going to pick her up and throw her out of it.

She was aware of the open door and one of the footmen standing there, mouth agape. She managed to move swiftly from the window and as she stood with her back to the footman facing the window, she felt safer.

Her moment of complete panic had passed.

"I assure you no one vould dare take any servant of mine from my coach."

He was aware of the footman and the open door for he lost a little of his truculence. Caroline was quick to seize the advantage.

"Your wife shall certainly not be forced to go vith you. It is a matter she herself vill decide. If she vishes to go vith you that is her affair."

"Madam, I warn you I shall take my case to the King."

"Do so if you vish. The King has nothing to do vith my servants. And if you do not leave my presence immediately you vill be thrown out."

Henry Howard gaped at her for a few moments; then he muttered something, bowed and went out.

Caroline shut the door quickly and leaned against it.

This had gone farther than she had thought. Henry Howard would never have dared break into her apartment, he would never have spoken to her as he had if he had not had the support of the King behind him.

Henrietta came running into the apartment, her hair hanging in disorder, her eyes wide with terror.

She threw herself at Caroline's feet and embraced her knees.

"Oh, Madam, Madam ... he has been here. He will drag me away. What shall I do?"

"Be calm, Henrietta. This is the King's doing."

"The King!"

"Ve must face the truth. He only vants to cause more trouble, more scandal for us."

"Madam. You don't want me to go away?"

Caroline's face hardened. "Vat! And play right into their hands. No. Ve must fight them. If they take this to a court ve must let them know what sort of a man your husband is. Ve'll prove him the cruel half-insane creature he is. That von't look so veil for one of the King's servants, vill it?"

"But he can take me away ... Oh Madam "

The Prince burst into the apartment, his face pink, the veins knotted at his temples, his eyes blazing.

"Vot the devil...."

"Mrs. Howard's husband has been here demanding her return."

"She shall not go. I vill not it allow."

"No, ve vill not allow it," said Caroline.

"Got damn him," cried the Prince and taking off his wig started to kick it round the apartment.

Caroline caught it as it came her way. She picked it up and gently replaced it on his head.

"It is not goot to disturb ourselves," she said gently, "ve vill this matter settle."

Henrietta raised her eyes to Caroline's face and her look was almost trustful; the Prince was undoubtedly soothed.

Even in this, thought Caroline, they look to me; and the thought gave her a grain of comfort.

The King lost interest suddenly; he had achieved his purpose; everyone knew that Henry Howard had broken into the Princess's apartment and drunkenly demanded she give up her husband's mistress and that she had refused to do so. It made an amusingly ribald story and the lampooners were busy with it.

This could bring little credit to Leicester House, thought the King.

Henry Howard however did not see why he should abandon a project which could be profitable and decided to take the matter to court. Everyone concerned knew that the law could force a wife to return to her husband and all sides were in a panic—Henry Howard because he did not want his wife back and Henrietta, the Prince and Princess because they feared she would have to go.

It was an absurd situation. Howard's advisers suggested he ask for a reasonable settlement from the Prince on receipt of which he would be prepared to let the matter drop.

Negotiations went on through the winter and when the Prince and Princess of Wales moved to Richmond for the summer, Henrietta left disguised with the Duke of Argyll and his brother Lord Islay—two of the Prince's greatest friends— and arrived at Richmond earlier than the royal party.

Eventually the matter was settled. Henry Howard would allow his wife to remain in the Princess's service for an annual payment of £1,200 a year.

He believed he had come out of the affair very nicely. As for the Prince, Princess and Henrietta, they could only be delighted that the affair was over; and Caroline began to wonder whether the quarrel might be mended, for while this unhappy state of affairs continued they could expect such unpleasantness from the King. Moreover the longing to have her children with her was becoming too acute to be endured.

Time was passing. They were growing away from her. Should she seek some compromise?

She was beginning to think that she would agree to almost anything if she could have her children back.

She was turning over in her mind whether Sir Robert Walpole might have some suggestion to make.

It was Walpole himself who suggested the reconciliation.

The King unable to stay away for long from his beloved Hanover had paid another visit and had left a Council of Regency, consisting of thirteen Lord Justices to govern during his absence, in which this Prince of Wales had no part.

Caroline had realized then that she and the Prince had everything to lose from the continuance of this quarrel. Walpole during his visits to Leicester House had made her aware of the situation in Spain where the all powerful Cardinal Alberoni ruled for weak Philip V. As a guest at this Court was James Stuart, known there as James III of England, and the Spanish were ready to help him drive out the Hanoverians.

"They believe," Walpole had explained, "that the people are weary of Hanoverians and that they long for the return of the Stuart."

"Do you believe this to be true?" asked Caroline. "I want a truthful answer please."

Walpole had looked her straight into her face and said: "Madam, anything but the truth between us would be both pointless and dangerous. I do not believe the people of England are tired of your family; but I do believe they are tired of your family quarrels."

"Then let us end them," she cried passionately. "I would be prepared to immediately."

"There would doubtless be conditions on both sides."

"There is only one condition I should insist on: The return of my children."

"There is the Prince," Walpole reminded her.

"I would do anything ... and persuade the Prince to ... if I could have my children back."

Walpole smiled slowly. "It must be arranged," he said.

And her hopes were higher than they had ever been. There was a strength about Walpole. She trusted him.

George Augustus was not easy to control. He deeply resented the fact that he had been left out of the Regency. He talked slightingly of his father and Caroline was anxious because she knew that the King's spies were everywhere and that they would report every word that was said.

"My father thinks he has the better of me," boasted George Augustus. "But time vill tell. He is getting old and can't live forever. Then it vill be my turn. Things vill be different then."

Caroline shivered. The last thing any man—King or commoner—wanted to hear was how much better his successor would carry out his tasks when he was dead.

George came back from Hanover. The Spanish attempt to put James back on the English throne had failed but there were Jacobite rumblings all over the country.

Furious with his son, having heard that he had boasted of what he would do when he was King, George tried to pass the Peerage Bill through the Commons and Lords. This proposed to limit the House of Lords so that when the Prince became King he would be unable to create any new peers.

This bill almost became law but Walpole made such a brilliant speech against it that it was rejected. Stanhope and his ministers had long been trying to persuade Walpole to come back into the Government but he had held back and had professed himself content with the rebuilding of Houghton and the collection of pictures, content now and then to take his seat in parliament and play the part of an ordinary member.

This was not true, of course. He was an ambitious man; he loved the country life it was true; he liked to drink with congenial companions; but he was well aware that he was a master of politics and he longed for power.

He pointed out to Stanhope that this quarrel in the royal family was undermining the country's prestige abroad. Time which should have been given to serious matters was taken up in petty spite and pinpricks.

"If there is a reconciliation between the King and the Prince I should come back into the government ... not otherwise," he declared. And when Stanhope asked if he could bring about that reconciliation, he said he would try to.

"So you will approach the Prince?"

Walpole laughed. "Oh no," he replied. "The Princess."

Lady Cowper grumbled to Mrs. Clayton that that fellow Walpole monopolized the Princess. "At every gathering," she complained, "he's at her side. Everyone is noticing it."

"They know, of course," replied Mrs. Clayton, "that he is trying to bring about a reconciliation. If anyone can do it ... he can."

"I don't trust him. Out for himself is Master Walpole."

But Caroline trusted him; and now her great desire was to have her children back. Every time she saw them it was becoming increasingly hard to say goodbye. They noticed her sadness and told her that although they were separated from her they thought of her every day and longed for the next meeting as much as she did.

But they never saw their father. That was forbidden.

And what were they hearing of him> wondered Caroline. She knew that at St. James's and Hampton they could not be unaware of the criticism ... no, it was worse than that ... ridicule.

And how easy it was to ridicule the Prince !

She was deeply touched when they gathered a basket of cherries which they sent to him.

"Tell Papa that we gathered these ourselves/'

She had told them he would be so delighted that he would want to keep them for ever.

"That," replied Anne, "would not be a very clever thing to do for they would soon be unfit for anything."