"Long live the Queen” shouted the people of London.

She saw the gaily coloured signs hanging from the shops; apprentices with their masters and their masters' wives; ladies in their chairs, elegantly scented, powdered and patched. There were men in brocaded coats, their quizzing glasses held up in the procession, delicate lace ruffles falling from their wrists; and there were beggars, ragged and, dirty, and women with children in their arms and dragging at their skirts; there were the street traders who yelled their wares, to mingle with the shouts of loyal greetings. The ballad sellers, the pie men, the milk girls with their panniers on their shoulders, the pin woman, the apple woman, the gingerbread-seller ... they were all there to play their part and add to the noise and squalor, the colour and excitement of the London streets.

Charlotte stared in amazement as the coach rumbled on. The Marchioness was amused by the effect the London scene was having on Charlotte. She looked at the watch which hung at her side and declared: "Your Majesty will scarcely have time to dress for your wedding, which is to take place tonight.”

"Tonight! But surely I shall have a day or so to ... grow accustomed to the King?”

"It has been arranged, Madam, that it shall take place tonight.”

The significance of this suddenly struck Charlotte. She was almost at St. James's. There she would come face to face with the man they had chosen to be her husband; she was to be hurried through a ceremony and then left with him alone. I cannot do it, she thought. It is too much to ask. The Marchioness was looking at her oddly.

"Your Majesty is not well," she began, then cried out in alarm for Charlotte had fallen sideways, her face ashen.

"Quick," cried the Marchioness to the Duchess, 'the Queen is about to faint. We shall be there in a minute. She can't be laid at her bridegroom's feet... in a faint!”

The Duchess took a bottle of lavender water from her pocket and opening it threw the contents into Charlotte's face. As the sweet scent filled the carriage, Charlotte opened her eyes.

"She is recovered," whispered the Marchioness.

"Oh, thank God! Your Majesty, we have arrived.”

The coach had stopped before a garden gate and a young man was coming towards it.

"The Duke of York," whispered the Marchioness to Charlotte.

Using all her will power Charlotte threw off the faintness which had almost overwhelmed her in the coach and looked about her; it seemed as though a crowd of people were pressing in on her.

Oh, God, help me, she thought. I am going to faint again.

A tall young man had stepped towards her. She knew at once who he was, for the miniature with which she had been presented was a fair likeness. Flattering, of course, but there were the prominent blue eyes, the heavy jaw, the mouth which was trying hard to smile but which in repose could be sullen.

This was her husband ... the man whose children she was to bear ... whose bed she would share this very night if it were true that they were to be married without delay. Her knees felt weak and unable to support her. She was about to sink on to them when he took both her hands and kissed them. He could not meet her eyes and she noticed this and she guessed that he was disappointed in her. She knew he must be. Doubtless they had told him she was if not beautiful tolerably attractive. And she felt so ill, so faint.

But he spoke to her kindly and his voice was tender. At least he was determined to hide his disappointment and she was grateful for that.

"My mother is waiting to greet you," the King told her. "Allow me to conduct you to her.”

He took her hand and the rest of the company fell in behind them as they went into the Palace.

Beside Augusta, Dowager Princess of Wales, stood a tall man, middle aged, but still outstandingly handsome. Charlotte guessed this was Lord Bute whose name she had heard mentioned many times as a great power in the land on account of his influence with the King and his mother.

The King presented her to his mother first and Charlotte was aware of a pair of shrewd eyes studying her; she was not sure of the meaning behind their expression but she fancied it was one of approval.

"My sister, the Princess Augusta," he said, 'who wishes to welcome you into England and the family.”

The Princess Augusta, a year older than the King, looked anything but pleased, thought Charlotte; she made a formal speech in French to which Charlotte responded; and after that Caroline Matilda was presented a girl not much more than ten years old, Charlotte realized; and she too made her speech of welcome.

Then it was the turn of Lord Bute - 'my dear friend', the King called him and Charlotte's hand was most courteously kissed and Lord Bute told her, with emotion in his voice, how delighted he was to have her with them.

The Dowager Princess had risen and said that there was little time to spare, for the wedding was to take place at nine o'clock.

"Your wedding garments are all ready in the wardrobe room," she was told. "But it may well be that some alterations will be necessary." The Princess Dowager looked as though they could hardly have expected George's Queen to be quite so thin and little.

"So we will lose no time," said the Dowager Princess, and Charlotte was walking with her into another apartment. The King had remained behind with Lord Bute and a panic seized Charlotte.

She had felt safer with her husband than with the women: the cold woman who was her mother- in-law; the supercilious girl who was her sister-in-law and the young Caroline Matilda who, she felt, was secretly amused. Why? Because she was thin and small and ugly, and the child felt this to be some sort of joke?

"Oh" cried Caroline Matilda as they entered the apartment in which the clothes were laid out.

"Did you ever see such magnificent garments!”

Charlotte said in French: "I do not speak English.”

"Then," replied Caroline Matilda, 'you will have to learn quickly, will you not?”

The Duchess and the Marchioness appeared suddenly and the Princess Dowager commanded them to assist the Queen to dress in the garments without delay. Then she signed to her daughters to retire with her.

As soon as they had left, the sewing women came in, pins hanging on strips of paper from their belts, their small eyes which seemed to have sunk deep into their heads through so much close work, beady and alert, as the magnificent gown was slipped over Charlotte's head.

"Your Majesty is trembling," said the Marchioness.

"It is well for you to smile," retorted Charlotte. "You have been married twice. I never have before. So I find it no joke.”

Indeed not, she thought as the little sewing women seized her and lifted the gown up on the shoulders and in at the seams. It is like a bad dream that goes on and on, she thought. A nightmare.

At last the dress had been made to fit her. It was truly magnificent, being of white and silver; and her purple velvet mantle was fastened at one shoulder by a cluster of beautifully matching pearls.

The King's present to Charlotte was a diamond tiara, and this with her stomacher of diamonds also a gift from the King was valued at 60,000 pounds and when she put these on they scintillated so brilliantly that she was sure their glitter would take people's eyes from her face. Never had she seen such diamonds and she wondered fleetingly what Ida von Billow would say if she could see her now.

She wished that she could know what the King's thoughts had been when he had first seen her.

**** In his own apartments, being dressed for the wedding, George was attempting to deceive himself.

He had been startled by his bride's appearance for, romantically, when he had thought of her he had pictured her so different; he had made a composite picture of Sarah Lennox and Hannah Light foot and deceived himself into thinking Charlotte would bear some resemblance to those women whom he had loved so devotedly at one time of his life. And to see her pale, thin, small, with that wide mouth, he had been temporarily shocked. His inherent kindness had forced him to smile, to treat her with special tenderness and the most important thing in those first moments of meeting had not been his disappointment but his great desire to hide it.

He had kissed her warmly, had spoken to her tenderly and trusted she had not been aware of his distaste. He determined to be a good husband to her. He must never think of another woman. Fate had been good to him where Hannah was concerned. When he thought of the difficulties that could have arisen out of that youthful indiscretion and yet at the time what a passionate necessity it had been he could tell himself that he had been obliged to pay for that folly by giving up Sarah.

In any case the affair with Sarah was at an end. Charlotte was now his wife and it was his duty as her husband to be faithful to her and as a King to set an example of morality to his people.

So he would stop comparing Charlotte with Sarah. He would never give Sarah another thought.

Hannah and Sarah belonged to the past. Charlotte was now and the future.

Lord Bute came into the apartment in the unceremonious way he now and then adopted to stress the intimacy between them. "Your Majesty is smiling," he said. "I trust you are pleased with your bride.”

"I already have an affection for her," lied the King, at the same time trying to believe it.

"I think she will make a good wife and, I pray, a fruitful one.”

The King bowed his head in agreement. His spirits were raised a little. It would make up for a good deal if they had children; and Charlotte's children would live under his roof; he could be a true father to them. He was sad again, thinking of Hannah's children and his ... living their lives in a Surrey household, not knowing who their true father was.

What mystery. What intrigue. It was a good thing that he was suitably married now. Over the indiscretions of the past he would build a solid family life. Lord Bute was smiling at him quizzically. He believed his dear friend read his thoughts accurately.

In the Chapel Royal the Archbishop of Canterbury was waiting to perform the ceremony. It was nine o'clock and in her glittering wedding garments Charlotte felt more composed, although the mantle of velvet and ermine was so heavy it was all the time threatening to fall off her thin shoulders.

Charlotte was joined by her bridesmaids; there were ten of them, all daughters of dukes or earls and charming looking creatures they were, she thought some, she noticed with chagrin, comparing with her two ladies-in-waiting for beauty, particularly the girl at the head of them who was quite lovely in her bridesmaid's gown of white and silver and the diamond coronet on her head.

She whispered to the Duke of Cumberland the King's uncle, whose name she knew as the victor of Culloden and who was giving her away, that the bridesmaids were charming and who was the leader of them.

Cumberland bent his head and gave her a very tender look which was a little grotesque on his poor face, so distorted by the palsy, although he was not an old man. He said: "Your Majesty, she is Lady Sarah Lennox, sister of the Duke of Richmond and sister-in-law to Mr. Fox, one of the King's chief ministers.”

"She is charming," murmured Charlotte. And she was aware of a slight ripple of amusement which she did not understand. Her brothers-in-law the Duke of York and Prince William were close at hand, and Dr. Seeker the Archbishop was ready to begin the ceremony.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation ...”

Charlotte glanced sideways at her young bridegroom. He seemed resolute, almost grimly determined. I can be happy with him, I believe, she was thinking. There was a kindliness in his face which was comforting and led her to believe he would be tender towards her. Nowhere had she heard an unkind word spoken of him. He was a young man determined to be a good king and a good husband and if she were equally determined to be a good wife and queen what could go wrong?

"Look, O Lord, mercifully upon them from heaven and bless them as Thou did send Thy blessing upon Abraham and Sarah...”

The King started suddenly. He was looking at the chief bridesmaid, staring at her with longing and almost pleadingly as though he were asking her forgiveness. Charlotte was conscious of the look. She saw the beautiful young girl turn her head away and stare stonily in another direction.