The Regent's Daughter

Enter and exit Leopold

THE FOLLOWING JANUARY was the coldest Charlotte ever remembered. By the middle of the month the Thames was frozen and booths were set up on the ice that a fair might be held. It was impossible to travel outside London for the roads were blocked with snow; trade was coming to a standstill; but the mood of the people continued exultant because the end of the Napoleonic war was in sight.

The Regent was stricken with influenza and gout. He was peevish and his doctors were constantly at his bedside; Charlotte herself was far from well; she said she only had to put her nose outside the door to shrivel up like a lemon.

But by the end of the month the thaw had set in and everyone’s spirits rose.

On her birthday Charlotte went to visit her mother. She was feeling hurt because she had not seen her father. It was true he had remembered her birthday and had explained to her that he would be unable to see her on that day as he had promised to attend a christening. But, Charlotte asked herself, if he had really wished to be with her he would not have allowed this other engagement to be made. He had given her a splendid diamond bracelet for a birthday present when he had told her that he would be unable to see her; it was very grand and valuable and she had worn it constantly since – even on unsuitable occasions – but she could not tell him that his presence would have meant more to her than the glittering gift.

At least she could see her mother and Caroline received her with many explanations of delight and affection. If her little girl had not come to her on her birthday she would have called in Brougham and Whitbread to do something about it, she declared. She was not going to be kept away from her darling in this way. And now Charlotte must come and see her library which had just been completed. Connaught House delighted her. It was far far better than stuffy old Kensington Palace.

Charlotte admired the library which was ornate in the extreme with its six large bookcases designed by the Princess of Wales herself. Caroline called Charlotte’s attention to the pedestals at the end of the bookcases on each of which was a statue holding a lamp. There were many statues in the room and such a quantity of pictures that there was hardly a space on the wall which was not occupied.

‘There!’ cried Caroline. ‘What do you think of it, my cherub?’

‘It is very splendid, Mamma.’

‘I was determined it should be. Why should I not surround myself with splendour … and people … and amusing, clever people, eh? Because he despises me that does not mean the rest of the world does. Oh, no!’

‘Of course not, Mamma.’

‘Not my little Charlotte, eh? She loves her old mother, and I do believe that if it were possible she would come and live with me tomorrow. Is that not so?’

‘If it were possible,’ said Charlotte hesitantly.

‘One of these days it may be. They can’t treat you like a child for ever, can they?’

‘When I am married …’

‘Married. These rumours!’

Charlotte realized that her mother had not been informed of her betrothal; and indeed it had not been publicly announced, but she thought her mother should have been told.

‘So,’ cried Caroline, ‘they are true!’

‘Well, Mamma, there is an understanding between myself and the Prince of Orange.’

‘Orange! That thin little boy … without a chin and a kingdom too, until a little while ago.’

‘My father is eager for the match.’

‘The old rogue! Why? Why should my precious daughter be thrown away on that stripling! It’s monstrous! And the Regent wants it. You can’t want it, Charlotte. You can’t want him. He’ll be no good to you.’

‘I … don’t find him unpleasant.’

‘You don’t find him unpleasant! Why, bless you, that’s no way to talk about your future husband. Do you find him pleasant? Of course you don’t. I know what he wants, the old devil. He wants you out of the way. He’s jealous of you, Charlotte. He knows the people are fond of you and he knows they hate him. So he wants you out of the way … so that they’ll forget you.’

‘I don’t want to go to Holland.’

‘You must not go to Holland. You must stand out against it, my pet. And to think they did not tell me of the betrothal of my own daughter!’

‘I shall refuse to leave England.’

‘That’s right. You refuse. And refuse him too. You’re throwing yourself away, Charlotte … and why should you? You should choose your own husband … someone like little Hesse, eh?’ Caroline nudged her daughter slyly. ‘Oh, there was one you felt very fondly for, eh? And I’m not surprised, a little charmer, he was.’

Charlotte thought of the letters which he had not returned and drew away from her mother, remembering that it was she who had fostered that friendship.

‘And Fitzclarence too; and I hear that Sussex’s bastard has been casting eyes at you.’

Charlotte laughed. ‘Oh, d’Este,’ she said. ‘He has written me a most passionate letter.’

‘The young rip. What hope has he, eh?’

‘None at all, but he writes very charmingly.’

‘I’ll warrant he does and fancies himself as your cousin … although from the wrong side of the blanket … . for although that woman insists she’s married to Sussex she’s not, you know, and they’d never let you have young d’Este though he may insist he’s your cousin.’

‘I am affianced to Orange in any case.’

‘And you’re not happy about it. I can see that. Tell your Mamma.’

Charlotte explained her feelings and Caroline sat nodding sympathetically. It was easy to talk to her mother, she found.

‘Why, my love,’ said the Princess of Wales, ‘if I had any say in this, which as a mother I should have, I’d never let them marry you to a man you didn’t fancy. I know the miseries of an unhappy marriage; and I should have thought he would know, too. I cannot understand his forcing you into this … for forcing you it is.’

‘I don’t think he believes he actually forced me. I did see Orange and said that I found I liked him … just a little.’ Again that need to protect one parent in the presence of the other. But her mother was certainly soothing.

‘My dearest,’ she said, ‘you shall neyer be forced to do what is distasteful to you. You must always come to me and we will find a way out.’

‘I have some good friends. Miss Knight and Miss Elphinstone are very calm and practical and they think always of my good. They say that I should wait and see what happens. My betrothal has not even been made public yet.’

‘Dear good people!’ cried Caroline. ‘I’m glad they are with you. But never forget – you always have your mother.’

‘I don’t forget. Mamma. I know you are always there and would always help me … if you could.’

‘With all my heart, my precious. And to think they are trying to force you into a marriage you do not fancy. It must not be. Look at your Mamma. I was married … not exactly against my will. I was told I was to have the best match in Europe. Oh, my dear, what tales I heard! And the picture they sent me of him! Framed in diamonds and must have been painted twenty years before. What a rude awakening! They didn’t tell me how fat he was; and his manners. He took one look at me and asked for brandy to sustain him. That was your First Gentleman of Europe. I’ve had the fortune-teller. She should read your hand, Charlotte. Do you know that she told me that I’d be rid of him, that I’d travel. I always wanted to, Charlotte. It was one of my dreams. To travel and have lots of babies … babies of my own to look after and love. “Yes, Madam,” she said, “you’ll travel the world and you’ll have a husband … a new husband who dotes on you.” So there.’

Charlotte looked uneasy. ‘Papa would have to die first.’

Caroline put her head on one side. ‘Not necessarily, my pet. You know he’s been longing to divorce me for years. Perhaps he’ll succeed. He won’t if I can help it … but he might. He’s got the powers-that-be with him … but then so have I. Ha, that would be amusing, would it not? A new husband who adored me! Perhaps we’d have a child. Why not? There’s time. But I’d never have anyone I cared for as I do for my dearest Charlotte.’

Charlotte was uneasy and Caroline, for once, seemed to sense this and started to talk of that day eighteen years ago when they had come to her bedside and said to her: ‘You have a baby girl.’ ‘And they put you in my arms, my dearest, and I knew what it meant to be really happy. Nothing else in the world mattered. He was preparing to throw me aside … but I didn’t care. I had my baby … my own Charlotte … and there wasn’t a happier woman in London.’

Then she talked of Charlotte’s endearing ways; she had many stories most of which Charlotte had heard before, but she enjoyed hearing them again; and when it was time for her to leave she clung to her mother tenderly. Caroline supplied, oddly enough, a certain security. She was the most unstable of women, but her attitude towards her daughter had always been predictable. Charlotte believed that her mother would always willingly do her utmost to help her. It was a very pleasant feeling. Caroline seemed to sense her thoughts, for she said: ‘Never forget, dearest Charlotte, that when you need help, there is always your mother.’

‘I shall remember,’ replied Charlotte soberly.

And she felt contented as her carriage took her along the icy roads to Warwick House.

This was victory year and from all over the Continent visitors came to England to pay their respects to the Prince Regent because of the significant role England had played in the downfall of Napoleon. Wellington was the military hero and the Regent associated himself with the great general to such an extent that it seemed sometimes as though he actually believed he had been on the battlefield directing Wellington himself.

There should, he decided, be lavish entertainment for the foreigners. Carlton House and the Pavilion should be the setting for many a fête and banquet. The bells would ring out; the cannons should be fired; and this reminder of the country’s glory might even win back a little of that popularity which had been so lavishly bestowed on him in earlier days.

Charlotte must play a part in these entertainments, he decided. Orange had returned to Holland and no date had been fixed for the wedding which, said Cornelia, and Mercer agreed with her in this, was all to the good and showed that the Princess was wise not to worry at this stage about leaving England.

With the coming of April Napoleon signed his abdication of the French throne and he was given sovereignty of the island of Elba with a pension of 2,000,000 francs. Louis XVIII left his country retreat and came to London accompanied by the lifeguards en route for France – where he was received by the Regent. There was a touching meeting between them during which the King bestowed the order of St Esprit on the Regent. It was an occasion such as the Regent loved; magnificent and beneficent, tears in his eyes, flowery phrases on his lips, constant expression of friendship – all these he lavished on Louis who, plump and unctuous, swore undying friendship to his cousin of England who had made his exile so pleasant and who now rejoiced even as he did at the return of the monarchy to France.

The Regent declared that nothing would please him better than to accompany his dear cousin to Dover; and with great pomp, the King and the Regent riding together, the cavalcade set out while Napoleon left Fontainebleau for Elba.

The foreign visitors began to arrive and one of the first of these was Catherine, Duchess of Oldenburg, the sister of the Tsar of Russia (the Tsar was to follow later). She was twenty-four at this time, widowed and reputed to be very beautiful, although the British ambassador at the Hague described her as being ‘platter-faced’. This was an allusion to her Mongolian cast of features which others said was one of the reasons why, to western eyes, she was considered so fascinating.

The Duchess arrived after a somewhat uncomfortable journey, during which she had wished that she had never set out. The sea was rough; she had been dreadfully ill; and she did not consider she had been given the warm welcome in England which was the right of a sister of the Tsar – and a favourite sister at that.

She had decided to make her home in London the Pulteney Hotel and to this she came on an April day which was cold and blustery, and this did not improve her temper. She was not sure that she liked the English, but she was looking forward to seeing the Regent of whom she had heard so much.

‘An interesting ménage,’ she commented to one of her attendants. ‘He is by all accounts a most exquisite gentleman and there is this hoyden of a daughter and the most vulgar of wives of whom he seeks to rid himself.’

The Duchess’s long narrow eyes glittered. The Prince Regent would be king in due course; and she was a widow. He had only to rid himself of that woman who created such scandal. Surely not an impossibility.

She was looking for excitement in London.

She had not been a day in London when the Regent’s equerry called at the Pulteney Hotel to tell her that his master begged permission to call on his most distinguished visitor.

Catherine was excited. He was, it was said, the perfect lover – impeccably mannered, romantic, the First Gentleman of Europe. It would be amusing when her brother Alexander arrived to tell him that the Prince Regent was devoted to her and between them they would put their heads together and find a way of ridding him of the obstacle which stood between them and marriage.

She replied that she would be delighted to receive His Royal Highness and planned a magnificent toilette to astonish him. Unfortunately one of her servants had made a foolish error about the time and the Prince arrived half an hour early with the result that she was not ready and had to keep him waiting, which did not please him; and then instead of receiving him graciously as she had planned, she was obliged to go into the drawing room, where he had been taken, and there greet him as though she were some ordinary hostess.

In the drawing room she found a somewhat peevish fat gentleman who, had she been the vision of beauty he had been expecting, would have readily forgiven the delay. But she was not. She was dark, slit-eyed and flat-faced; not in the least like his own Maria Fitzherbert, with whom he still unconsciously compared all women. She was not to his taste. Where were the luscious white arms and bosoms that he so admired; the golden hair, the blue eyes, the brilliant complexion? She was dressed in some dark and exotic garment. No doubt striking, but not to his taste at all.

His dismay was obvious to her immediately and she was a woman who could hate fiercely; in that moment she hated the Regent. A fat dandy, she thought. Where is all this much vaunted charm?

I’ve seen flower girls in cotton smocks prettier than she is, thought the Regent; and his disappointment was acute.

He gave her his famous bow, however, which even she had to admit to herself was a masterpiece of elegance; and they talked desultorily, he of the war and the battles – as though he had been present and won the lot, she thought derisively – and very shortly he took his leave.

Nothing will come of this, thought the Duchess. She would have to find other means of amusing herself in London than with the Prince Regent.

She found them in his daughter, Charlotte, for naturally the girl must call on her and pay her respects. Sitting at her window brooding on her situation, waiting impatiently for the arrival of her brother Alexander, looking out across Green Park, she had decided to cultivate the Princess. She had learned of the situation between the Prince and his daughter; it was full of tensions; Charlotte was betrothed to Orange and the girl was obviously not ecstatically happy about that. It had been a match of the Regent’s arranging.

Interesting, thought the Duchess. Orange was a sickly youth but now that his father had been reinstated and the young man would be the ruler of Holland, he was not to be despised and she had thought he would make an excellent match for her sister, the Grand Duchess Anna. Quite clearly this could not be if he married young Charlotte; and the obvious answer to that was that he must not marry young Charlotte.

As she had shown her indifference to the Regent so she showed friendship to his daughter. She set out to charm the child and Charlotte – innocent, frank, ready to laugh and believe the best of everyone – was an easy victim.

Returning home in her carriage, Cornelia beside her, Charlotte said: ‘I do believe that the Duchess of Oldenburg must be one of the most amusing and charming women in the world.’

‘Your Highness can scarcely make such a hasty assessment of character.’

‘Stuff and nonsense, Notte,’ cried Charlotte. ‘I tell you she is charming. I like her very much.’

‘Time will either confirm or deny that.’

Charlotte was filled with irritation. ‘Really, I don’t know what has become of you. Ever since Devonshire’s breakfast you have been so touchy and irritable that I find it difficult to tolerate your moods.’

Cornelia was shocked. Charlotte had never spoken to her in that way before. She was immediately contrite. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Notte. I didn’t quite mean that. But the Duchess is charming and she was so pleasant to me and I find her so interesting. It’s silly for you to carp.’

Cornelia was silent for the rest of the journey.

In spite of his dislike for her, the Regent must entertain the important sister of the Tsar, so he gave a dinner for her at Carlton House to which he invited the most important of his ministers and members of the nobility.

Her entrance was a shock to them all for she appeared in the long flowing black draperies associated with widowhood. Even the Regent could not hide his surprise, and she determined to assail his reputation for perfect manners in all circumstances and asked in a loud voice why he disapproved of her gown.

It was most becoming, he declared, and far from disapproving, he admired. But he did wonder whether it resembled the costumes worn by widows.

‘I am a widow,’ she said.

‘One so young and beautiful will not remain a widow for long,’ he announced coldly, to which she replied pointedly that at the moment she felt no temptation to change that state.

The dinner party was not a success.

At every function she tried to draw him into verbal battles and he often had difficulty in extricating himself gracefully. He declared to Liverpool that ‘he would be glad when the Tsar arrived, for then he would devote his attention to him and the devil could take his waspish sister.

Meanwhile Charlotte was invited frequently to the Pulteney Hotel and there the Duchess exerted all her charm.

Cornelia was wrong, said Charlotte. The Duchess was fast becoming one of her best friends. Cornelia did not like her. Poor Notte, thought Charlotte, she was actually jealous! Was she to be denied interesting company just because a lady’s companion was jealous?

Certainly not, said Charlotte.

In June Alexander, Tsar of Russia, arrived in London with a magnificent suite among which were many princes of European States. Now the real hospitality began. The Regent was delighted to find Alexander handsome and affable – very different from his sister; he was easy to entertain and the Regent forgot the unpleasant Catherine and devoted himself to Alexander. The most extravagant entertainments were given at Carlton House. The bankers and merchants gave banquets for the visitors, and Alexander declared his desire to see all that his dear cousin of England would allow him to see. There were visits to the Bank of England, Westminster Abbey, the dockyards and the Arsenal at Woolwich; there were grand reviews in Hyde Park. The visit was not to be a long one so that there was a great deal to be crowded into a short time. Everywhere he went the Tsar was cheered; his good looks and pleasant manners endeared him to the people; and the Regent was able to bask in his reflected popularity. No longer were there sullen silences and it pleased him to imagine that he was included in the cheers.

The Duchess had not forgotten Charlotte and continued to be charming to her.

One day when the Princess came to the Pulteney Hotel as she had been encouraged to do informally, she found one of the most handsome young men she had ever seen seated beside the Duchess in animated conversation with her.

Charlotte, who had entered unannounced – for one of the most delightful things about the Duchess was the informality that could be enjoyed with her – started, somewhat awkwardly, and wondered how to proceed. The young man immediately rose to his feet, bowed, kissed the Duchess’s hand and walked to the door. Coming face to face with Charlotte he clicked his heels, bowed from the waist and departed.

Charlotte’s cheeks were pink, and the Duchess laughed. ‘Why, my dearest Charlotte, you are blushing. Well, it is most becoming. I am sure Leopold thought so.’

‘Who is that young man?’

‘A young prince and a delightful one, I do assure you. One of my favourite princes. And in fact a family connection. His sister Juliana is married to my brother Constantine. I am so glad Alexander brought him in his suite. He is so charming – interesting and intelligent too.’

There was no subterfuge about Charlotte, and being interested in the young man she made no attempt to hide the fact.

‘Tell me more of him.’

‘Sit down, my dear and make yourself comfortable and we will talk of Leopold of Saxe-Coburg.’

‘A German?’

‘Well, is there anything wrong with that? You yourself have much German blood in you.’

‘I think of myself as English. But pray, dear Duchess, tell me about this Leopold.’

‘He is the youngest of a large family … well, six or seven of them.’

‘The youngest.’

‘You are thinking he will be a poor young prince. That may be, but what he lacks in worldly possessions he makes up for by his handsome face. Do you agree?’

‘I thought him handsome.’

‘Why, he’s the best-looking prince in Europe.’ She leaned over and touched Charlotte’s hand. ‘I believe you are already comparing him with poor Orange. Poor Orange! He won’t come very well out of the comparison. Not many would with Leopold. Now if you were not betrothed I would say: “There is the man for you.” He’s a Protestant too so there would be no trouble on that score.’

Charlotte giggled. ‘I don’t know what my father would say if he could hear us.’

‘Well, is that not why we enjoy each other’s company … because we don’t have to stand on ceremony, because we can say what we mean … and if we wish to discuss the most handsome prince in Europe I don’t see why we shouldn’t … and compare him with others less fortunate … if we wish to. Don’t you agree?’

‘I do agree,’ said Charlotte fiercely.

The Duchess was smiling secretly when Charlotte took her leave, for she had a shrewd suspicion as to who would be waiting at the door of the chamber. Leopold would surely not miss such an opportunity, for he was a very ambitious young man.

Thus when Charlotte passed out of the room she immediately saw the young Prince of Saxe-Coburg standing at attention. Again that military bow which was very attractive – less elegant but more masculine than that famous one of the Regent’s.

He looked at her, her eyes brilliant with excitement and he said: ‘I waited in the hope that Your Royal Highness would allow me to conduct you to your carriage.’

‘That is good of you,’ Charlotte said graciously.

She laid her hand on his arm and he declared that he was extremely sensible of the honour done to him. How serious he was! There was no sign of gaiety in his eyes; it was a very solemn occasion.

Cornelia stared in amazement to see Charlotte’s escort, but Charlotte did not look in her direction as Leopold handed her into her carriage.

‘I shall be glad to see you at Warwick House,’ she told him.

At which he made another of his solemn bows and stood back to watch the carriage as it drove away.

Cornelia said: ‘Who was that?’

‘His Serene Highness, Leopold of Saxe-Coburg,’ said Charlotte grandly.

‘I see, and he was presented to you by the Duchess, I presume?’

‘He was with the Duchess when I called. Cornelia, don’t you think he is the most handsome man you ever saw?’

‘I think I could be accused of hyperbole if I agreed to that.’

‘I wouldn’t accuse you. Don’t be so stuffy, Cornelia. You must admit he is very charming.’

Cornelia sighed. Was this going to be another Hesse affair?

Charlotte looked at her companion coldly. What had happened to old Notte? She just wanted to spoil everything. She might have agreed that Leopold was handsome. It was so obvious.

How charmingly he had bowed and what an exciting day!

She must find out all about Saxe-Coburg and the ruling family. The Duchess was informative. The House of Saxe-Coburg occupied a small territory of some eight towns and two hundred and seventy villages, and it ruled over less than sixty thousand subjects.

‘Very small,’ commented Charlotte, ‘compared with England … or Holland for that matter.’ Oh yes, Leopold was a minor prince as far as worldly possessions were concerned.

‘But he is a Protestant,’ pointed out the Duchess, ‘and that is in his favour. He is a very serious young man and has proved his courage on the battlefield. His brother Ernest, the reigning Duke, is devoted to him – as are all his family. They constantly sing the praises of their dear young Leopold. He has been such a good son to his widowed mother for he has a strong sense of duty.’

‘It is a quality I greatly admire in a man,’ said Charlotte.

‘My brother, the Tsar, has given him rank in our army. You should see him in his uniform. My dear, it would quite take your breath away.’

Charlotte was almost breathless contemplating the sight of godlike Leopold in the uniform of a Russian general.

‘My brother has a very high opinion of him and presented him on the battlefield with the cross of a Commander of the Military Order of St George.’

‘He is indeed a hero,’ said Charlotte wistfully.

But she was piqued when he did not call at Warwick House.

She had supposed he would accept her invitation without delay and had waited for him expectantly. Every time one of her household came to her, she had hoped that they would announce the arrival of Leopold.

How strange that he should have waited to conduct her to her carriage and then not accept her invitation!

Sometimes driving in the Park she would see him and he always endeavoured to ride near her carriage as though hoping she would notice him.

She did, of course, but she was not going to let him know this. She was hurt with him. She had offered an invitation and it had not been taken up. But if she was angry with him that did not mean she liked him any less.

He was constantly in her thoughts.

One day in the Park he rode near her carriage and lifting her eyes she looked straight into his. On impulse she ordered the coachman to stop.

‘Good day,’ she said coolly. ‘I wonder why, having received an invitation from me, you neglect it.’

Leopold looked startled. He was unused to such direct manners.

He said: ‘Your Highness, I did not understand that it was a formal invitation. I was under the impression that Your Highness was speaking lightly … and merely intended your comment as a kindly gesture.’

‘I always say what I mean.’ She was smiling for he was every bit as handsome as she had been thinking him – and he had scarcely been out of her thoughts since their first meeting.

Cornelia was apprehensive. Charlotte would never behave with necessary decorum. Did she not realize that they were being watched even now and it would very likely be reported to her father that she had been seen chatting in a very friendly manner with one of the insignificant princes of the Tsar’s suite.

Charlotte went on: ‘Well, you know now that I mean what I say, so I will say it again. I shall expect to see you at Warwick House.’

Leopold inclined his head and Charlotte instructed the coachman to drive on.

Cornelia said: ‘Was that wise?’

Charlotte turned on her in anger. ‘What do you mean – wise?’

‘To ask him to come to Warwick House. It was not in accordance with the usual …’

‘Oh Notte, you make me cross. Do stop carping. He will come this time. He won’t be able to avoid it.’

‘Have you realized that you have put him into a very awkward position?’

‘How absurd!’

‘Not absurd at all,’ said Cornelia. ‘The Prince of Saxe-Coburg cannot call at Warwick House unless he has permission from the Regent to do so.’

‘You forget that I am no longer a child. Warwick House is my residence and I shall ask whom I please.’

‘If he called without your father’s permission he could be sent out of the country.’

‘Stuff!’ said Charlotte, and she added: ‘And nonsense too.’

But she was not really angry because she was so looking forward to seeing him.

Leopold’s feelings were very mixed as he rode off and went back to his rooms over a greengrocer’s shop in Marylebone which was all that had been available for him. She was an enchanting creature this Princess Charlotte and obviously interested in him; and her interest made him think of a most exciting possibility. But was it possible? The Duchess Catherine had told him that Charlotte was betrothed to the Prince of Orange and if that were so she was not free. Moreover, would they consider a humble prince of Saxe-Coburg as suitable?

Why not? His family was a noble one; Orange was a sickly creature by all accounts and Charlotte did not like him. Whereas she was naïve enough not to hide her interest in Leopold. Clearly she liked him very much indeed.

Ever since their first meeting he had been turning over in his mind the possibility of calling at Warwick House as she had suggested. How could he who had been brought up in the strict German manner commit such a breach of court etiquette – even though the Princess asked it? If he called without her father’s consent he would never be forgiven.

He was ambitious – and there was something more which influenced him. She was charming; and he would have to marry one day. The future Queen of England! He felt almost giddy at the prospect. But it was hopeless. Nothing was hopeless. What about Orange? Something which had glinted in the Grand Duchess Catherine’s eyes when she talked of Charlotte’s future had made him feel that Orange might not be an obstacle after all. Catherine was one of the cleverest women he knew and fortunately she did not dislike him; and for some reason she would like to substitute another bridegroom for Orange.

How could she – a visitor to this land – alter the plans which the rulers had laid down for their princess? And yet …

Leopold was aware of his good looks. There were not many princes who were tall, slim and handsome, brave, serious and Protestant.

What a chance! What a dizzy prospect! He could not spoil it right at the start by behaving in a manner which would make that important gentleman, that arbiter of manners, the Prince Regent, dismiss him as a boor.

There was the Duke of York, affable, approachable, always ready to help a good soldier. Suppose he told the Duke of York of his predicament and asked his advice. The idea was an excellent one and he begged for an audience without delay.

The Duke received him with pleasure; he had heard of his exploits in the army and congratulated him on his decoration by the Tsar.

Leopold then told the reason for his call and begged the Duke of York to tell him what he should do.

The Duke stuck out his heavy jaw thoughtfully. ‘There is only one thing you can do, my dear fellow,’ he said, ‘and that is to write to the Regent, tell him what has happened and request his permission to call on the Princess.’

‘It is what I thought should be done,’ replied Leopold, ‘and I will lose no time in doing it.’

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.’