Victoria in the Wings: (Georgian Series) Read Free Page B

she had thought him so handsome; she remembered when he had presented her to his parents – he so tall, she so short. What an ordeal that had been, for she had no illusions about her appearance and her new family were so critical. Smallpox had spoiled her skin and her teeth were brown and uneven but her fair hair and blue eyes had been pleasant. She had been over-elaborately dressed, with her hair piled too high and set with diamonds, and what she remembered most from that occasion were the cold eyes of her mother-in-law, Queen Charlotte, and the silver foil frills on her sleeves which were uncomfortably itchy.
    But that was years ago, when the revolution had been raging in France and they had come near to being killed as they passed through that country and were recognized by the mob for royalists. Only the calm courage of the Duke had saved them. How she had admired him then! He was at his best at such moments – the true soldier, indifferent to danger. But ordinary domestic life oddly enough was more difficult than facing a mob of revolutionaries and she had quickly realized what a failure the marriage was.
    They had quarrelled; she had failed to produce the desired heir; they had parted, they had lived their own lives and in time come to friendship.
    This had been strengthened at the time of the Mary Anne Clarke scandal when she had left Oatlands to stand by him; and while he was facing a serious charge and was dismissed from his post it was his wife who had been with him, comforting him,disappointing the lampoon writers – for of what use was a faithful wife to them?
    Now Frederick embraced her in the usual cool but friendly manner and they went into the house together.
    ‘The poor child,’ said Frederica, ‘the poor, poor child!’
    ‘I would not have believed it possible,’ murmured the Duke.
    ‘It is always possible. But she was so young, so full of vitality. How is the Regent taking it?’
    ‘Badly.’
    ‘Ah, poor George. Perhaps he reproaches himself.’
    The Duke looked surprised. He, who always took his cue from his brother, was now ready to believe that the Regent had been devoted to his daughter and she to him. Frederica was more realistic. Everyone knew of the stormy conflicts which had raged between the Regent and his daughter. Death did not change that.
    ‘At least,’ went on the Duchess, ‘she married the man she loved. Oh, it was good to see them together. She was happy … at the end. Perhaps it is the way to die … at the peak of happiness. My dear, dear Charlotte! It grieves me that she will no longer come bounding across the lawns in the way she did. What a mother she would have made! I always used to think of her with many many children, though not as many as your mother had …’
    ‘God forbid,’ interrupted the Duke, remembering the necessity to curb Frederica’s flow which if allowed to would go on for an hour. It was one of the traits which had made it impossible to live with her. ‘But, Frederica, what I have come to talk to you about is my brothers.’
    ‘Ah yes, yes. They will have to marry now. They will understand this. They will not need to be told. It is obvious. Our darling Charlotte gone … No hope of the direct line. It is the duty of one of your brothers. If the King died and the Regent became King George IV and he died, you, Frederick, would be King.’
    ‘God forbid,’ said the Duke again, for his conversation was inclined to be repetitive and he relied to a great extent on overworked expletives.
    ‘It would break your heart, poor Frederick, because you could only be King if George died and you have always loved him dearly. I have heard him say often that you are his favourite brother. No,you would not be happy as King. And what of me? I should have to leave Oatlands and all my darling, darling children. What would they do without me?’ She patted the head of one of the darling children – a soulful-eyed spaniel which had leaped on to her lap when she sat