Jean Plaidy: The Regent's Daughter

Hot, rather suffocating embraces, not always very fragrant. Mamma did not like bathing and her women found it very difficult to make her change her clothes. ‘Come along in, my sweetest.’ Arms entwined, into the drawing room, which was not really like a royal drawing room.

‘We are having a special entertainment for you, my darling. Oh, not a silly children’s party. You would not like that. And no ceremonies, eh? Enough of them with de old Begum, and de bulls and cows.’ Mamma laughed wildly. ‘Bulls and cows’ was Charlotte’s own name for her numerous uncles and aunts which, in a careless moment, she had whispered to her mother. The Princess of Wales loved laughing at the family into which she had married. And it was not surprising, for they all hated her and had been most unkind to her, with the exception of the King, of course. Dear Grandpapa would never be unkind to anyone. And there was another secret. She had long been aware of how everyone watched him as though expecting him to do something odd. She often wondered what. Perhaps it was to die – but that was not so very odd. Dear Grandpapa, she wanted him to go on living for a long, long time. She would tell him so. Oh no, she would not, because then he wondered whether anyone had discussed his death before her.

How careful one has to be in a family like ours, thought Charlotte.

She was shut in by people who watched her all the time because she was an heir to the throne. The only thing that could prevent her attaining it, as far as she could see, would be the birth of a brother to her parents. And that was most unlikely.

She did love some of these people who surrounded her – Dr Nott, for one. Well, hardly loved, but she was fond of him. Perhaps the two she loved most were her dressers Mrs Gagarin and Miss Louisa Lewis. They were comforting as one imagined mothers might be. They scolded in a tender way which pleased her so much that she often behaved in such a way as to provoke their reproaches.

But she did not talk to them of what happened at her mother’s house. She was aware when they accompanied her there of their silent disapproval. Mamma never gave them a thought. She never altered anything because they were there. At the entertainments she gave she laughed wildly as she ran about playing Blind Man’s Buff, her eyes bandaged, her arms outstretched, and she always caught one of the gentlemen and the forfeit for being caught was a kiss. There was always a great deal of kissing going on at Mamma’s parties and there were always plenty of bluff hearty gentlemen living in the house, it seemed. They were very courteous to Charlotte although they did not kiss her – only when there was a forfeit in the games in which she joined.

Her mother’s house was quite different from anything she had ever known – or was likely to.

There was a sailor whom everyone called Sir Sydney – and wherever he was, there was lots of gaiety; he was constantly chasing and kissing the ladies; but he could tell a good adventure story of how brave he was. Charlotte particularly liked the one in which he defended Saint Jean d’Acre.

Mamma used to listen, her eyes alight with pleasure.

‘One of these days,’ she said, ‘I shall sail round the world. Will you come with me, my precious?’

Charlotte had replied that she would like to but she thought that, since she would one day be Queen of England, her place would be at home.

That made her mother screech with laughter. ‘You see, Sydney, they are making a queen of her already.’

Strange Montague House, where everything was so different from what it was at Windsor or Carlton House. But perhaps it was Mamma who was so strange that she would transform any place where she was and even Kew would become strange if she lived there.

She had not realized how interested she was in the manner in which life was lived at Montague House until she was not able to go there.

It is excuses all the time. Well, I am going to find out, she promised herself.

Who would tell her? Mrs Gagarin and Louisa Lewis she had hoped, but however much she tried to worm it out of them they would not tell her. They had such a stern sense of their own duty.

Her thoughts went to Mrs Udney, who, with Mrs Campbell, was attached to the household as assistant governess. Charlotte was quite fond of Mrs Campbell, though she was rather a colourless woman always talking about her family connection with the de Cliffords – and it was no doubt due to this that she had been given the post. Mrs Udney was of a different nature. There was something about Mrs Udney which Charlotte did not like. She was rather good-looking, with charming manners, so that one took to her at first and then began to wonder. Charlotte had seen her fly into a sudden temper, which was something with which Charlotte could sympathize, but then she did not pretend to be so calm and gentle. She had heard Mrs Udney sniggering with Mrs Campbell, and when she was aware of the Princess’s attention she would smother her sniggers. Charlotte could not help wondering what it was that brought that expression to her face until one day she discovered that it was the affairs of the Princess of Wales.

There were, of course, many rumours; and she did hear of them at her mother’s house where one could read the papers and see the cartoons. But she believed that even her mother might keep some from her; and these would probably be the ones she most wanted to see.

Mrs Udney would be in the Princess’s bedchamber at this time putting her clothes away and setting out what she would wear for her audience with her grandmother and aunts. So to her bedchamber went Charlotte and there as she had expected she found Mrs Udney alone.

‘I thought you’d be here, Mrs Udney,’ said Charlotte, coming straight to the point. She sat down on the bed and bounced up and down on it while Mrs Udney put her head on one side and regarded her with amusement.

‘I want to know why I do not go to Montague House,’ said Charlotte bluntly.

‘Because Your Highness is at Windsor.’

‘As I am not a child, Mrs Udney, I would prefer you did not treat me as such.’

Mrs Udney inclined her head by way of apology. Oh yes, thought Charlotte, there is something about her which I do not like.

‘I command you to answer my questions,’ she said imperiously. ‘Do you know why I am not allowed to go to Montague House? A plain yes or no, please.’

‘Why … yes, Your Highness.’

‘Then pray tell me.’

‘Your Highness, I might be exceeding my duty.’

‘Your duty to whom?’

‘Those who place me in my responsible position.’

Charlotte coaxed: ‘Oh come now, please tell me. I do want to know. And why shouldn’t I? It concerns me, does it not?’

‘It does, Your Highness.’ Mrs Udney’s little pink tongue licked her lips and she really looked as though she found this rather to her taste. ‘Your Highness would not tell tales of me.’

‘Tales of you? Whatever for?’

‘If I were to talk of this matter it might be frowned on.’

‘I have told you I will frown if you do not.’

Mrs Udney came close to the bed and said: ‘You know all is not well between the Prince and Princess. You know they do not … live together.’

‘Of course I know this. The Prince lives at Carlton House and Brighton; and my mother is at Montague House; and if she comes to London she stays at Kensington Palace.’

‘I mean they do not live … as husband and wife. Your Highness understands?’

‘I understand p … perfectly,’ declared Charlotte, stammering a little because it was one of those lies which Dr Nott deplored.

‘But that does not prevent their having other … friends.’ Mrs Udney’s smile was sly; Charlotte felt that it was distasteful in some way but she was not sure why.