Jean Plaidy: The Regent's Daughter

‘Friends. Of course they have friends. Everyone has friends … I hope.’

‘Rather special friends, Your Highness. And with special friends there are sometimes … results.’

‘Results? What results?’

‘Your Highness always disliked the boy. Your Highness said more than once that he was a vulgar little brat.’

‘You mean … my mother’s adopted boy?’

‘I did mean William Austin, Your Highness.’

‘What has he to do with this?’

‘Everything.’

Charlotte was puzzled.

Mrs Udney put her face close to Charlotte’s and all her fine manners had suddenly gone. ‘Some are saying that the Princess of Wales did not adopt the boy. They are saying that he is her own.’

‘That he is my father’s son! How silly. If he were …’ The enormity of the possibility overwhelmed her.

Mrs Udney went on: ‘Oh, no, not the son of the Prince of Wales. There were plenty of other gentlemen ready to be the … friend of Her Highness.’

Charlotte did not fully understand but she knew that was some fearful slander against her mother. How dared this … this creature stand there looking so sly and knowing … yes, and pleased .

The ungovernable temper of which Dr Nott and Lady de Clifford despaired was in the ascendant.

Charlotte brought up her right hand sharply and gave Mrs Udney a stinging blow across the cheek.

Then, appalled by what she had done and what she had heard, she ran out of the room.

Mrs Udney could not allow such treatment to pass and immediately reported it to Lady de Clifford.

‘Why, Mrs Udney,’ cried her ladyship, ‘what on earth has happened?’

Mrs Udney’s eyes were blazing with fury and there was a red mark on her cheek.

‘Her Royal Highness has just seen fit to slap my face.’

Lady de Clifford put her hand to her eyes. ‘Oh, no, no! How could this have happened?’

‘Madam came into my bedchamber in a mood. She fired a few questions at me, was not pleased by my answers; then she rose and slapped my face like a vulgar fishwife.’

‘Where does she learn such manners?’

‘Where could she but at Montague House?’

‘I greatly fear she is growing like her mother. Oh dear, if only she were a little more like the dear Prince.’

‘I pray she does not behave as her mother does.’ Mrs Udney’s fury was diminished slightly by a certain gleeful pleasure at the prospect. ‘Then there would be ructions at Carlton House and Windsor as well.’

‘I beg of you, Mrs Udney, do not even suggest such a thing.’

‘I believe she has heard something of what is happening.’

‘Do you think she could?’

‘Everyone is talking about the Investigation and the general belief is that William Austin is the Princess’s little bastard by Sir Sidney Smith or Captain Manby or Lawrence the painter. Young Willikins cannot be said to lack a father, although his actual identity is unknown.’

‘Mrs Udney, I beg of you. But I shall have to tell the Bishop of the Princess’s behaviour. I really cannot have her actually laying hands on those who serve her.’

‘I sincerely hope she has discovered nothing,’ said Mrs Udney piously, ‘for who knows how she might romance about the affair. She does not always keep to the truth. Do you not think it is better to refrain from mentioning anything that might remind her of her mother and the life she leads at Montague House?’

‘I do indeed,’ sighed Lady de Clifford.

At least, thought Mrs Udney, they would not broach the subject, and if Charlotte were reprimanded for slapping the face of one of her attendants she would not tell the reason why since it concerned her mother.

Mrs Udney was sure that she could explain what had happened and do no harm to herself.

She went back to Mrs Campbell and told her that the Princess was becoming unmanageable and this was her mother coming out in her. Dr Fisher, Bishop of Salisbury, was pacing up and down the room waiting for his pupil to arrive.

When she came he was immediately aware of her defiant looks. So she guessed that news of her misdemeanour had reached him.

Smug, pompous, looking self-righteous he suggested that they should pray together for humility.

‘Humility?’ demanded Charlotte. ‘Is that a good quality for a princess to have?’

‘It is a good quality for us all to have, Your Highness. And particularly princesses.’

‘Bishops too, Bish-Up?’

‘For us all,’ replied the Bishop. ‘Those of us who are in positions of authority – or who are being trained for such – must remember it especially. Pride is one of the greatest of sins. One of the seven most deadly.’

‘So humility must be one of the virtues – or do they not go in opposites? Perhaps it is possible to have humility and pride. One changes, you know, Bish-Up. I do. I am sure that sometimes I am very, very humble. Yet I can be proud.’

He put the palms of his hands together and raised his eyes to the ceiling. His most pious attitude! thought Charlotte. This means he is very shocked about something and of course it is my slapping Udney’s face. Serve her right.

‘Proud, overbearing, hot-tempered and behaving in an unseemly manner. Lady de Clifford is alarmed at your inability to control your temper.’

‘It’s true, Bish-Up. It flares up and flies out … and then it is all gone. Almost as soon as I have done something quite dreadful I begin to feel sorry. That must be the old humility creeping in. I told you, did I not, that one can have the deadliest of sin side by side with a lovely virtue.’

‘Being sorry afterwards is not enough.’

‘Oh, I know one is supposed to suffer for one’s sins. I never liked the thought of that very much. If anyone did me a wrong and then was very sorry I should want to say “Forget it” and make it as though it had never been.’

‘That might not be God’s way.’

‘I didn’t say it was. I said it was my way. And I happen to think it’s a good way.’

The Bishop sighed. ‘I despair,’ he murmured.

‘Now you should never despair, Bish-Up. That’s bad. It’s almost as bad as losing your temper. You should always hope. You should be like Queen Elizabeth. Think of all that time when she was in prison and never knew from one day to another whether she was going to lose her head. But she went on hoping and in the end the crown was hers. I should wish to be like her in a way … when she was good. But she could be very wicked.’ Charlotte laughed. ‘Perhaps that’s what I like about her. Bish-Up, do you think she had a hand in the murder of Amy Robsart?’

‘We are not discussing the conduct of Queen Elizabeth but that of the Princess Charlotte.’

‘Oh, we are discussing my conduct. I thought we were discussing sins and virtues. And I thought we all had those.’

‘You acted violently towards one of your servants, I am told.’

‘Hardly violently. She said something I did not like so I slapped her face.’

‘And do you think that was becoming conduct for a princess?’

‘It was most unbecoming not only for a princess but for anyone. It would even have been so with a bishop.’

‘We are discussing an act which you have performed, not the suppositious conduct of others.’

‘Well, to tell the truth, Bish-Up, I lost my temper. You know what my temper is like. She displeased me … violently, so I slapped her … far less violently than she displeased me, I do assure you.’

‘You did not stop to think. I have had to reprove you on other occasions for the quickness of your temper.’

‘It’s true, Bish-Up.’

‘And have I not told you what you should do when you feel one of those uncontrollable fits of rage? How many times have I told you to repeat the Lord’s Prayer to yourself when these occasions arise? “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those that trespass against us.”’