A Princely Dilemma (5 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Kester was directed to one of the withdrawing rooms where he found Linnet waiting for him alone.

‘Are you ready to leave?’

‘If you please, sir.’

He offered his arm and murmured, ‘Wait until we are private.’

She nodded.

Together they traversed the corridors and finally reached the courtyard where their coachman was waiting. Kester handed her up and leapt in beside her. A footman closed the door, got up behind and the coach started.

‘What do you think?’ he asked.

She sighed. ‘I think, if the prince would but be polite, and…and not flaunt his mistress in her face, that she would at least try to be conciliatory, but—’

‘There’s little chance of that,’ said Kester. He took her gloved hand and held it. ‘You are a very lucky bride. You know that, don’t you?’

She looked at him with that glimmering smile he had seen for the first time last night. ‘Oh?’

‘Yes. If I behaved like Prinny, Louisa would beat me bloody for you!’

The smile deepened. ‘Behave like that, my lord duke, and Louisa will have to stand in line.’

Wednesday evening, April 8, 1795

Linnet, Duchess of Severn, sat alone in her pew, watching as others of the nobility crowded into the Chapel Royal. Further along the pew other guests glanced at her surreptitiously, then turned away with ill-concealed smiles and shrugs.

‘Trade’
, she heard whispered.
‘Severn’s heiress.’
None of them spoke to her.

She assumed Kester would rejoin her when he could, but the Princess Caroline was already waiting at the altar, chatting merrily to the gentleman that a kindly middle-aged lady seated behind Linnet had said was William, Duke of Clarence.

The lady leaned forward again. ‘Do you know where Severn has gone?’

Linnet shook her head. She and Kester had barely sat down when a very handsome gentleman in regimentals, younger than herself, had come to murmur in Kester’s ear and escort him out.

‘I’m Lady Blake,’ said the middle-aged lady. ‘This—’ she prodded the elderly gentleman dozing beside her ‘—is Blake. Obviously you are Severn’s bride. Permit me to wish you very happy. Louisa Farnsworth told me all about you. She says it’s an excellent match.’

Linnet blushed. ‘Thank you.’

Lady Blake gave her a tap on the shoulder. ‘You’d better look forward, my dear.’

The princess had broken off her chatter to Prince William and was staring straight at Linnet, her head cocked to one side. As Linnet looked towards her, she smiled broadly, raised a gloved hand and waved. Then turned back to her conversation. Further along Linnet’s pew there were more stares, and murmurs of astonishment.

Lady Blake nodded. ‘There. She saw you. I hear you gave Frances Jersey her own again the other day. Good for you. Any woman who can give
her
a set…’

Linnet lost track of what she was saying. A tall, familiar figure was hurrying down the nave towards her, hat tucked under his arm.

Lady Blake broke off and glanced over her shoulder. ‘Ah. There he is. Just in time.’

And he was there, slipping into the seat beside her, reaching for her hand. ‘Lady Blake,’ he said with a smile. ‘How do you do?’

‘Very well, Severn,’ said her ladyship. ‘I’ve presented myself to your bride. Congratulations. Your mother is an idiot. Bring your bride to see me tomorrow. Blake!’ She sat back in her seat, giving her husband a hearty nudge in the ribs. ‘Wake up, do, Theodore!’

‘Hmmph! What? Just had my eyes shut for a moment. Too bright in here!’

‘Is everything all right?’ asked Linnet softly, turning to her husband.

Kester grimaced. ‘I have to tell you, you nearly got Roxburghe to sit beside you.’

‘Roxburghe?’

‘Duke thereof,’ said Kester in a very low voice. ‘Prinny is as drunk as a wheelbarrow. Roxburghe and Bedford are supposed to be supporting him in his ordeal, but he decided at the last minute that nothing would do but that
I
had to uphold him. Literally. That’s why young Brummell came to fetch me.’

‘But you’re here.’

‘He was talked out of it. Tradition decrees bachelors. Probably Roxburghe is wishing
he
was married right now. Good Lord! What is the princess wearing?’

Lady Blake leaned forward. ‘What her grandmother wore for
her
wedding day by the look of things. The queen’s idea, I understand. And of course Frances Jersey backed her up—anything to make the poor girl look like a dowd!’

Kester rolled his eyes. ‘Linnet, don’t let my mother tell you what to wear. Ever. Listen to Louisa instead. Even if I do find her suggestions distracting.’

Brass and the organ sounded and the entire congregation turned at the entrance of the prince.

His Royal Highness looked terrible. Almost, Linnet thought, as if he had been crying. Unthinking, her hand stole out, seeking… At once it was taken in a firm grasp. She let out a breath. Kester moved a little closer, sheltering her. Reassuring her. Whatever the outcome of this royal marriage, theirs was going to be happy.

At the altar the bishop began the service. ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together…’

‘That’s Moore,’ murmured Kester. ‘Archbishop of Canterbury.’

The archbishop’s voice rolled on, intoning the prayers. ‘…and therefore is not by any to be enterprised, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly—’

The prince rose to his feet jerkily, looking around in what appeared to be desperation. A murmur rippled through the chapel, as though a great beast stirred, sniffing a meal.

‘Heaven help us,’ breathed Kester. Linnet tensed. What was the prince doing? Surely he wasn’t going to leave! The king came forward, spoke quietly, and the prince sat down again, his head lowered. Linnet felt sick. What must the princess be feeling at this display?

The service continued without hitch. Until they reached the part about just causes…and the archbishop’s voice slowed. ‘Therefore if any man can show any just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.’ He stopped, and laid down his book, gazing, it appeared, at the king.

‘What the devil is Moore about?’ came a gentleman’s voice from behind them.

There was a snort. ‘Making quite sure, if you ask me.’

Linnet thought that was Lord Blake, because she heard a woman saying, ‘Shut up, Theodore! You’re in church!’

After a moment His Grace of Canterbury continued, apparently reassured.

But it seemed he still had doubts when they reached the Prince of Wales’s vows. ‘…and forsaking all other, keep thee
only
unto her, as long as ye both shall live?’

‘I do.’ The prince’s response sounded as though it had been obtained under torture, and the archbishop laid down his book again.

Beside her, Linnet felt Kester stiffen.

The archbishop repeated the question. Murmurs sprang up again, nearly drowning the prince’s response.

Kester leaned down to her. ‘He’s not taking any chances, is he?’

Behind them someone was heard to say, ‘I’d wager Moore’s risking a second murder in his cathedral at this rate. Damned impertinence!’

After a moment the marriage continued to the end without further sensation. The ring was given and accepted, the blessing pronounced and, for better or worse, the Prince of Wales and Princess Caroline were husband and wife.

Chapter Fifteen

‘I’m telling you, Severn, he scarce spoke to her at all on the way here from the chapel,’ said the Duke of Leeds.’ They were squeezed into a corner of the drawing room in St James’s Palace at the reception. Leeds shook his head. ‘I was right in front of them. And she’s really quite amiable. I can’t understand him!’ He smiled at Linnet. ‘Anyway, Lady Severn, a pleasure to meet you, and it’s plain to see that Severn here is happy. You will excuse me? I’d best return to the, er,
other
happy couple.’ With a bow, he left them.

‘They aren’t going to be happy, are they?’ said Linnet very quietly, watching the princess. Kester followed her gaze. The princess seemed in high gig, chatting and laughing. Beside her, the Prince of Wales looked like a man about to face his own execution. Even as Kester watched, she spoke to her husband. Politely. Cheerfully. His Royal Highness turned away, his gaze seeking and finding Lady Jersey.

Kester gritted his teeth. Impossible that the princess had not understood what happened during the ceremony, but apparently she was going to try.…

He sighed. ‘Probably not. But we are, aren’t we?’

His bride looked up, her eyes wondering. ‘Yes. Because you’re far too honourable to treat your wife like that.’

His heart twisted. ‘Honourable? Perhaps. And no, I’d never insult my wife, no matter how I felt about her. But I have to tell you, love makes all the difference between duty and joy.’

She became very still, but her hand on his arm trembled. ‘Love, my lord?’

He nodded. ‘Yes. Love. You are my wife, Linnet. My duchess. Will you be my love also?’

‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, yes.’

Author Note

Anyone who knows anything about Regency England probably knows that the marriage of George, Prince of Wales, to Princess Caroline Amelia Elizabeth of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel in April 1795 was an unmitigated disaster. Forced by the king into a legal marriage so that Parliament would clear his debts, when he had already contracted an illegal marriage to the Catholic widow Maria Fitzherbert, the prince married his first cousin without ever having laid eyes on her until three days before the wedding.

Princess Caroline’s arrival in England, the cousins’ first meeting and the wedding ceremony are as I have described them, and Lord Malmesbury was a real person and where possible I have used his own words, or a close approximation. Frances, Lady Jersey, was the prince’s mistress at the time and she was appointed as lady-in-waiting. Everything else is fiction, although as historically accurate as I can make it.

Readers who would like to know more about the marriage and Caroline of Brunswick may like to consult Flora Fraser’s excellent biography,
The Unruly Queen
, as I have done.
The Disastrous Marriage
, by Joanna Richardson, also has useful information, if taking perhaps a rather romanticised view of the Prince of Wales’s frequent to-ings and fro-ings between mistresses! My story covers only the three days between the first meeting of the cousins and their marriage. More than enough time for Kester, Duke of Severn, to sort out his own marital difficulties and convince his bride that he wants more than just her money.

Elizabeth Rolls

On April 29
^th
2011 the world will be waiting with bated breath for Prince William and Kate Middleton to say ‘I do’!

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King Richard and Princess Berengaria, 1191

Prince Charming in Disguise by Bronwyn Scott

Prince George and Caroline of Ansbach, 1704

A Princely Dilemma by Elizabeth Rolls

George, Prince of Wales (future Prince Regent/George IV) and Princess Caroline of Brunswick, 1795

The Problem with Josephine by Lucy Ashford

Napoleon and Archduchess Marie-Louise of Austria, 1810

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Award-winning author
Elizabeth Rolls
lives in the Adelaide Hills of South Australia with her husband, two soccer-mad sons, two dogs and a cat. She also has four alpacas and two incredibly fat sheep, all gainfully employed as environmentally sustainable lawnmowers. Elizabeth has what most people would consider far too many books, and her tea and coffee habit is legendary. She enjoys reading, walking, cooking, and her husband’s gardening. Elizabeth loves to hear from readers, and invites you to contact her via e-mail at [email protected] and visit her website at http://www.elizabethrolls.com

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A Princely Dilemma

Copyright © 2011 by Elizabeth Rolls

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