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Authors: Cheyenne

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‘Pray do not speak in that way, daughter.’

‘So I may not even speak as I will!’ Her eyes flashed with sudden rage. ‘I will

not endure this treatment, I tell you. I will make my own life I will go and find him— I will renounce your precious royalty for the sake of love.’

Madame de Hertzfeldt had returned; she was carrying a cup. ‘Caroline,’ she

said, ‘you know you have my sympathy. Pray, do as I say.’

‘What is that?’

‘Drink this. It will help you to sleep for a while. You are distraught; and

when you have recovered a little from this shock you may talk with your father.’

For a moment it seemed as though Caroline would dash the cup out of

Madame de Hertzfeldt’s hand; then that tactful woman said, ‘You will feel

calmer. You may be able to convert him to your ideas— or even accept his.’

The hopelessness of her situation was brought home to

Caroline. The

walls of the apartment seemed to close in upon her. Shut in, she thought,

imprisoned in royalty.

————————

The Princess Caroline was ill. She would eat nothing; she could not sleep. She

lay hollow-eyed in her bed.

She had received a letter from Major von Töbingen in which he said goodbye

to her. He begged her to accept their separation which in his heart he had known

was inevitable from the beginning. She must not try to find him, for even if she

did— which was not possible— he could not marry her. To do so would be an act

of treason, she must realize that. He would never forget her. He would love her

until he died
if she would occasionally think of him with tenderness that was all he would ask of life.

She wept bitterly over the letter and kept it under her pillow to read again and

again The dream of love and marriage with the man of her, choice was over. She

was listless‚ and they feared for her life.

It gave her a savage pleasure to see their concern. Her father came to her room

each day, he was very tender. If there was anything she wished for— except that

one thing which was all she wanted— she might have it.

‘Nothing, nothing,’ she murmured and turned her face the wall.

But she was grieved to see his unhappiness. He had been a good father to her;

and she loved him.

For his sake she ate a little and tried to feel resigned. And‚ after a while she

was well enough to leave her bed.

The Duke suggested a change of scene and she left Court for a while and

when she returned she was a little more like her old exuberant self.

But when Prince George of Darmstadt made an offer for her hand she refused

him.

‘Although I am not allowed to choose,’ she said firmly, ‘at least I am

permitted to reject.’

The Miracle

SHE was twenty-six. It was said of her: ‘She will never marry now.’

She began to think so herself. She was often in the houses of her father’s

subjects; if a new baby was about to be born she expressed great interest; and

each day she drove out to visit
her children
.

She often thought of Major von Töbingen and wondered whether he had

married; the thought of his being the father of lovely children was almost

unbearable. Perhaps she had been foolish; since they would not let her have the

man she loved, it might have been wise to have taken one of those whom they

thought were so suitable. She might at least have had her baby by now.

She was more subdued than she had been. The affair with Major von

Töbingen had changed her. It did not worry her that there was scandal about her

and that many malicious people said that she was unmarried because she had led

an immoral life. They credited— or discredited— her with having given birth to

at least two illegitimate children and they quoted as proof the occasion of the ball when the
accoucheur
had come to the Palace and the time when she had left Court after the Töbingen affair. What did she care? She had grown listless about

such matters.

All the same she was weary of life at Brunswick. She was fond of her father,

it was true; but she was conscious of her mother’s jealousy of Madame de

Hertzfeldt and the latter’s toleration of the Duchess. It was an uneasy situation at the best and Caroline could enjoy no satisfactory relationship with either of them.

She began to grow a little morbid
. I shall end my days at Brunswick,
she thought,
always longing for the children I never had. I have been a fool. I should
have accepted marriage with one of the men who were offered to me.

Then the miracle happened.

Her father sent for her one day and all unsuspecting she went to him to find

her mother present. The Duke looked very solemn; the Duchess was needing all

the little restraint she possessed to prevent herself shouting the news to her

daughter.

But it was the Duke’s place to acquaint his daughter with the news and this he

did. ‘Caroline, I have something of great importance to tell you. I think it is very good news. I have a letter here from your uncle the King of England. The Prince

of Wales is asking for your hand in marriage.’

‘The Prince of Wales!’ A great joy came to her. She thought:
I am not too late
then. I waited and now I have the biggest prize.

‘It is a great honour,’ said the Duke. ‘Of course, the Prince is your first cousin and this is an opportunity which I am sure you will not want to miss.’

‘Of course you will not want to miss it.’ The Duchess could contain her

excitement no longer. ‘Think of it, Caroline, you’ll be the Queen of England.

Imagine it. You— Caroline— a Queen!’

‘Yes,’ said Caroline slowly, ‘if I married him I should one day be Queen of

England.’

Her father looked at her almost fearfully. He laid a hand on her shoulder and

looked into those eyes which could suddenly grow so wild. ‘I would never wish to

be rid of you or to send you away,’ he said gently. ‘But if you wish to marry,

daughter, you will never have an opportunity like this again.’

‘It’s true, Father,’ she said.

‘You realize it, do you not?’ cried the Duchess. ‘Oh, the Prince of Wales! My

dear, dear nephew! The First Gentleman of Europe. I have heard that he is the

most fascinating creature. And handsome— so handsome! Caroline, you are the

luckiest of young women— and when you think that you will soon be twenty-

seven. It is a God-given chance. I think I should write to my brother at once. I

think there should be no delay. I think—’

‘Madam,’ said the Duke coldly, ‘it is Caroline who is to marry— not

yourself.’

The Duchess opened her mouth to protest. It was humiliating— the way in

which she was treated. And before her children too. He would never speak like

that to the Hertzfeldt woman. Oh, no, her advice would be sought— and

considered.

She flashed her husband a look of hatred, of which Caroline was acutely

aware. It would be pleasant to get right away.

‘My dear,’ said the Duke, ‘you need time to consider.’

‘I have considered,’ said Caroline. ‘I will accept the Prince of Wales.’

The Duchess was clasping her hands in ecstasy. The Duke looked relieved. As

for Caroline she stood very still, in a mood of rare calmness.

‘My child,’ said the Duke, ‘you have made a wise decision.’

She looked at him steadily and then threw herself into his arms. His sternness

relaxed and he held her tightly. The Duchess looked on but she was not thinking

of them; she was seeing the wedding preparations; the marriage; and she was

exulting because this difficult daughter who had been such a trial to them was

now going to be the Princess of Wales.

————————

Caroline returned to her apartments and found there the Baroness de Bode

who had realized that something of great importance was afoot and since she had

seen the messengers from England, she guessed it might be an offer of marriage

for the Princess.

Caroline said: ‘Well, you have come to hear the news.’

‘I trust it is good news.’

‘That,’ replied Caroline, ‘I shall not be able to tell you until I am on my

deathbed.’

‘What does Your Highness mean?’

‘That only at the end of a marriage can one say whether it was good or bad.’

‘Marriage!’

‘Now do not look so surprised because you are not in the least. You guessed it

was an offer, did you not?’

‘From England?’

‘How strange that everyone should be more excited about my wedding than I

am.’

‘Pray tell me which of the sons of the King of England.’

‘The eldest, Madam. You should not be shouting questions at me in this

manner. Rather you should be treating the future Princess of Wales and Queen of

England with the greatest respect.’

‘Then it is indeed? Oh, what a great day this is!’

‘You are all to be relieved of the presence of your tiresome Princess.’

‘I did not mean that. I meant that it was an excellent prospect. Oh, Your

Highness, you will— take care. You will always remember to profit from your

past mistakes.’

The Princess regarded her governess slyly. ‘What is gone is gone,’ she said.

‘It will never return; and what is to come will come of itself, whatever I do.’

The Baroness was about to protest when Caroline held up her hand.

‘I want to be by myself to think,’ she said. ‘I have accepted the Prince of

Wales whom I have never seen but of whom I have heard much. I have accepted

him because I am so tired of my life at Brunswick.’

‘Your Highness—’

The Princess shook her head. ‘I am catching at the crown and sceptre as a

drowning wretch catches at a straw.’

‘Do not speak so. It is dangerous— If it were to reach the Prince’s ears—’

‘The Prince of Wales.’ Caroline was laughing suddenly, the old wild laughter.

‘He has never seen me— yet he will take me for his wife. Don’t you think,

Baroness, that his feelings about this marriage will be similar to mine?’

The Baroness was silent.

Caroline cried: ‘Don’t let us be so glum. This is a time for rejoicing. The

Princess of Brunswick is now about to be betrothed to the Prince of Wales.’

————————

Frederick, Duke of York, called on the Prince of Wales at Carlton House,

where he was received in the Prince’s apartments overlooking St. James’s Park.

The Prince was elegantly clad in a coat of pearl grey, the diamond star

flashing on his left breast; his buckskin breeches fitted tightly to his shapely if somewhat plump legs; his neck-cloth was a masterpiece of artistry of blue and

grey tints worn in the fashion he himself had made because of a slight swelling in his neck; his abundant fair hair was frizzed and curled; his white shapely fingers were adorned not ostentatiously but noticeably with diamonds; and his entire

person smelled of a delicately applied fragrance.

‘Now, Fred,’ said the Prince, ‘I want the truth. What is she like?’

Frederick thought back to those visits he had paid to the Brunswick Court, and

tried to remember his cousin Caroline. Quite pretty, he had thought; he had not

wanted to marry her, but would it have been such a tragedy? He could not have

done worse than he had. When he thought of the woman with whom he had

blithely entered into matrimony for, the same reason of course that George was

compelled to contemplate it now— debts— any woman seemed attractive.

‘She’s a pretty creature, as far as I remember.’

‘Yet you might have married her and did not.’

‘Pray don’t talk to me about marriage— mine at least. It’s been a fiasco from

start to finish.’

‘You seem to have arranged matters to your satisfaction, I notice.’

‘Merely by refusing to live with the creature.’

‘And since,’ said the Prince, ‘you have chosen to do this and there is therefore

no hope of your marriage proving fruitful, I am forced to consider my obligations to the State.’

Frederick laughed. ‘You’ll admit, George, that it is your concern rather than

mine.’

‘I thought one of you might have taken on the task.’

‘With a woman who turns the house into a zoo. I tell you this, George,

Oatlands Park is no longer a human habitation. It’s one big cage of animals.

Bitches with their puppies in the beds; monkeys climbing the banisters; parrots

screeching. It’s a nightmare George. And the fleas―and the smells―’

‘Spare me,’ begged the Prince, taking a white-laced edged kerchief from his

pocket and holding it to his nose as he sniffed its fragrance.

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