What, he asked himself in exasperation, could a man do in such circumstances? It was too embarrassing to be spoken of— but warned she must be, for no sooner was she taken into His Highness’s presence than he would be aware of her lack of cleanliness.

He could no longer delay and however delicate the matter must find some way of making the Princess aware of what offence she would cause.

The opportunity came when he was talking to her after dinner.

‘The Prince is a most fastidious gentleman,’ he explained, ‘and pays great attention to his toilette.’

‘So I have heard. Diamond buckles on his shoes! He invented a buckle of his own, I was told, and when he first took his seat in the House of Lords he wore satin and spangles. What a sight he must have been!’ The Princess giggled, half with admiration, half derision.

‘I was thinking rather of personal cleanliness,’ said the Earl hastily.

‘Oh?’ Caroline was surprised. What did that mean? she wondered.

‘The English nobility pay attention to bathing; in fact the toilette is a ritual— not to be hurried over.’

Caroline laughed. ‘Oh, I never waste much time on washing. Madame Busche says she has never known anyone get through that performance as speedily as I.’

.‘That,’ replied the Earl sharply, ‘is nothing of which to be proud.’

Caroline looked startled and the Earl plunged in.

‘Your Highness must forgive me. I speak for your own good. It is obvious to me— and it would be to His Highness in particular— that you do not spend enough time at your toilette.’

‘My lord, what do you mean? Why should I waste my time going through a ceremonial dressing?’

‘I did not mean the ceremony, Your Highness. I meant the actual performance. It is necessary to wash the body all over and with care.’ This was most embarrassing and he admitted with any other member of a royal family but Caroline it would have been impossible. But that very familiar quality which he so deplored did at least have the effect of allowing him to speak freely. ‘And,’ he added‚ ‘to change one’s linen frequently.’

Caroline burst out laughing. ‘Oh, you mean I’m dirty!’

Malmesbury remained outwardly unperturbed.

‘It may be,’ he said, ‘that I exceed my duty, but Your Highness knows that more than duty prompts me. In England we pay more attention to matters of personal freshness than is the custom in Brunswick. The Prince is a gentlemen of high fashion His linen is kept in scented presses; he bathes each day and would expect Your Highness to do the same. He would, I fear, be aware immediately if you failed to do so.’

Caroline was astonished. ‘Bathe!’ she cried ‘What an odd idea. Is it not a little eccentric? Even in France they do not bathe. I was told that there is only one bathtub in Versailles and that they grow flowers in it.’

‘I am sure you have not heard the truth. But I must explain to you that in England bathing is considered of great importance.’

‘What a strange people I am going among.’

‘And a gentleman such as the Prince is of course greatly addicted to the habit.’

Caroline looked at him mischievously, sensing the embarrassment which was lurking behind his dignified manner.

So I am not clean, she thought, and he has been wondering for a long time how he can tell me so. He really does care about me or why should he bother If I did not love my dearest Major von Töbingen, if I were not going to be the wife of the Prince of Wales, I could love this man. ‘I will take advice from you, my lord,’ she said, ‘though I do not like it from others.’

His words had some effect, though not enough. Caroline was not fond of washing and she thought her dear Earl was being over anxious.

He was relieved that he had been able to talk to her on such a subject without mortally offending her; but he could see that the matter had not ended with that conversation.

Perhaps he should approach one of her women. It would certainly be easier to explain to her. He sought out Madame Busche, one of her very personal maids who seemed to be a sensible woman.

‘Madame Busche,’ he said, ‘I know I can speak to you frankly. And this is a matter of some delicacy so that I must know also that I can trust to your discretion.’

‘You may rely on me, my lord.’

‘It concerns the Princess’s toilette. Frankly she does not pay enough attention to it and this is noticeable. The Prince would immediately be aware of it and as I know him well, I know that he would find it repugnant— more so than most of us, because he is a very fastidious gentleman. I fear that if the Princess were presented to him as she is today, he would be— quite frankly little disgusted.’

Madame Busche was indeed a sensible woman. ‘I am aware of this, my lord.

We find it very difficult to get the Princess to bathe or to change her linen. She says it is all a waste of time. In fact she prides herself on the small amount of time she spends at her toilette‘

‘This must be rectified before she meets the Prince.’

Madame Busche sighed. ‘I will do my best, my lord You will understand—’

‘I have already spoken to the Princess and I think it has had some small effect, but there must be more of a change before we reach England. What kind of linen does she wear?

‘Coarse petticoats and shirts, my lord, and thread stockings. I put fresh ones out for her but often she does not change them.’

‘Madame Busche, we must do our best to make her realize the importance of cleanliness.’

Madame Busche promised that she would do her utmost.

But the fact was, Malmesbury reminded himself, that the German idea of personal hygiene was not the same as that of the English, and English nostrils therefore would be far more sensitive to unpleasant odours.

Soon Mrs. Harcourt would be coming out from England to take up her part as Lady of the Bedchamber to the Princess of Wales. He would be able to speak to her and perhaps something effective would be done then.

He might have spoken to the Duchess. Perhaps she was the obvious person to whom he should have spoken. But she was a foolish woman— and he was surprised that with her English upbringing she had not noticed this failing in her daughter. But while she followed the habits she had been taught in England she had made no effort to instil them in Caroline.

It was not until March that news came from England that the fleet which was to escort Caroline to England had arrived.

The waiting was over. Malmesbury was relieved yet apprehensive. It was perhaps foolish of him to feel the latter, because no one could find fault with the manner in which he had so far carried out his commission. But it was impossible to have come to know Caroline so well and not to feel affection for her— and the apprehension was for what would happen to her. He could not imagine how the Prince of Wales could possibly be attracted by her.

The arrival of Mrs. Harcourt was a comfort. She was, he believed, a sensible woman; she was English; she would understand the need for an improvement in the Princess’s toilette and Lord Malmesbury could talk to her frankly.

Caroline was at first suspicious of her and resentful that her ladies-in-waiting should be chosen for her when she was not allowed to take her secretary Mademoiselle Rosenzweig with her. So she received Mrs. Harcourt as though she disliked her, for there was no finesse about Caroline.

Mrs. Harcourt— a friend of Lady Jersey who had planned with that lady that the Prince should marry not the fascinating Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, niece of the Queen) but the less attractive Caroline of Brunswick— was a woman of experience.

At the moment it was necessary for her to find her way into the Princess’s good graces, so she ignored the churlish reception and very soon Caroline’s temporary dislike had passed.

Malmesbury took the first opportunity of talking to Mrs. Harcourt and telling her of his fears. Mrs. Harcourt had, of course, been aware of Caroline’s failing and she told the Earl that she was doing all in her power to lure the Princess to cleaner habits.

‘Pray do so,’ begged the Earl, ‘or I fear for the results.’

‘My lord Earl,’ replied Mrs. Harcourt, ‘I think your anxiety over these matters has made you a little blind to our Princess’s virtues. I am sure the Prince will love her. She is so affectionate and good-natured. And you will agree that her desire to please everyone is most engaging.’

‘I recognize these virtues and I hope they will make up for the defects.’

‘Oh, but she is so lovable. And have you noticed a slight resemblance to Maria Fitzherbert— when Maria was young, I mean? I am sure it is there. That in itself would endear her to His Highness.’

‘I had not noticed,’ replied Malmesbury. ‘And certainly there is a great difference in the characters of these two ladies. If Her Highness possessed one half the dignity, the regality of Mrs. Fitzherbert—’

‘Ah, but she is so sweet-tempered and affable. I am sure she will please everyone.’

There was one person who would be very pleased, Mrs. Harcourt was sure, and that was Lady Jersey. But it was impossible to be with the Princess without feeling sympathy for her and Mrs. Harcourt genuinely did find her affable and affectionate.

She was well aware that these qualities would not carry her far with His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. But the more she saw of the Princess, the more Mrs. Harcourt liked her and by the time they set sail for England she shared a little of Malmesbury’s desire to launch the Princess happily.