But he also had at Kempshott one of the best packs of foxhounds in the country and there he kept his best hunters. He could, at Kempshott, play the country squire as his father used to enjoy doing at Kew and Windsor— but whereas the King had dressed and behaved like a country gentleman, the Prince was never anything but the Prince of Wales.

The country people were less fickle than those of the Capital. They did not joke so much as his expense. There were no lampoons and cartoons, no bawdy and disrespectful gossip such as that which went on in coffee and chocolate houses.

He was married and that seemed a good thing to the country folk. As for the Princess of Wales she was a pleasant lady, always with a smile for any who looked her way; and often she would stop and talk to the children in a manner which showed she loved them.

Caroline thought: If it had happened differently I should have been happy here. We might have made a good royal marriage. If she could have had some of her friends with her she would have felt more at ease. Why had he been so cruel as to deny her the company and skill with English of Mademoiselle Rosenzweig? If only she could have had someone just to talk to.

But she was unsure of all these English women who surrounded her, because they all seemed to be under the influence of Lady Jersey.

She talked a little to Mrs. Harcourt, who was inclined to be sympathetic.

‘The Prince hates me,’ she said. ‘Why does he hate me so much?’

‘Your Highness is mistaken. The Prince needs a little time to grow used to his marriage. He, er—’

Caroline burst out laughing. ‘The more used to it, he grows the more he hates it. Though I daresay few people here have ever seen a bridegroom try to turn away from the altar just at that moment when the Archbishop is about to make him and his bride man and wife.’

‘Your Highness finds this amusing?’

‘Very amusing,’ cried Caroline, speaking in her racy French. ‘I wonder if it has ever happened before to a Princess of Wales? If not, I shall be remembered for it, shall I not?’

‘If it were true, Madam, which I am sure it is not, it would best be forgotten.’

Mrs. Harcourt for all her sternness and her loyalty to Lady Jersey was sorry for the Princess and somehow conveyed it.

‘You need not be sorry for me,’ cried Caroline. ‘It is the life of princes. My father used to talk of it. He was forced to marry my mother and was in love with another woman. He regretted he could not have married her. He always believed that if he had, his children would have been different.’ Again that shrill laughter.

‘Oh you are thinking that I am a little mad like my brother? Perhaps you are right.

Perhaps I lin. Oh no, no. I am very wise. I know that this is a mariage de convenance. Are not all royal marriages? But this one particularly so. I would never have been brought over here if the Prince had not been in debt. I was the victim of Mammon. The Prince of Wales’s debts must be paid and poor little I’s person was the pretence.’

‘Your Highness!’ murmured Mrs. Harcourt, shocked.

‘Oh, Your Highness! Your Highness!’ mimicked Caroline. ‘You know the truth of this as well as I do, Madam. Parliament would vote supplies only for the marriage of the heir-apparent. A Protestant Princess must be found so they fixed on the Prince’s cousin. I hate it all. I tell you God’s truth, I hate it all!’ She threw back her head and beat her hands an her heavy breasts. But I had to oblige my father. He wished it. My mother wished it. And what could I do?’

‘It is like so many royal marriages, Your Highness. But these are often happy.

The King and the Queen—’

‘Have fifteen children. Shall I? I think the Prince will be content with one— for when he has one he no longer needs to sleep with me. I tell you, this is what he waits far. He wishes to say: "I have done my duty. Now, I need do no more. It is enough.’ And I shall be glad. I do not love him. Let him go to his Jersey woman. The moment I saw that woman with my future husband I knew how it was with them and I shrugged my shoulders and knew I did not care.’

Her eyes were glazed with a sudden emotion; she was thinking of Major von Töbingen with the amethyst pin with which he had said he would never part while he lived.

‘Oh mine God,’ she cried, ‘I could be the slave of the man I love. But one I did not love and who did not love me that is a very different thing— that is impossible.’

‘Your Highness should not talk in this way.’

‘Do not, I beg you, tell me how I should talk. I talk as I wish, Madam. And I say this: Very few husbands love their wives and when a person is forced to marry another it is enough to make them hateful to each other. If I had come over here just as a Princess on a visit— Do you know that that was what Mr. Pitt wanted me to do? Oh, it was before there was talk of marriage; but I think Mr. Pitt wanted the Prince to marry and he thought that if I came over on a visit the Prince might have liked me a little. Do you think he would?’

‘I feel sure he would.’

‘Yes, he would have liked me— and perhaps I should have liked him. We should have been good friends. It would have been very different— perhaps.’

She began to laugh. ‘But do not be sorry for me, my good Mrs. Harcourt. All the Prince gives me in trouble shall be repaid. If he does not want me, believe me I do not want him. Once I am with child, once I have my baby, I shall be ready to say: Go away. Your presence is offensive to me. ’ Her laughter was more wild.

‘Oh, you are shocked. Be shocked. It amuses me to shock people and if I am not to have love, let me at least have amusement.’

The Princess of Wales was indeed very strange, thought Mrs. Harcourt.

When they could no longer curb their hatred of each other, they allowed it to break out and seemed to take a great delight in hurting each other.

The Prince would wrinkle his nose in disgust when he looked at her. Caroline, deeply wounded, determined not to show her hurt, would give vent to mocking laughter or sometimes she would try to discountenance him with her ribaldry. Her intention was to show him that she did not care for him any more than he cared for her and that the marriage had been forced on her no less than it had been forced on him One evening when there were guests at Kempshott and it was necessary that they dine together with their guests, he looked distastefully at her. Her appearance was always too flamboyant; her clothes— no matter who was her dressmaker— managed to look vulgar in his eyes as soon as she put them on. She was always over-rouged, although her cheeks were naturally highly coloured; her dresses never seemed to fit. Her bust which was magnificent— and he thought of Maria’s fine bosom every time he looked at her— gave her a pear shaped look which he found repulsive in the extreme. She loved finery and would wear too many jewels of clashing colours in which she managed to look slovenly, and the greatest crime of all was that she refused to bath frequently.

The Prince shuddered and as he could not bear to look at her face, he fixed his gaze on her feet.

‘Well, she cried truculently, ‘you seem to find my boots very interesting.’

‘I find them extremely clumsy.’

‘Oh, so you do? Well then you go and make me another pair. Yes, you go and make me a pair of boots. And then bring them to me and perhaps if I consider them good enough I. may wear them.’

The Prince turned away.

Although she might shout and mock she was bitterly wounded.

It was a comforting thought to know that the Prince had invited her old friend Malmesbury to dinner that night. What joy it would be to see him!

She would never forget how he had tried to help her. He, who knew the Prince so well, must have realized what would happen when she came to England. No wonder he had been so anxious for her, so eager to help her— dear good Malmesbury If only they had brought her over to marry him instead of the Prince, how different it would have been believe, she thought, that I hate my husband.

Among the guests were Lady Jersey and Colonel Hanger. She hated them both. Lady Jersey now made no secret of her contempt for Caroline.

She wanted everyone to know that she was the true mistress of the house.

What an insult to have his mistress as Lady of the Bedchamber when she had not been allowed to bring her own friends from Brunswick. And Colonel Hanger was a coarse man, a player of practical jokes, and she wondered that her fastidious husband could have such a man for a friend.

But his tastes were not all that refined it seemed. He could gather together the most vulgar companions at times. It was all very well to be so elegant and wear such beautiful clothes and to bow in such a manner that it was the admiration of all who saw it. But what about some of these vulgar friends of his like Colonel Hanger, Sir John and Letty Lade, and the Barry brothers? They were always playing their silly practical jokes and of course she was the butt for most of them; they invaded the house and it was made noisy by their horseplay. And how they drank! They were almost always drunk and she would often find them sleeping on the sofas with their boots on— snoring.

Not so elegant, she thought grimly.

At dinner the Prince was attentive to Lady Jersey and kept pressing her hand and looking at her with great affection.

Still, she thought, he doesn’t feel quite so affectionate to her as he pretends to be. It’s all to anger me. And the woman was wearing pearl bracelets. She knew those pearl bracelets.

They were hers. They had been part of the jewellery which had come to her on her marriage. How dared he take them away from her collection to give to Lady Jersey!