‘Your Highness—’

‘No, my dear, I do not need your company. I am going alone.’

She left Montague House smiling as she went. She knew exactly where she was going. She would call on Lady Douglas and see the enchanting child and perhaps Sir Sydney Smith if he were there.

She found the house he had described. How did one call? Did one walk straight up to the door and knock? That was what she had done in Brunswick when she had wished to call on humble folk. But this was not Brunswick; and there she had merely been the Princess Caroline, daughter of a small ducal house.

Perhaps the Princess of Wales should have a different approach.

She put her hand on the gate and hesitated; then she stopped and walked up and down along by the iron railings. What does it matter how I get in? It only matters that I do. An attractive young woman had come out of the house and approached Caroline. Opening the gate, she asked: ‘Do you want something? Can I help you?’

‘Are you Lady Douglas?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘I thought you must be. I hear you are the mother of a very beautiful little girl.

May I see her? I love children.’

‘Madam—’ began the startled woman.

‘Sir Sydney told me about her. Sir Sydney Smith. He was at Montague House, you see.’

‘Montague House— but that is—’

Caroline nodded. ‘Yes, of course. I am the Princess Caroline— Princess of Wales.’

‘Your Highness!’

‘There’s no need to stand on ceremony. Ask me in, please.’

‘My— my humble house is at Your Highness’s service.’

‘Well, come and show me your little daughter.’

So that was the beginning and Sir Sydney was right. The child was enchanting. As for Sir John and Lady Douglas, they were delighted to have the honour of entertaining Her Royal Highness. And while they gave her refreshment Sir Sidney arrived; and then there was a joyful encounter between him and the Princess It was a very entertaining visit and Sir Sidney begged leave to escort her back to Montague House, which permission she willingly gave.

The Douglases were hopeful, they told her, that they might again have the pleasure of Her Highness’s company and that they hoped that next time she came she would give them warning so that they might have the opportunity of entertaining her in a fitting manner.

‘Nonsense!’ cried Caroline. ‘I’ve been most fittingly entertained! I want no ceremony— you shall come to my next Party at Montague House and certainly I shall come again. We are neighbours.’

When Caroline had left with Sir Sydney the Douglases looked at each other in astonishment.

‘I feel I’ve dreamed the last two hours,’ said Lady Douglas.

‘I always heard she was eccentric.’

‘Who would have believed that she— that woman— was our future Queen!’

‘The stories we’ve heard must have been true.’

‘What an adventure!’ said Lady Douglas. She looked at her husband. He was a brave man and had not done badly; he had been given a pension after the part he had taken with Sir Sydney in the defence of Saint Jean d’Acre; but she was the strong one; she had always led the way and he had always followed.

When she had suggested that the gay bachelor, Sir Sydney Smith, should live in their house when he was ashore, he had raised no objection and if he knew of the relationship between herself and Sir Sydney he raised no objection to that either. He was no raiser of objections and that suited Lady Douglas and Sir Sydney very well indeed.

But the Princess of Wales— to call on them like some humble village woman!

‘I hear you have a beautiful daughter!’ mimicked Lady Douglas in a thick guttural accent. ‘What an extraordinary thing!’

‘You found her— attractive?’ asked Sir John.

‘I would say she is an attractive proposition rather than an attractive woman,’

said Lady Douglas with a smirk.

‘You think this could bring good fortune to us?’

‘I intend to see that it does. Good Heavens, can’t you imagine what it could mean to us? Friends in high places! My dear friend and neighbour is Madame Caroline. She’s crazy; she’s wild; she behaves in the oddest way— I grant you that. But she is still the Princess of Wales.’

‘Sydney seemed taken with her.’

Lady Douglas turned away to hide the frown.

‘He would have to be taken with the Princess of Wales, wouldn’t he? So have you to be— and I. So have we all, if we’re wise.’

Lady Douglas left her husband and went to her room as she said to think of what could come out of this.

From her window she watched for the return of Sir Sydney and when he came back and up to the rooms which had been set aside for him, she was waiting for him in his bedroom.

‘Well?’ she demanded.

‘It’s a fantastic thing. I can scarcely believe it.’

‘She’s a fantastic thing, you mean.’

‘Tut tut, Lottie. You’re talking of the Princess of Wales. Remember that.’

‘I trust you remembered it.’

‘Now what does that mean?’

She threw herself against him and put her arms about his neck. ‘You know full well.’

He laughed.

‘Myself— and the Princess of Wales! Come, Lottie, you’re letting your imagination run away with you.’

‘Mind you don’t let yours run away with you where that woman’s concerned.’

He laughed again and embraced her.

‘Your spare time is for me,’ she told him. ‘Remember it.’

‘As if you’d let me forget!’

‘I shan’t. But if you did by any chance there’d be trouble. You know that.’

‘I know my Lottie,’ he said.

The friendship with the Douglases flourished. Lady Douglas, Caroline believed, was a very exciting personality. She was full of fun, ready for the wildest games Caroline arranged for her parties; and there was the delightful little daughter of hers who had been christened Charlotte Sydney.

It made a bond between them that they both had a daughter named Charlotte; and Caroline was constantly bestowing gifts on the adorable little creature.

How pleased she was that she had called on the Douglases that day!

There was a great deal of entertaining and Sir Sydney was in good form at Parties; he had a talent for devising all sorts of games and they were usually games with forfeits. And the price he always demanded from the ladies was a kiss. This caused great merriment. And when Caroline had to pay her forfeit, Sir Sydney did not alter his terms and Caroline was very prepared to kiss him heartily. He was her dear friend who had helped to make her life so much more exciting.

Captain Manley came to Montague House a great deal too. He was very interested in her boys and told her that the sea would be a fine career for any of them who were suited to it.

‘Why, you are like a father to my darlings,’ she cried in her impulsive way, and once when he took his leave she kissed him heartily to show him how grateful she was.

She did not realize that her behaviour was noticed and commented on not only among her friends but among her servants. Nor did she know that some of the latter had be placed in her household on the orders of the Prince of Wales that her conduct might be observed and reported.

‘Dear, dear Captain Manley,’ she would say. ‘What wonderful man he is! And so kind.’

As for dear Sir Sydney, she had a great affection for him too. He was the life and soul of any party and she enjoyed his high spirits and those occasions when he would hold the all entranced with some tale of the sea in which Sir Sydney always played the part of dashing hero.

Since she had come to Montague House she certainly was building up a little coterie around herself which was making life very agreeable.

The King called with presents for herself and little Charlotte. She was sad because she saw that his health was deteriorating. He spoke in that rapid manner which was so alarming and he was a trifle incoherent.

‘Well, well, well, so you are settled here, eh? It’s wrong you know, wrong, wrong, wrong. Ought to be at Carlton House. And little Charlotte? How is the child? Are you seeing her? Glad of that, glad of that. Should be there, though.

Don’t like trouble in the family. My father quarrelled with his father— his father quarrelled with his father— and now my son— Who would have sons, eh? Lucky to have a daughter. Worried about Amelia, though. Do you never see the Princesses?’

‘I never see them, Uncle dear. I think they may have had orders to stay away.’

‘Don’t like it. All wrong— wrong— should all be friends. Like to see you back with the Prince.’

‘He’d never have me, Your Majesty, and I don’t think I’d want to go. I’m happy here. If I could have little Charlotte here I’d want nothing else—’

‘Happy, eh? Like it here? Not suitable really for Princess of Wales. Should be at Carlton House. Don’t like it.’ He looked at her in an oddly appreciative way.

He said: ‘Pretty woman— fine bosom— should be painted. Should have your portrait painted. Has it been done since you came? Should have it done, I’ll send a man to do it. You’d like that, eh, what?’

‘Why yes, Your Majesty. I’d be delighted.’

‘Leave it to me. Only right. I’ll send a man, eh, what?’

Poor, poor Uncle George, thought Caroline when he had left. One of these days he will go completely mad. She believed that he would forget the promise to have her portrait painted and expected to hear no more, so she was surprised when Sir Thomas Lawrence, R.A., arrived at Montague House.

Caroline was delighted with the painter from the beginning. He was handsome, in his early thirties and had an extremely gallant manner. She was discovering that she liked to be surrounded by admiring men; their attentions and compliments helped her to forget the insults of the Prince of Wales, for although she pretended that she did not care and that she was no more attracted to him than he to her, her pride had been deeply wounded; and men such as Captain Manley and Sir Sydney Smith, with their perpetual gallantries and air of ‘Ah, if I but dared’ were a comfort to her. And now to their number was added the handsome young painter.