‘One has to admit that he has something Orange lacks. But it is no use for Charlotte. She is going to have Orange, I shall see to that. In the meantime, though, this Devonshire nonsense must be stopped.’

‘It should not be difficult. A word to Devonshire should warn him. He is not a fool, I take it, and would not go against your wishes.’

‘I am surprised that her women don’t keep her in better order. Miss Knight drove with her, if you please, to Chiswick.’

‘Miss Knight!’ The queen gave a short sharp laugh. ‘I think that woman was more suitable serving me.’

She looked at him fondly. They were good friends now after the terrible enmities of the past. Her feelings for him had passed through three stages, intense love, violent hatred and now a placid affection; but he would always be her firstborn, the only person who had ever really found a place in her cold heart. All the same she relished stressing the mistakes he made. Marrying Caroline was the greatest and to take Miss Knight from her had been of course of much less magnitude, but a false move all the same. She was glad he realized it; and if she could do anything to bring home to him the fact that Miss Knight was not the most suitable companion for Charlotte she would do so.

Charlotte was beginning to feel desperate. Hesse would not return the letters and she never met the Duke of Devonshire anywhere. It was understood that if she were present, he was not. He made no effort to see her. Clearly he had had orders.

When she saw her father he talked to her of Orange all the time, the desirability of the match and the bravery of young William on the battlefield.

Something would have to be done. They wanted her married and unless she could find a husband of her own choice they would make her take Orange. So she must look around and an idea came to her that if she allowed them to think her fancy had alighted on someone really unsuitable they would be obliged to consider her choice and thus she could play for time.

With this idea in mind she looked about her and when at her grandmother’s Drawing Room she caught sight of her Aunt Mary in conversation with her father’s cousin William Duke of Gloucester. A mischievous idea came to Charlotte. Silly Billy, as the Regent with his love of nicknames had called him, was attached to Mary in a lukewarm way; as for Mary she hoped to marry her cousin; and would have done so had not the Queen stood out firmly against it. The old King of course in his day had been against any of his daughters marrying. Poor things, thought Charlotte, for they had wanted to … desperately.

The more she thought of Silly Billy the better she liked the idea. Mary had been rather actively spying for her mother recently and it would teach her a lesson; and when the little joke was over – for over it would be in due course – it might well be that the Queen would not attempt to stand in her daughter’s way any longer.

The more she thought of the idea the better she liked it. It would create a diversion and some amusement and heaven knew she was in need of that.

She selected Lord Yarmouth for her confidence. As Lady Hertford’s son he was on good terms with the Regent; and he really was a rather stupid dandy so it would be easy to try it out on him. Moreover he had, in a rather clumsy way, been trying to gain her confidence lately and knowing her fondness for dogs had given her a delightful French poodle. She loved the poodle but it did not change her opinion of the ‘Yarmouth Bloater’ as the writers called him in their lampoons.

She did not have to wait long for Yarmouth to call upon her. He said he came to inquire about the little French dog.

Charlotte assured him that her poodle was adorable and showed him to Yarmouth who pretended to be most affectionate towards the animal. Superciliously Charlotte watched him patting her dog. Then she said: ‘I have something to confide in you, Lord Yarmouth.’

His bloater face was suffused with gratification. All his efforts were to be rewarded. Charlotte was going to make him her confidant and the Regent would realize his importance.

‘You know, my lord, I am not eager for the Orange match.’

Yarmouth looked grave. It was his duty as the Regent’s friend to make her realize the advantages of union with Holland.

‘Because,’ she went on, ‘I have a fancy for another.’

Lord Yarmouth’s whiskers bristled. ‘Your Highness, if you would tell me the name …’

‘It is the Duke of Gloucester.’

‘The d … d … d …’ spluttered Yarmouth.

‘Yes,’ giggled Charlotte. ‘The … d … d … d … of Gloucester, of course.’

‘Your father’s cousin!’

‘Why not?’

‘But Your Highness cannot really mean this!’

‘I have always liked the Duke of Gloucester.’

‘Your Highness, he is twenty years older than you are.’

‘If I do not mind, why should other people?’

‘I do not think His Highness, the Regent …’

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders. ‘I know very well,’ she said, ‘that he can prevent my marrying the Duke of Gloucester by withholding his consent, but if he does I shall state publicly that I refuse to marry anyone else.’

Lord Yarmouth could scarcely wait to report to the Regent.

The Prince strode up and down his apartment.

‘Why should I be cursed with such a daughter? Gloucester! Is she mad? He’s thirty-seven years old. I never liked him. He’s a fool. Silly Billy to be the husband of my daughter! I think she has gone raving mad. Why should I be surrounded by such women? What have I done?’ Floods of self-pity overwhelmed him. He, who had been ready to be friendly with her, to indulge her. Hadn’t he given her that magnificent sapphire? And what about the greyhound and all the fetes and balls he planned for her? And she repaid him by refusing suitable Orange and declaring her preference for Gloucester. ‘Gloucester Cheese,’ he cried, rounding on Yarmouth. ‘Indeed, he’s nothing but a cheese. He has no sense … or little of it. The fellow’s a pompous fool; and why, because of his origins! They say his mother was a milliner. My uncle had no right to marry so low. He did it against my father’s wish, as you know. And it was due to him that we had this accursed Marriage Act. His mother might have been a beauty but she was illegitimate … and my uncle had no right to bring her into the family. And this daughter of mine chooses her son in preference to the Prince of Orange. The Cheese instead of the Orange. Did you ever hear of such folly, eh?’

Lord Yarmouth replied that he had been thunderstruck when the Princess told him of her preference. He had not believed her and insisted that she was joking. But no, she had said; she preferred Gloucester to Orange and if she couldn’t have him, she would have no one.

‘I don’t believe it,’ cried the Regent. ‘How could a young girl like Charlotte fancy that fool Silly Billy? Besides he’s been dancing attendance on the Princess Mary for years. It’s time he married her.’

‘Her Majesty …’

‘Oh, I know, Her Majesty is against the match. Her Majesty is against all matches for her daughters, but while Silly Billy might do well enough for Mary he is no match for Charlotte.’

‘What does Your Highness wish me to do?’

‘To tell her I say No! And the sooner she comes to her senses and takes Orange the better.’

The Duke of Gloucester could not help but be flattered. The young Princess wanted to marry him – and she the future Queen of England!

It was true that he had been attached to Mary for years, but that had never come to anything; and such a dazzling prospect as marriage with the heiress presumptive was enough to turn anyone’s head, certainly such an unbalanced one as Gloucester’s.

He had always been conscious of the humble origins of his mother because there had been plenty to remind him of them; and although she had been a good woman of remarkable beauty and had conducted her life with more decorum and dignity than most members of the family, her birth had been a handicap – particularly as she was not even legitimate.

Here was a chance to wipe out that stain. He would be the husband of the Queen … for Charlotte would be that one day. The King was growing more feeble every day and the Regent was scarcely robust. He could look fine enough in all his elegant glitter but he was constantly being bled and was subject to mysterious illnesses. Gloucester could not help walking around with his head held high and a new arrogance had crept into his manner.

The Princess Mary drooped visibly as she saw her chance of marriage disappearing. William had been her comfort; and they had resigned themselves to the fact they could not yet be married, but she had always believed they would in time. And now that hope was threatened by Charlotte’s extraordinary statement.

The Regent went to his mother to talk of Charlotte.

‘I believe,’ he said, ‘that it is just a cover. It’s Devonshire she’s after. No girl could seriously contemplate marrying Silly Billy.’

‘I believe Charlotte would go to any lengths to disturb us.’

‘But she is thinking of marriage! Billy should have been married years ago … to Mary.’ It was a reproof to his mother. She was constantly referring to his mistake in marrying Caroline instead of her niece and now of course that he was not so pleased with Miss Knight she was giving little digs about his taking her away. So this was just a gentle retaliation. They worked together nowadays, which was more agreeable to them both. Sentimental as he was, it suited his moods and ideals to be devoted to his mother and to know that she was to him. With such a relationship which existed between himself and his wife and daughter, he could not afford trouble with his mother in addition.