‘To go abroad,’ she said. ‘To travel. It is something I have always longed for. To have adventures in strange countries … to meet people … people who will be my friends. Why should I not travel? What is there for me here? To tell the truth, Lady Charlotte, I am heartily sick of this country. I have never known any happiness in it … except when Charlotte was born. And they soon took her away from me. I never see her. I might as well have no daughter. I reckon I should be happier abroad.’

She talked of foreign countries and Lady Charlotte encouraged her to do so. At least it took her mind off the Tsar’s discourtesy.

The Prince of Orange had arrived in England. Compared with F with whom Charlotte was now deeply involved by correspondence he looked more unattractive than ever.

‘I won’t have him,’ Charlotte declared to Cornelia, who merely smiled and said she doubted that Charlotte would. For Cornelia – although sometimes she could not understand herself – was completely committed to further the affair with F and had quite made up her mind that he was to be Charlotte’s bridegroom.

Charlotte was writing long letters to Mercer and they were full of the perfections of F.

‘He is so bold,’ she wrote. ‘I am sure that if my father got to hear of our friendship and tried to stop it, he would find some means of continuing it.’

The Duchess of Oldenburg was amused. She discussed the affair with F, for she was determined that the Orange match should not take place.

‘Dearest F,’ she said to him one day, ‘how would you like to be consort of the Queen of England?’

To her amazement F was not enthusiastic.

‘The point is, dear Duchess, that I am scarcely a marrying man.’

‘Oh, I know you have had love affairs with every pretty girl in Germany but surely you will settle down one day and where could you find a more gilded settlement?’

‘Nowhere. I’m sure of that.’

‘And yet you hesitate?’

‘Do you think I would be acceptable to your plump friend?’

‘Plump the gentleman is, but not my friend. My dear F!’ The Duchess laughed with relish. ‘Charlotte could be made to see that her wishes are consulted and if she tried she could no doubt get her way. Have you noticed how the people love her – and her vulgar mother; and how they dislike the fat gentleman? I think he will have to act very carefully, and it may be he has the sense to know it. So don’t despair.’

He was silent and she said: ‘I can’t believe it can be so, but it would seem that you are not over eager.’

‘Perhaps I’ve been free too long.’

‘Good God, you don’t still hanker after Madame Récamier? That woman’s an iceberg. And her only claim to fame is that she was painted on a sofa.’

The Prince did not wish to discuss the only woman with whom he could say he had ever been in love, although he had made love to many.

‘I find Charlotte’s youth and naïveté attractive,’ he admitted.

‘And she is even more attracted to you than you to her. What a pleasant situation for you! Think about it, my dear F. Don’t throw away such a glorious chance … just for a whim. You must admit that it is all very amusing.’

F was ready to agree with that.

The Regent, aware that his daughter was making certain flighty friendships and that although her visits to the Duchess of Oldenburg had been curtailed she was still making undesirable acquaintances through that woman, decided to hurry on the marriage.

The Prince of Orange was now expressing his devotion to Charlotte; they met frequently and she did not dislike him, though she found him not in the least exciting. The Duchess, discussing the affair with another of her impecunious princes, who were only too glad to be members of the Russian entourage, declared that if nothing was done the poor princess would be hustled into marriage by her overpowering parent.

‘Poor child,’ she murmured. ‘It is the last thing she wants.’

‘Her mother is against it, I hear,’ said the Prince.

‘Her mother is against everything the Regent desires. Did ever a child possess such parents? I feel I must do something for her. Orange is a weakling. He’ll never do for her. Someone should save the poor child from him.’

‘Your Imperial Highness for instance?’

‘Since no one else will, I must do what I can … and you have always said that you would do anything for me.’

‘I am entirely at Your Highness’s service, as you know.’

The Duchess laughed and tapped him lightly on the arm.

‘Little Orange either drinks a great deal or is unable to carry what he does take. It came to my ears that he has been seen once or twice the worse for drink.’

‘What gentleman is not?’

‘But my little Charlotte happens to find the habit somewhat nauseating. You should have heard her account of a dinner party to which she was invited by her father. The Regent, his brother of York and certain of the guests at their table were unable to stand at the end of the banquet. York actually fell off his chair and cut his head open, and trying to save himself grasped the tablecloth and pulled its contents on top of him. She told me that she was quite disgusted and that she thought that to be the worse for drink was a weakness she would never tolerate in a husband.’

‘The Princess is a puritan.’

‘About drunkards, yes – and there is this young Billy of Holland who can’t carry his drink. Charlotte should know.’

‘Surely someone will tell her.’

‘Telling is not the same as seeing. It is our duty to let her see him drunk.’

‘Our duty, Highness?’

‘Our bounden duty,’ said the Duchess solemnly. ‘So … accompany him to the races. Let him be merry there and make sure that he rides back … dead drunk and publicly.’

The Prince bowed. ‘At Your Imperial Highness’s service,’ he said. ‘I shall make it my duty to see that the Princess Charlotte is a witness of the inebriate habits of Slender Billy.’

‘I knew we could rely on you.’

Charlotte was angry.

‘I tell you this, Notte,’ she said. ‘I will not marry a drunken man. Do you know, he drove back from Ascot quite insensible. And this is the husband they have chosen for me. I will not marry him.’

Cornelia soothed her. ‘Your Highness should stand firm. I am sure that if you do you will marry the man of your choice.’

‘I am going to write to dear F immediately. I am going to tell him that I will not tolerate Orange’s drunkenness. As soon as I have written you will take the letter to your friend and see if there is one for me. Cornelia, I am sending him my ruby ring. It is a token of my feelings for I do believe the foolish man believes that I am not serious.’

‘And Your Highness?’

‘Deadly serious,’ said Charlotte.

So in the circumstances, thought Cornelia, surely she was not wrong to act as go-between. The fact was that if she did not Charlotte would be cold towards her; and that was something Cornelia could not endure.

She was relieved when Brougham and Whitbread came to see the Princess. Cornelia conducted them to Charlotte’s apartment and asked if it was the Princess’s wish that she should remain during the interview.

Charlotte hesitated and the two men decided that Cornelia should stay with them. She could help to advise the Princess, they thought, because there was no doubt that Her Royal Highness needed strong friends.

‘The Princess of Wales will most assuredly leave the country if your marriage to the Prince of Holland takes place,’ Brougham told her.

‘Leave the country!’ cried Charlotte.

‘Indeed yes, Your Highness. She is declaring that you are the only reason she remains. She has been so ill-treated here, so humiliated that she wishes to leave. But while she feels that you may need her, she will stay. Your marriage to Dutch William would mean that you had placed yourself with her enemies and that would decide her.’

‘I would never place myself with her enemies,’ cried Charlotte. ‘Oh, please assure her of my unwavering affection.’

‘I will do so,’ said Brougham. ‘But the best assurance would be your refusal of the Dutch marriage.’

Charlotte’s eyes sparkled. She was not alone. She had her mother to work for her – and her mother’s friends.

‘Pray tell my mother,’ she said, ‘that I think of her often. Tell her that I am touched to know that she remains here on my account. If she left me I should feel desolate. Pray tell her that.’

The men left, feeling that their mission had not been without success.

As for Cornelia, she could assure herself that in helping Charlotte to carry on her clandestine affair with F, she was doing the right thing.

Charlotte received a note from the Prince Regent. He saw no reason why the wedding should be delayed and they would fix a date immediately. He was sending her a list of those who would be present at the wedding. If there was any of whom she did not approve would she strike out that name.

She studied the list headed by herself, the bridegroom and the Regent.

There was no mention of her mother! So they were planning a wedding at which the bride’s mother was to be excluded!

Boldly, thinking of her friends – her mother, Brougham, Whitbread … and thinking too of the ardent F – she took up her pen and struck out the name of William, Hereditary Prince of Orange.

She awaited the Prince’s angry repercussions. They did not come.

Perhaps he had not seen the list. Or perhaps he preferred to ignore what he thought was facetious folly.

But she could not stand idle. Unless she were going to be hustled into marriage she must do something quickly.