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Authors: Jean Plaidy
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propose?’
‘There is only one safe way. I don’t see why we shouldn’t do it. Introduce the Salic law which excludes the right of females to inherit the throne.’
The Duchess caught her breath. ‘Is that possible?’
‘All things are possible.’
‘With Ernest, Duke of Cumberland,’ she added lightly.
‘The Orange Lodges are against the female succession.’
‘I see,’ said the Duchess. ‘And you are their Grand Master.’
Cumberland’s one eye was shining with purpose.
‘This could mean civil war …’ she began.
He leaned closer to her. ‘Who’s afraid of war … for the right cause?’
‘Do you think it would come to that?’
‘I’d have the support of the Lodges. It’s to their advantage to see me on the throne … rather than that girl. Why, her mother and Leopold would rule the country. I’d never have that. Nor would the Lodges.’
Frederica wondered how powerful the Lodges were. They had been formed by the Peep o’ Day boys, those Ulster Presbyterians who had formed a union to fight the Catholics. Cumberland who, professing to be an ardent Presbyterian, had been elected their Grand Master, had never neglected them and was certain of their allegiance. Obviously they would prefer to see him on the throne than this little girl, with her ridiculous mother as Regent, aided by that hypocrite of a Leopold.
‘You think they would make an effective force?’
‘There are 145,000 members in England alone; and the Irish would be ready to come in.’
‘It’s an ambitious scheme.’
‘We need an ambitious scheme.’
‘I would rather see Victoria go into a decline.’
‘She’s as plump as a partridge they say, and full of blooming health.’
‘It’s a different story with Clarence.’
‘Oh, he won’t last. He’s half mad, I tell you.’
‘I wish I could be sure it was true.’
‘Well, you see Adelaide. What do you learn from her?’
‘You know Adelaide. She would keep her mouth shut if she thought anything she said might be detrimental to him. Your Orange Lodge is the best idea – but wars don’t always go as one hopes.’
Cumberland nodded. He would only wish to resort to war if all other methods failed.
What ill fortune that he had not been born earlier. If only he had been the third son instead of Clarence, or even the fourth.
His elder brother Frederick, Duke of York, was safely dead; William was destined for the strait-jacket; Edward of Kent was dead and if it were not for that wretched little girl at Kensington Palace … It was the old wearying theme.
The door opened and a young boy looked in.
The Duchess’s face softened. She held out a hand: ‘George, my dear.’
Cumberland watched his son and was proud of him. It would not have been possible to find a more handsome boy; nor a more honest and upright one. He was a continual source of surprise to his parents who marvelled that they should have such a son. He was a few months older than Victoria and whenever he looked at his son the Duke ground his teeth in fury that that girl at Kensington came before this beautiful boy whom he wanted to see on the throne when he himself was forced through death to vacate it.
‘You look pleased,’ the Duchess was saying, her voice gentle as it rarely was. ‘Has something pleasant happened?’
‘I have an invitation from Aunt Adelaide.’
How the children loved that woman! She was harmless enough, more suited to be the mother of a large family than a Queen of England – which she would be if William didn’t go mad before George IV died.
‘And you wish to accept it?’
‘May I?’
‘I believe you would be a little sad if I said no,’ smiled the Duchess.
‘Well, Mamma, I should. Aunt Adelaide’s parties are so amusing. She thinks of the most exciting things for us to do.’
‘And your cousin Cambridge – how do you like him?’
‘Very much, Mamma.’
‘I expect he misses his family.’
‘He did at first, and now Aunt Adelaide is like his mother.
‘There is only one safe way. I don’t see why we shouldn’t do it. Introduce the Salic law which excludes the right of females to inherit the throne.’
The Duchess caught her breath. ‘Is that possible?’
‘All things are possible.’
‘With Ernest, Duke of Cumberland,’ she added lightly.
‘The Orange Lodges are against the female succession.’
‘I see,’ said the Duchess. ‘And you are their Grand Master.’
Cumberland’s one eye was shining with purpose.
‘This could mean civil war …’ she began.
He leaned closer to her. ‘Who’s afraid of war … for the right cause?’
‘Do you think it would come to that?’
‘I’d have the support of the Lodges. It’s to their advantage to see me on the throne … rather than that girl. Why, her mother and Leopold would rule the country. I’d never have that. Nor would the Lodges.’
Frederica wondered how powerful the Lodges were. They had been formed by the Peep o’ Day boys, those Ulster Presbyterians who had formed a union to fight the Catholics. Cumberland who, professing to be an ardent Presbyterian, had been elected their Grand Master, had never neglected them and was certain of their allegiance. Obviously they would prefer to see him on the throne than this little girl, with her ridiculous mother as Regent, aided by that hypocrite of a Leopold.
‘You think they would make an effective force?’
‘There are 145,000 members in England alone; and the Irish would be ready to come in.’
‘It’s an ambitious scheme.’
‘We need an ambitious scheme.’
‘I would rather see Victoria go into a decline.’
‘She’s as plump as a partridge they say, and full of blooming health.’
‘It’s a different story with Clarence.’
‘Oh, he won’t last. He’s half mad, I tell you.’
‘I wish I could be sure it was true.’
‘Well, you see Adelaide. What do you learn from her?’
‘You know Adelaide. She would keep her mouth shut if she thought anything she said might be detrimental to him. Your Orange Lodge is the best idea – but wars don’t always go as one hopes.’
Cumberland nodded. He would only wish to resort to war if all other methods failed.
What ill fortune that he had not been born earlier. If only he had been the third son instead of Clarence, or even the fourth.
His elder brother Frederick, Duke of York, was safely dead; William was destined for the strait-jacket; Edward of Kent was dead and if it were not for that wretched little girl at Kensington Palace … It was the old wearying theme.
The door opened and a young boy looked in.
The Duchess’s face softened. She held out a hand: ‘George, my dear.’
Cumberland watched his son and was proud of him. It would not have been possible to find a more handsome boy; nor a more honest and upright one. He was a continual source of surprise to his parents who marvelled that they should have such a son. He was a few months older than Victoria and whenever he looked at his son the Duke ground his teeth in fury that that girl at Kensington came before this beautiful boy whom he wanted to see on the throne when he himself was forced through death to vacate it.
‘You look pleased,’ the Duchess was saying, her voice gentle as it rarely was. ‘Has something pleasant happened?’
‘I have an invitation from Aunt Adelaide.’
How the children loved that woman! She was harmless enough, more suited to be the mother of a large family than a Queen of England – which she would be if William didn’t go mad before George IV died.
‘And you wish to accept it?’
‘May I?’
‘I believe you would be a little sad if I said no,’ smiled the Duchess.
‘Well, Mamma, I should. Aunt Adelaide’s parties are so amusing. She thinks of the most exciting things for us to do.’
‘And your cousin Cambridge – how do you like him?’
‘Very much, Mamma.’
‘I expect he misses his family.’
‘He did at first, and now Aunt Adelaide is like his mother.
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