Read Online The Petticoat Men by Barbara Ewing - Free Book Online

ridiculous. The man is an inebriate. And he is mad, apart from any other consideration.’ The unbending Duke of Newcastle brooked no further discussion with his daughter as they argued in the town house next door to the Gladstones, in Carlton House Terrace. ‘I unequivocally forbid it!’ said the Duke, and he left the room.
    In a few moments his children heard the front door slam.
    Susan addressed her eldest brother imperiously. ‘I shall walk to St Mary’s tomorrow morning, Linky. If Papa will not give his blessing – not even make a settlement upon me, I shall simply place my life in dear Dolly’s hands. You must give me away, Linky, instead of Papa!’ She put her hand to her forehead in a dramatic manner, as she remembered her mother doing, so long ago. ‘Take a message to Dolly, with my heart. Tell him my plan and my wishes.’
    There was nobody to even suggest caution: certainly not her brother Linky. He may have been heir to the Newcastle dukedom but he owed an extremely large amount of money in gambling debts, both in London and in Paris; he knew that the very wealthy Adolphus Vane-Tempest, who was so wild about his sister, would “lend” him money when he became part of the family.
    ‘Tell Dolly: eleven o’clock tomorrow morning!’ And her eldest brother sped to do her bidding.
    The next morning Lady Susan Clinton arrived at the church on foot, with her governess, and married Lord Adolphus Vane-Tempest (who was somewhat the worse for wear by eleven o’clock, and singing).
    The whole of noble London buzzed with the scandal: the mad Adolphus Vane-Tempest and one of the Princess Royal’s bridesmaids, after all! At society dining-tables bets were placed, amid much laughter, as to whether the bride or the groom would be confined – by a surgeon of lunacy or a surgeon of maternity – first.
    Queen Victoria who had always thought Susan such an agreeable and attractive girl was shocked also. She consoled Lady Susan’s father, the Duke of Newcastle, for his continuing misfortunes by sending him to accompany the eighteen-year-old Prince of Wales on a visit to Canada and America.
    Lady Susan’s marriage was indeed dramatic, as so many had foretold. Lord Adolphus drank riotously and threw expensive ornaments and sharp knives at his beloved bride. Her father having disowned her, she several times had to hide for safety with her quite horrible mother-in-law, who resented having to support her daughter-in-law in the manner to which she was accustomed and complained loudly to anyone who would listen of her extravagance. (In the meantime the Prince’s royal tour, with Lady Susan’s father as escort, was a great success.)
    So it seemed for a moment that Lady Susan may have been damaged by her unloved childhood, but that the unloved Prince of Wales was made of sterner stuff.
    Alas, no.
    The young Prince had been briefly permitted to be attached to a military camp. Bertie’s first sexual activities – with a lady who had followed the brigade – had been discovered, causing great trouble between father and son, and very soon thereafter Prince Albert had died – it was said to be typhoid but Her Bereft Majesty insisted that her beloved Albert had passed away from distress over his eldest son’s behaviour.
    The Queen could not bear to have the Prince of Wales near her. The suitable marriage that was already being arranged with a Danish princess soon provided annual children. And Lady Susan became a young widow, perhaps providentially: her late husband had, before his death, thrown at her many more heavy items, including himself; had broken a bed in half in Paris, and had finally been escorted to a hospital for the insane where he died.
    And here they were, this Sunday afternoon, these two lucky, unlucky people, together in her house in Westminster, smoking together still, conjoined by their background, and their childhood, and – perhaps – their mothers.
    Lady Susan Vane-Tempest, widow, sister of Lord Arthur