Read Online Victoria in the Wings: (Georgian Series) by Jean Plaidy - Free Book Online
Authors: Jean Plaidy
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qualifications. The point is that William and Edward must be married without delay. Perhaps you will decide that you should summon them and make this duty clear to them.’
‘I see that it is imperative to do so.’
The Queen sighed with relief. ‘I knew you would. There may be some opposition from Edward.’
‘You mean because of Madame de St Laurent.’
‘I do. But I do not think that even he will want to turn his back on the possibility of giving us the future ruler of England.’
‘Perhaps not.’
‘The two Princesses will have to be considered carefully. While Adelaide is unmarried – and no longer so young for I believe she is twenty-five or twenty-six – Victoria is a young widow and as such accustomed to a little freedom. Victoria I think may have to be wooed a little; with Adelaide it will be the normal procedure – a match arranged between us on one side and her parents on the other. In the circumstances I suggest Adelaide for William and Victoria for Edward.’
The Regent nodded. He saw the point. William had proved himself rather frequently to have little charm as a wooer and had won a reputation as the most rejected Prince of his time. It would be unwise to send him wooing the Princess Victoria. Therefore quite clearly he must have Adelaide and Edward Victoria.
‘I see, Madre,’ said the Regent, ‘that you have settled the matter as I would have done myself.’
‘My dear son, then you will lose no time in setting these matters in motion?’
‘I shall do so without delay. We are all growing so old, alas, that there is little time to be lost. But I will tell you something.’
Her cold face was touched with sudden warmth and she looked almost handsome for a second. His confidences were the delight of her life.
He put his head close to hers. ‘Caroline is behaving in quite a shocking manner. I don’t despair of ridding myself of her. And if I did … who knows, I might present the nation with the heir myself. What do you say to that?’
‘I would say,’ said the Queen fervently, ‘that Heaven had granted my dearest wish.’
They were silent for a moment contemplating that happy event.
But they both knew that the House of Hanover could not continue to exist on the hope of a granted wish however dear to them both.
William, Duke of Clarence, called at Kew and asked for an audience with the Queen.
When he was brought to her Charlotte looked at him quizzically. He was not very attractive, she had to admit. He had never had half George’s looks; none of them had, but the others had more presence than William. She had always known it had been a mistake to send him to sea at such an early age. It had certainly not developed his royalty. She had told the King so a hundred times; but he had never taken any notice of her. Now of course he was shut away and had no say in matters at all; and it was hardly likely that he ever would.
It was too late to brood on William’s upbringing now that he was a man of fifty-two; at least he was a Prince, a son of a king and very likely would be the father of one. He had the family’s jaw and protuberant eyes – all the faults of the family which she fondly assured herself George had missed – and she had heard it said that his head was the shape of a pineapple. She could see what was meant by that. No, poor William was not the most attractive of her sons; but the death of young Charlotte had made him one of the most important, due to the unfortunate matrimonial difficulties of his two elder brothers.
‘William, my dear son,’ she said perfunctorily.
‘How are you today, Mamma?’
‘Not as well as I would wish to be. But who of us is? My rheumatism was not improved by the Bath waters. But that may have been due to the shock of Charlotte’s death.’
‘It grieves me to hear it.’
‘I think we are all grieved by this terrible calamity.’
‘I was referring to your rheumatism, Mamma,’ said William.
‘Thank you. But that is a small matter
‘I see that it is imperative to do so.’
The Queen sighed with relief. ‘I knew you would. There may be some opposition from Edward.’
‘You mean because of Madame de St Laurent.’
‘I do. But I do not think that even he will want to turn his back on the possibility of giving us the future ruler of England.’
‘Perhaps not.’
‘The two Princesses will have to be considered carefully. While Adelaide is unmarried – and no longer so young for I believe she is twenty-five or twenty-six – Victoria is a young widow and as such accustomed to a little freedom. Victoria I think may have to be wooed a little; with Adelaide it will be the normal procedure – a match arranged between us on one side and her parents on the other. In the circumstances I suggest Adelaide for William and Victoria for Edward.’
The Regent nodded. He saw the point. William had proved himself rather frequently to have little charm as a wooer and had won a reputation as the most rejected Prince of his time. It would be unwise to send him wooing the Princess Victoria. Therefore quite clearly he must have Adelaide and Edward Victoria.
‘I see, Madre,’ said the Regent, ‘that you have settled the matter as I would have done myself.’
‘My dear son, then you will lose no time in setting these matters in motion?’
‘I shall do so without delay. We are all growing so old, alas, that there is little time to be lost. But I will tell you something.’
Her cold face was touched with sudden warmth and she looked almost handsome for a second. His confidences were the delight of her life.
He put his head close to hers. ‘Caroline is behaving in quite a shocking manner. I don’t despair of ridding myself of her. And if I did … who knows, I might present the nation with the heir myself. What do you say to that?’
‘I would say,’ said the Queen fervently, ‘that Heaven had granted my dearest wish.’
They were silent for a moment contemplating that happy event.
But they both knew that the House of Hanover could not continue to exist on the hope of a granted wish however dear to them both.
William, Duke of Clarence, called at Kew and asked for an audience with the Queen.
When he was brought to her Charlotte looked at him quizzically. He was not very attractive, she had to admit. He had never had half George’s looks; none of them had, but the others had more presence than William. She had always known it had been a mistake to send him to sea at such an early age. It had certainly not developed his royalty. She had told the King so a hundred times; but he had never taken any notice of her. Now of course he was shut away and had no say in matters at all; and it was hardly likely that he ever would.
It was too late to brood on William’s upbringing now that he was a man of fifty-two; at least he was a Prince, a son of a king and very likely would be the father of one. He had the family’s jaw and protuberant eyes – all the faults of the family which she fondly assured herself George had missed – and she had heard it said that his head was the shape of a pineapple. She could see what was meant by that. No, poor William was not the most attractive of her sons; but the death of young Charlotte had made him one of the most important, due to the unfortunate matrimonial difficulties of his two elder brothers.
‘William, my dear son,’ she said perfunctorily.
‘How are you today, Mamma?’
‘Not as well as I would wish to be. But who of us is? My rheumatism was not improved by the Bath waters. But that may have been due to the shock of Charlotte’s death.’
‘It grieves me to hear it.’
‘I think we are all grieved by this terrible calamity.’
‘I was referring to your rheumatism, Mamma,’ said William.
‘Thank you. But that is a small matter
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