The Prince and the Quakeress: (Georgian Series) by Jean Plaidy Page A
Authors: Jean Plaidy
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importance; she could form her own opinions; no need now to wait until her lord and master voiced his views before she declared her own. Now she could think as she liked, speak as she liked.
This would be the last of her children. That saddened her a little. She liked children; and she was pleased with her brood. They should be hers, entirely hers, she thought passionately; and no one – no King on Earth – was going to take them from her.
They might say that children in such a position needed the guiding hand of a father. They should have it; for she knew of one who would be to them all that a father could possibly be. He would be waiting now… As soon as she was well; as soon as she was able to receive him… The time to which they had both looked forward with such intense longing was very close.
It was perhaps a little unseemly to be thinking of that now,while she lay abed with the Prince’s child. So she would direct her thoughts from such imminent joys and think as the parent of fatherless children should.
George! Her thoughts could always come uneasily to him. She did not like his tutors. And why should she tolerate those she did not like? Why should she allow the boy’s grandfather to dictate to her? She was his mother; she cared for him as his grandfather never could care for anyone except his silly strutting self. No, she was going to take charge of George’s upbringing, and no one was going to prevent her.
She thought of George’s father, grandfather and great-grandfather. Women! That was their chief pleasure and occupation. There was a strong streak of sensuality in the family; and George must be protected from it.
George at the moment was an innocent boy who knew little of the world. It was true he was just entering into his teens, but he was exceptionally innocent. She was going to keep him like that. He should not mingle with the boys of his own age who inhabited his grandfather’s Court. That place was a sink of iniquity. How long would George keep his innocence there?
No, George was going to be protected, and she his mother would protect him.
What a glorious future! She was free to make her own life. She had done with childbearing and she had a fine family to show for the arduous years. She had cast off her yoke and now she would do what she wished. And one thing she wished was to control her son, the Prince of Wales, so that when the time came for him to be King of England his mother would be beside him – the true ruler of the country.
There might be one other to stand with her. He was coming to see her now. A little unorthodox. Oh, but he had been such a friend of the Prince of Wales!
His presence filled the bedchamber – such poise, such authority, such looks.
His smile was tender.
‘I trust Your Royal Highness will soon be restored to perfect health.’
‘Thank you, my Lord Bute. I am sure this will be so.’
Lingering looks, full of plans for the future.
This was living as she had never lived before, thought the Dowager Princess of Wales; this was freedom.
*
It would have been a pleasant enough household but for the dissensions among his tutors, thought George. But there was continual intrigue in the schoolroom. This was one of the penalties of being Prince of Wales.
He and his brothers and sisters never met people of their own ages because their mother was afraid that they would be contaminated. She wanted to keep her children pure and innocent, she said, and saw no reason for bringing to their notice the unpleasant side of life before they need be faced with it.
She wanted George to confide in her – her and dear Lord Bute who was in constant attendance. No one could have the children’s welfare more at heart than dear Lord Bute and she wanted them to know it. But George knew this very well; his adoration for Lord Bute almost equalled that of his mother for the noble lord. Every problem he discussed with his dear uncle; and no one had ever been more kind; never did he
This would be the last of her children. That saddened her a little. She liked children; and she was pleased with her brood. They should be hers, entirely hers, she thought passionately; and no one – no King on Earth – was going to take them from her.
They might say that children in such a position needed the guiding hand of a father. They should have it; for she knew of one who would be to them all that a father could possibly be. He would be waiting now… As soon as she was well; as soon as she was able to receive him… The time to which they had both looked forward with such intense longing was very close.
It was perhaps a little unseemly to be thinking of that now,while she lay abed with the Prince’s child. So she would direct her thoughts from such imminent joys and think as the parent of fatherless children should.
George! Her thoughts could always come uneasily to him. She did not like his tutors. And why should she tolerate those she did not like? Why should she allow the boy’s grandfather to dictate to her? She was his mother; she cared for him as his grandfather never could care for anyone except his silly strutting self. No, she was going to take charge of George’s upbringing, and no one was going to prevent her.
She thought of George’s father, grandfather and great-grandfather. Women! That was their chief pleasure and occupation. There was a strong streak of sensuality in the family; and George must be protected from it.
George at the moment was an innocent boy who knew little of the world. It was true he was just entering into his teens, but he was exceptionally innocent. She was going to keep him like that. He should not mingle with the boys of his own age who inhabited his grandfather’s Court. That place was a sink of iniquity. How long would George keep his innocence there?
No, George was going to be protected, and she his mother would protect him.
What a glorious future! She was free to make her own life. She had done with childbearing and she had a fine family to show for the arduous years. She had cast off her yoke and now she would do what she wished. And one thing she wished was to control her son, the Prince of Wales, so that when the time came for him to be King of England his mother would be beside him – the true ruler of the country.
There might be one other to stand with her. He was coming to see her now. A little unorthodox. Oh, but he had been such a friend of the Prince of Wales!
His presence filled the bedchamber – such poise, such authority, such looks.
His smile was tender.
‘I trust Your Royal Highness will soon be restored to perfect health.’
‘Thank you, my Lord Bute. I am sure this will be so.’
Lingering looks, full of plans for the future.
This was living as she had never lived before, thought the Dowager Princess of Wales; this was freedom.
*
It would have been a pleasant enough household but for the dissensions among his tutors, thought George. But there was continual intrigue in the schoolroom. This was one of the penalties of being Prince of Wales.
He and his brothers and sisters never met people of their own ages because their mother was afraid that they would be contaminated. She wanted to keep her children pure and innocent, she said, and saw no reason for bringing to their notice the unpleasant side of life before they need be faced with it.
She wanted George to confide in her – her and dear Lord Bute who was in constant attendance. No one could have the children’s welfare more at heart than dear Lord Bute and she wanted them to know it. But George knew this very well; his adoration for Lord Bute almost equalled that of his mother for the noble lord. Every problem he discussed with his dear uncle; and no one had ever been more kind; never did he
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