mistakenly that she could be Queen of England.
*
And while the wedding was being discussed in the schoolroom, the Princess and Lord Bute were also talking of it.
There was to be no delay. In spite of the death of the Grand Duchess, the plans would go on as previously arranged.
‘She will be here soon,’ said the Princess Dowager of Wales. ‘I confess I shall not feel safe until she is.’
‘Never fear,’ soothed Lord Bute. ‘All will be well.’
He fervently hoped so. He was about to climb to the top of the pinnacle towards which he had patiently striven ever since he had seen the way to favour through George who was now the King.
Prime Minister, he thought. I shall rule this land. There is no end to the power which will be mine. Pitt will have to do as he’s told … or go. And Pitt would never be able to let go; he was too ambitious.
I’ll use Pitt, thought Bute. He’s too good a man to lose. But he’ll have to realize who is his master.
He smiled fondly at the Princess. They were in agreement. The sooner George was safely married the better. And the Princess Charlotte was ideal. Plain, so that she would not enslave George; daughter of a very minor dukedom, so that she should be forever grateful; and not speaking a word of English so that she could not wheedle with her tongue at any rate.
All would be well – and once the wedding was over they would feel so safe.
*
George too was thinking of the wedding.
Sarah, Hannah, Charlotte. He saw them all in turn. The two first so vividly – the shadowy charm of Hannah, the vital beauty of Sarah; and he turned away from those two and saw a Princess whom he endowed with their grace and beauty.
Charlotte. He kept saying her name over and over again. And he longed for her coming because it would end the uncertainty, and he was sure that once he saw her, once he had taken his vows neither Sarah nor Hannah would torment him. They would be banished from his thoughts for ever, for no faithful husband gave a thought to other women.
‘And I will be faithful,’ he assured himself. ‘I am impatient for her arrival and for the moment when she shall be joined to me … forever, I hope. And I pray God that He will make her fruitful.’
And all through the hot August days the whole Court talked of the wedding.
Royal Wedding
THE COURT OF Mecklenburg might be in mourning but there was to be no delay in the marriage ceremony. This was the order of the Duke.
He sent for Charlotte – bewildered Charlotte – who had so recently lost her mother, but was to gain a husband. Poor Christina had nothing to gain, thought Charlotte, but at least she remains at a Court familiar to her.
The Duke regarded his sister with the increased affection which he had felt for her since the King of England desired her for his bride.
‘My dear sister,’ he said, embracing her somewhat curtly, as a duty, thought Charlotte, and as an acknowledgement of her new importance, ‘I understand your grief for your mother. It is a grief I share. I have been thinking of the postponement of your marriage and I can see no good that can come from it.’
‘A wedding so soon after a funeral …’ began Charlotte.
But her brother silenced her. He had not summoned her that he might hear her views, but in order that she might hear his.
‘It is the best way to forget your grief,’ he told her. ‘I have asked that there shall be no delay.’
‘But …’
‘I am thinking of you, sister. This is what our mother would have wished. She knows you mourn in your heart. Your husband will comfort you.’
‘And Christina …?’
Her brother raised his eyebrows. Christina had been foolish; she had fallen in love with an English duke. That would not have been an impossible union but for the clause in Charlotte’s marriage contract; as it was the affair had ceased to exist as far as the Duke was concerned, and Charlotte was extremely indiscreet to have mentioned it. But Charlotte could be indiscreet. There
*
And while the wedding was being discussed in the schoolroom, the Princess and Lord Bute were also talking of it.
There was to be no delay. In spite of the death of the Grand Duchess, the plans would go on as previously arranged.
‘She will be here soon,’ said the Princess Dowager of Wales. ‘I confess I shall not feel safe until she is.’
‘Never fear,’ soothed Lord Bute. ‘All will be well.’
He fervently hoped so. He was about to climb to the top of the pinnacle towards which he had patiently striven ever since he had seen the way to favour through George who was now the King.
Prime Minister, he thought. I shall rule this land. There is no end to the power which will be mine. Pitt will have to do as he’s told … or go. And Pitt would never be able to let go; he was too ambitious.
I’ll use Pitt, thought Bute. He’s too good a man to lose. But he’ll have to realize who is his master.
He smiled fondly at the Princess. They were in agreement. The sooner George was safely married the better. And the Princess Charlotte was ideal. Plain, so that she would not enslave George; daughter of a very minor dukedom, so that she should be forever grateful; and not speaking a word of English so that she could not wheedle with her tongue at any rate.
All would be well – and once the wedding was over they would feel so safe.
*
George too was thinking of the wedding.
Sarah, Hannah, Charlotte. He saw them all in turn. The two first so vividly – the shadowy charm of Hannah, the vital beauty of Sarah; and he turned away from those two and saw a Princess whom he endowed with their grace and beauty.
Charlotte. He kept saying her name over and over again. And he longed for her coming because it would end the uncertainty, and he was sure that once he saw her, once he had taken his vows neither Sarah nor Hannah would torment him. They would be banished from his thoughts for ever, for no faithful husband gave a thought to other women.
‘And I will be faithful,’ he assured himself. ‘I am impatient for her arrival and for the moment when she shall be joined to me … forever, I hope. And I pray God that He will make her fruitful.’
And all through the hot August days the whole Court talked of the wedding.
Royal Wedding
THE COURT OF Mecklenburg might be in mourning but there was to be no delay in the marriage ceremony. This was the order of the Duke.
He sent for Charlotte – bewildered Charlotte – who had so recently lost her mother, but was to gain a husband. Poor Christina had nothing to gain, thought Charlotte, but at least she remains at a Court familiar to her.
The Duke regarded his sister with the increased affection which he had felt for her since the King of England desired her for his bride.
‘My dear sister,’ he said, embracing her somewhat curtly, as a duty, thought Charlotte, and as an acknowledgement of her new importance, ‘I understand your grief for your mother. It is a grief I share. I have been thinking of the postponement of your marriage and I can see no good that can come from it.’
‘A wedding so soon after a funeral …’ began Charlotte.
But her brother silenced her. He had not summoned her that he might hear her views, but in order that she might hear his.
‘It is the best way to forget your grief,’ he told her. ‘I have asked that there shall be no delay.’
‘But …’
‘I am thinking of you, sister. This is what our mother would have wished. She knows you mourn in your heart. Your husband will comfort you.’
‘And Christina …?’
Her brother raised his eyebrows. Christina had been foolish; she had fallen in love with an English duke. That would not have been an impossible union but for the clause in Charlotte’s marriage contract; as it was the affair had ceased to exist as far as the Duke was concerned, and Charlotte was extremely indiscreet to have mentioned it. But Charlotte could be indiscreet. There
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