Chapter 33
“I believe I forgot to tell you I was made a Duke.”
―Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, in a postscript to his brother
Nobles packed the throne room of St James’s until they stood near shoulder to shoulder.
It was to be one of the last Courts of the season, but that was not why so many had turned out.
Everyone was interested in finding out just how deep Marian Fitzroy’s treachery went, and no one wanted to miss the chance to pose a well-placed question to those in the know.
When Charity arrived with Perry and Lark, the crowd parted to make space for them.
It irked Charity that it was not out of any respect so much as fear.
Marian Fitzroy’s name was on everyone’s lips, and many were speculating they had been convened to see the Crown pass judgement on Lord Fitzroy’s head.
Perry was wearing his armour again to protect himself. She noted the expression of boredom and slight superciliousness that others would interpret as cold disinterest. It was the one that allowed him to pretend he was not affected by their words. However, she was not fooled by the facade.
Selina, Lord Ravenscroft, and Sir Nathaniel were among the very few to offer them a welcome smile, Lord and Lady Barbour being the others.
Lord Castlereagh appeared to still be holding a grudge over being left in the dark about the events at the Guildhall.
Lord Sidmouth limited himself to a warm nod of acknowledgment.
Charity kept a tight hold on Perry’s arm and her head held high as they made their way to the front of the room. Lark split off when they reached the base of the raised dais where the empty thrones sat waiting, positioning herself just off to the side.
As if by plan, Selina, Ravenscroft, and Sir Nathaniel slid into place behind the couple, lending them their silent support. The rap of a staff on the wooden floor put a stop to all the murmurs.
“Their Royal Highnesses the Prince Regent, Queen Charlotte, and Princess Charlotte Augusta,” the footman announced in ringing tones. The crowd bowed and curtseyed as the monarchs entered.
The Prince Regent strode in first, his countenance free of the lines that had creased his brow and his back unbent of the weight of the days of entertaining.
“The departure of a certain Grand Duchess has taken years off Prinny’s face,” Ravenscroft whispered just loud enough for their little group to hear. Charity barely stifled a laugh.
Indeed, Her Imperial Highness had claimed a desire to spend more time with her family, and had set off with the Russian entourage for the continent.
Prinny had every reason to be relieved, for there was now no one left in England daring enough to demand the orchestra play a tune other than the one he selected.
Well, no one other than his dear mother, Queen Charlotte, but the Queen had far better ways to spend her time than on such trivialities. Her discerning eye scanned the faces in the room, and a slight frown marred her features, as if she were silently judging her subjects and finding them wanting.
The Princess entered last, with a serene smile on her face. As her father and grandmother ascended to their thrones, she chose to stand at Lady Lark’s side.
Prinny waited for his mother to sit and then raised his arms to address the gathered crowd. “Another Season approaches its end, this one more eventful than most—”
“That is an understatement…” Selina murmured.
“After spending so many hours entertaining our allies and friends, we shall all soon depart London for a well-deserved break. Before we go,” His Highness continued, “there remain a few outstanding official matters.”
Charity shifted even closer to Perry, and he gave her hand on his arm a fond pat. This was it, the moment they had both dreamed of.
“In the privacy of the Chapel Royal, my mother the Queen and I played host and witness to a most intimate of ceremonies. A marriage.”
A flurry of whispers ran through the room, and Charity noted many gazes shift from Prinny’s face to over where the princess stood.
“It is my pleasure to introduce to this court, Lord Fitzroy and—” the Regent stumbled briefly, “and his lady wife, the former Duchess of Atholl. Please join me in wishing the newlyweds many years of happiness.”
His announcement reverberated through the room, stunning the attendees into silence. Whatever they had expected, this news was not it, and no one knew how to react.
It was the Queen who broke the hush, raising her gloved hands into the air for a muffled applause. Selina and Lord Ravenscroft followed, offering their hearty congrats. Sir Nathaniel laid his right hand on Perry’s shoulder, and soon others chimed in with their well wishes.
If Lord and Lady Cresswell sulked in the far corner of the room, Charity chose not to see them. There was no space in her life for ill will.
The footman banged his staff again, restoring order to the room.
Prinny took a deep breath and carried on. “My lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is not often that I have the happy task of rewarding true service to the Crown. Far too many perform their duties because they must; too few because they ought.
“On this day, let it be known by all that Lord Peregrine Fitzroy has done both, with honour, with courage, and with such maddening discretion that even I was the last to learn the full measure of his deeds!”
He moved then, leaving the dais behind to descend the few steps to the floor, accepting a bright blue sash from the footman.
“By command of His Majesty,” His Highness said, his voice solemn, “you are invested with the Most Noble Order of the Garter.”
For an instant, Perry seemed carved from stone, his whole body tensing as every line of him held in rigid disbelief. Charity’s breath caught, her heart stumbling as the words sank in. The Order of the Garter, the highest honour awarded by the Crown. For a heartbeat, she could not move.
Then, as the meaning struck home, Perry let go of Charity’s arm and stepped forward to receive the unexpected reward.
Before all, Prinny lifted the sash and draped it across Perry’s shoulder, the silver star glinting against Perry’s black superfine coat.
Then, taking the velvet garter from the herald’s hands, he touched it lightly to Perry’s knee.
It was a gesture more symbolic than practical, yet one that carried the weight of centuries.
When the blue sash fell across Perry’s shoulder, he bowed his head lower, not so much to the Regent, but to the memory of all that had brought him to this moment.
Then, he knelt in a bow of profound obeisance, showing the Prince Regent the deepest of respect, and Charity’s heart went with him.
Prinny rested a hand on Perry’s bowed head. “Let it be remembered that loyalty such as his strengthens not only the throne, but England herself.”
When Perry rose, the blue of the sash gleaming against his coat, the applause swelled, polite at first, then real. She pressed her fingers together to stop them trembling, the ache in her throat both joy and relief.
Prinny, it seemed, was not done. “From this day forward, you shall bear the title Duke of Fitzroy, a name that shall stand for loyalty, courage, and the quiet strength that England herself esteems.”
None was more stunned than Perry himself, and his mouth dropped open in shock.
For her part, Charity’s mind reeled. Her stunned gaze shifted right to the throne where the Queen was sitting.
Her Majesty’s mouth twisted into a very satisfied smile, all but telling Charity exactly who was responsible for saving her from being known as the new Lady Fitzroy.
Charity would remain Her Grace—but this time as Duchess of Fitzroy.
The Prince Regent returned to his place and finally sat on the throne. “Mother, I believe you have something else to add?”
Charity could not even hazard a guess what the Queen might say next. Already, she was well past the limits of her imagination.
The Queen cleared her throat. “I would be remiss if I did not recognise Her Grace, for she too has shown to be the most honourable of subjects. Therefore, we are granting her a private warrant. She might attend court only when she wishes. Her loyalty has been proven beyond question.”
With those few words, the Queen released Charity from all obligations, present and future.
When Charity had stood her ground at Frogmore, not shying away from defending the action that was morally right, Charlotte had been incensed.
But she appeared to be acknowledging her respect for that courage now.
It was trust she was giving—and freedom to stand apart.
Perry wrapped an arm around Charity’s waist and pulled her against him. They propped one another up as the sheer volume of disbelief made them both weak in the knees.
Charity heard little of what came next, her mind awhirl with the implications.
She was freer than any other Englishwoman had been.
Honoured and relieved of the burden of rushing to Court at every royal’s whim.
She and Perry could live as they chose, travel where they wanted, without needing to seek any sort of royal permission.
She had no idea how they would spend the rest of their lives, but that did not matter. There was time enough to dream together.
Lord Ravenscroft and Sir Nathaniel each received medals of valour, and Selina was also recognised, though in her case, it was a gift very much with strings attached. She was named a lady-in-waiting, a title that neatly tied her to the Queen.
Strangely, Selina did not seem overwrought to find herself in such a position.
With the ceremony at an end, the footman invited all to move to the nearby Assembly Room for celebratory glasses of champagne. The royals filed out, with Lark staying close to the Princess’s side.