Chapter 9
“Do you think…” Charlotte’s eyes were round as marbles. “Could that possibly be the worst of it?”
Their landau turned at the end of Rotten Row and prepared to make its stately way back through Hyde Park.
Charlotte took a deep breath and realized it was her first easy one since she’d picked herself up from Lady Hervey’s parquet floor, clutching her shirt to her chest. “It seemed almost a bit too simple, but at least we can focus on Mother again.”
The dowager was too busy making a small choking sound to listen. Her hand dropped to Charlotte’s knee and she squeezed it hard.
“The queen! The queen! Sit up straight! Her Majesty is approaching!”
Rotten Row went dead silent as the queen’s carriage drew toward Charlotte and the dowager.
No birds dared to chirp, no breeze dared to blow, and even the broad trees that lined the path seemed to stand a little straighter, mimicking the footmen at rigid attention on the box behind Queen Charlotte, the Prince Regent’s mother, and her daughter, Princess Sophia.
Certainly no one on the promenade uttered a sound.
They were all too busy trying to listen, except for Mrs. Basildon-Hickinbottom, who was old and deaf and poked her daughter hard, crying, “Eh, eh? Heaven’s sake, Margaret! What are they saying?”
“Your Majesties,” said Lady Alice, bowing her head as the queen pulled alongside and stopped.
Four perfectly matched bay horses stood still as statues, waiting for the slightest signal from the coachman, who was dressed in so much gold frogging that Charlotte wondered if they ought to harness up another horse just to bear the weight of it.
Or perhaps the weight of the queen’s diamond rivière, which circled twice around her neck before falling in fat teardrops into the gathered lace of her fichu. “It’s an honor.”
The queen pursed her royal lips. “An honor I’m not convinced you deserve. Lady Alice, why have you let this child run wild through London all these years? I’ve brought up six girls without a whisper of disgrace, and yet you bungle the management of a single grandchild. How I wonder at you.”
Hot words leaped to Charlotte’s tongue, and the dowager squeezed her knee hard once more. The queen had borne fifteen royal children in total, and the only three who hadn’t caused some sort of scandal had died young. Of course, it didn’t seem prudent to offer that observation.
“I must admit I could use Your Majesty’s wisdom.” The dowager heaved a deep, dispirited sigh. “Lady Charlotte is a dear child and such a comfort to me as I face the grave, but she’s cursed with high spirits. Does Your Majesty remember how we were at that age? I’d be so grateful for your counsel.”
Something like a sparkle appeared in the queen’s eye, making her look younger, or at least less like her official portrait.
“Oh, give over, Alice! We’ve sat through too many lectures at the Horticultural Society together for you to lay it on quite that thick.
But a young lady alone at a masquerade? Rolling on the floor with a man? You must see it won’t do.”
Charlotte could feel the queen’s gaze rake over her face, and she lowered her eyes and tried to look suitably downcast, even as she boiled inside.
Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a proper audience with the queen where they might discuss something of actual interest. The silk trade, for instance, or the foolishness of a world where men held the purse strings and the power.
Perhaps if they broke out a bottle of very good burgundy, they could form a council of war and come up with a plot to push Prince George out so the queen could seize the regency?
“Your Majesty,” said Charlotte forcefully, “I—oof!”
The dowager, aware that her increasingly painful grip on Charlotte’s knee was having no effect, had elbowed her firmly in the midsection.
The queen smiled faintly. “Your grandmother’s quite right.
Silence serves you best, child.” She inclined her head toward the dowager.
“Lady Alice, I do in fact remember how we were at this girl’s age.
It quite concerns me! This child needs to settle down and it’s clear that only marriage will do.
I considered matching her with one of my boys”—it was all Charlotte could do not to whimper—“but the king would like to strengthen our ties overseas and prefers we look among the Hanoverian princesses.”
At this point, the queen sat up even straighter in her seat, her head held so high that it looked as if her egret plumes were poised to take flight.
She gathered herself with a deep inhalation, giving the listening ears the chance to lean a little closer and the watching eyes the chance to squint so they didn’t miss a thing.
“Lady Charlotte has the full support of the crown. However, she needs a good, steady hand to guide her.” The queen paused, and dread built in Charlotte’s stomach, cold and nauseating.
“All eligible gentlemen, step forward and extend your hands. Lady Charlotte is to be engaged by the first ball of the next Season, by your queen’s command! ”
The queen fixed the dowager’s carriage with a gimlet eye and lowered her voice so the next words were delivered to Charlotte alone. “Did you hear that, child? Find a husband by the end of the summer. Or else.”