All the same, she insisted, I shall go. The King was happier than he had been for a long time, because he was in love. He had found the perfect woman in the Marchioness of Conyngham. Fair, fat and fifty, mother of five grown-up children, easy going, gentle, adoring— she was exactly what he had been looking for. She was completely uncritical and content only to listen and admire.
He was behaving as he had in his youth. He would sit and gaze at her in wonderment. He might have been a boy of seventeen. That this was a rather ridiculous attitude for an extremely plump and ageing monarch was left in no doubt, for the cartoonists and lampoonists were soon busy. She never argued, only agreed; she looked pretty; her blue eyes were still beautiful and her brow had never been wrinkled in concentration. How different from the waspish Lady Jersey, the frigid Lady Hertford and the hot-tempered Maria with her obsession about her religion and right and wrong.
Yes, he was happy. And the Marquis of Conyngham was the most complaisant of husbands. He raised no objections. He accepted the honours handed lavishly to him and his children as graciously and gratefully as his wife accepted the jewels, which the King delighted to give her.
He begged her to make full use of his palaces, his carriages, his horses. They were all at her disposal.
‘Do everything you please,’ he entreated her, ‘and then you will please me.’
And Lady Conyngham replied as he would have expected her to that only if she pleased him could she be pleased.
He wept. She did so much to make him happy in the most trying circumstances, he told her.
And the trying circumstances were across the Channel threatening to arrive and break his peace at any moment.
Queen! Why should that woman have that proud title? How much better it would suit dear Lady Conyngham. And yet even she could not give him children.
He struck Caroline’s name from the Liturgy and he reiterated to his ministers: I must have a divorce. A divorce, thought Brougham. That would involve a case— a costly case, a case in which he would defend the Queen and as he reckoned himself to be the ablest lawyer in England, he would win. What fame that would bring! He could laugh at Eldon then for denying him silk.
A case for divorce. It was a situation greatly to be desired.
Meanwhile Caroline had appointed him her attorney-general which meant that he was now called to the Bar. This was the first step forward. Lord Liverpool who was Prime Minister promptly called on Brougham and told him that the King was very anxious that the Queen should not return to England.
‘As her attorney you should advise her to remain abroad.’
Accusations had been brought against Her Majesty, pointed out Brougham.
Did the Prime Minister suggest that she should make no attempt to clear her name?
‘The accusations do not appear to be without some foundation,’ was the grim reply.
‘They are of such a grave nature,’ was Brougham’s answer, ‘that it is unwise to speak of them. It might be that it will be necessary to have Her Majesty’s name cleared publicly.’
Lord Liverpool understood. That was what Brougham wanted. Clearly he was visualizing a cause célèbre with himself in the centre of it— a chance to show the world what a brilliant lawyer he was.
‘Do you realize that if it came to that point it would be the Queen versus the King?’
‘I do not see what else it could be.’
‘It is not easy to stand against kings.’
‘Not easy, I agree,’ said Brougham.
‘I bring a proposition to you. You may offer her £50,000 if she will live abroad.’
‘£50,000!’ said Brougham lifting his eyebrows.
‘A comfortable sum of money.’
‘Very comfortable.’
‘If she is wise she will take it. I look forward to hearing her comments.’
When Liverpool had left Brougham thought: £50,000 and no case. That did not suit him at all. He decided he would not pass on this information to his royal client.
Caroline was making her preparations to return to England. There had been a subtle change in the treatment which had been accorded her by those who had hitherto been her friends. She guessed what had happened. It had been suggested to them that their hospitality and friendship for her meant that they were behaving in an unfriendly manner to the King of England. How he hates me! she thought.
How he hounds me! And what was he doing at home? Rumours came to her and she did not really need to be told. He was preparing a case against her because he was going to attempt to divorce her. ‘Let him,’ she cried. ‘He’ll not succeed.’
She laughed in her usual wild way with Lady Anne Hamilton. Dear creature, she thought, she had served her well in England and when she knew that her English attendants had made excuses to desert her had come out to be with her.
Lady Charlotte Campbell had married a Mr. Edward Bury two years before and she could not expect her to desert her new husband to serve an old mistress. But she was delighted with Lady Anne, for in her she found a true friend.
She discussed her thoughts freely.
‘He will try to divorce me, dear Lady Anne. He’s going to try to prove adultery and he’ll fail. I’ll tell you a secret. I did commit adultery once. Shall I tell with whom?’
Lady Anne looked startled and Caroline burst into loud laughter. ‘It was with Mrs. Fitzherbert’s husband.’
Lady Anne was relieved. Like everyone else in the Princess’s suite she had feared that her indiscretions meant she had at least taken Pergami as her lover.
If she is innocent, Lady Anne reassured herself, they will be able to prove nothing against her.
She felt very relieved.
Caroline’s party had left Italy and were travelling through Burgundy when Sir Matthew Wood arrived. She received him with great pleasure for he had been a friend of Sir Samuel Whitbread and since Sir Samuel’s suicide had written to her frequently.
Here was a man whom she knew she could trust. He had sent his son William Page Wood to her some weeks before because young William was a linguist and Sir Matthew guessed that while some of her Italian staff stayed with her, she would not bring Pergami to England with her, and that she would therefore need an interpreter.
Caroline was well aware that the scandals which had been circulating about her mainly concerned Pergami and she realized that to bring him to England would be construed as an admission that he was her lover, for in England she would naturally have no need for an Italian chamberlain. Pergami was well aware of this and was reconciled to the parting. He had planned to accompany her to Calais and then return to Italy.
Therefore the services of young Wood were very desirable, particularly as he was a charming boy who had been told by his father to serve her to the best of his ability.
So now it was doubly pleasant to greet Sir Matthew.
He had come, he said, to escort her back to England.
‘My dear, dear friend. I know I can rely on you.’
He was a little shocked by her appearance. She looked as rakish as ever but even the lavish application of rouge could not hide the change in her. Sir Matthew believed that the reports she must have heard were giving her sleepless nights.
She was even more talkative than usual; she laughed louder. She was aware of this. It was because of the pain which was recurring more frequently.
Sir Matthew told her a case was being prepared against her and she would have to answer it when she returned to England.
‘I’m ready,’ she replied.
‘The people will be on your side,’ he reassured her. ‘I am certain of that. The Crown has not brought His Majesty popularity.’