But he was young and there would be jostling for power. The rumours about the Princess were interesting. This Lord Bute seemed to be in constant attendance on the lady. For what purpose? They could guess, and whether it was true or not they were going to believe it was because it was more amusing that way. Bute and the Princess on one side – Newcastle and his henchmen on the other. There was going to be conflict; and this was what the people found amusing.
In the coffee and chocolate houses the latest gossip was discussed. The Whig writers vied with the Tory writers and the witty results of their labours brought great pleasure to all who read them.
So the conflict round the Prince was common knowledge and everyone waited to see who would be triumphant – Newcastle or the Princess Dowager.
The storm broke when Hayter came in and found George reading.
George was not a great reader. He was slow; but he was painstaking and if he took a long time to get through a book, at least he had read every word.
Scott and Stone had encouraged him to read. He should read history they assured him; the subject most necessary to Kings. He should have a good knowledge not only of his own country’s affairs but also those of his neighbours.
‘Your Highness is absorbed,’ said Hayter pleasantly.
George looked up, trying to bring his mind from the book’s subject to the Bishop.
‘It is an interesting book,’ said George. ‘Mr Stone recommended it and I am glad he did.’
‘May I see?’ asked Hayter.
‘But certainly.’
Hayter looked. ‘My God,’ he said. ‘Revolutions d’Angleterre! It’s by a Frenchman!’
‘It makes it doubly valuable… improving my knowledge of the language at the same time.’
‘At the same time as imbuing Your Highness with Jacobite sympathies?’
‘Jacobite sympathies…’ George stammered. ‘But… I could never have sympathies against my own family.’
‘Unless they were presented to Your Highness so cleverly, so attractively, that you felt them to be the truth.’
‘But…’
‘Your Highness says that Mr Stone gave you this book?’
‘Yes, but he thought…’
‘I must ask Your Highness to allow me to take this book.’
‘I have not finished…’
‘Nevertheless my duty impels me to take it.’
‘I… I…’
‘With Your Highness’s permission…’
George was always unsure how to deal with a situation of which he had had no experience, so he allowed the Bishop to take the book from him; he sat staring before him wondering what fresh trouble was about to break.
On his way to his mother’s apartment he met one of her maids of honour, Elizabeth Chudleigh. He blushed as he always did when he met her; she seemed to him such a wonderful woman. She must be about eighteen years older than he was, but he felt more at ease in the company of women older than himself than in that of younger ones. And Elizabeth seemed to possess the qualities he most admired. She was one of the most self-possessed persons in his mother’s entourage; she was flamboyant and beautiful, always resourceful, not caring a jot for all the scandal that surrounded her, and there was plenty of that. Only recently she had appeared at a ball at Somerset House as Iphigenia for the sacrifice, and her gown – or lack of it – had caused such a stir because it had appeared that she was naked. In truth she had been clad in flesh-coloured silk so tight that it gave the appearance of being a skin and this was decorated in appropriate places by fig leaves. She had laughed at the storm such an appearance had aroused.
There were many scandals about Elizabeth and George often wondered why he liked her so much. He did not usually care for people who were talked of. It was his grandfather perhaps who had brought scandal to Elizabeth’s name, for he had been taken with her when she first came to Court and had presented her with a watch which cost thirty-five pounds. Whether she had been his mistress or not George was unsure. There were many women who did refuse the King’s attentions; and although this irritated him, it did not necessarily result in their being banished from Court. Long ago the Duke of Hamilton had been greatly enamoured of her and they actually became engaged before he was sent off by his family on the Grand Tour. That romance came to nothing – it was foiled, some said by a maiden aunt of Elizabeth’s who had intercepted their correspondence and withheld it so that they both believed the other had broken the promise to remain faithful. Exciting events would always circulate about Elizabeth. She was doubtless engaged in some secret adventure at this time; but all the same she had time to spare for an uncertain boy.
‘You look disturbed, Your Highness,’ she said, with that charming concern which was half flirtatious, half motherly.
He told her about the book he had been reading and how Hayter had taken it from him.
She snapped her fingers. ‘He’s out to make trouble. Don’t give him another thought.’
‘But he is accusing Mr Stone of trying to make a Jacobite of me. Of me, Miss Chudleigh! Why how could I possibly be a Jacobite?’
‘I’ll tell Your Highness this: Hayter and Harcourt are only trying to make trouble. Just laugh at them<<<…<<<that’s all.’
‘I wish I were like you, Miss Chudleigh. Everything seems so easy for you.’
That made her laugh. ‘If only Your Highness knew,’ she whispered. Then she was motherly again. ‘Don’t worry. If you’re in any trouble, just let me know. You do understand, don’t you, that I’d put all my worldly wisdom at Your Highness’s disposal?’
‘Oh, Miss Chudleigh, I am sure you would.’
He meant it. It was comforting to think that he had the support of his mother, Uncle Bute and Miss Chudleigh.
The trouble came quickly. Hayter and Harcourt lost no time in laying their complaint against Mr Scott and Mr Stone before the Duke of Newcastle, who immediately took it to the King.
‘Young puppy,’ growled the King. ‘Ve should look into this. Vat does he think he is doing? Trying to drive himself off the throne before he’s reached it!’
The Dowager Princess was indignant. Because the Prince had read a book which put forward the case for James II it did not mean that he must agree with it.
‘If we are going to be accused of supporting every opinion of which we read we are going to be in difficulties. Do my lord Harcourt and my lord Bishop believe that we must read only one set of opinions, then? My son is heir to this throne. I should like him to study all opinions; only thus will he have a clear understanding of history.’
Newcastle was nonplussed. There had been too much shouting about the whole affair. Many men had read Revolutions d’Angleterre. Were they all going to be accused of harbouring Jacobite tendencies because of that?
Harcourt and Hayter believed themselves to be in a very strong position and declared that unless Stone and Scott were immediately dismissed, they would resign.
‘Dismiss Scott and Stone!’ cried the Princess. ‘But who, then, is going to teach my son? He learns little from my lord Harcourt or my lord Bishop. It is Mr Scott and Mr Stone who are the teachers.’