‘Your Majesty?’
‘He asks a favour for Bute. “Groom of the Stole,” he says. “I know of no one who could better fill the role, nor one whom it would please me better to have about me.” No, I’m sure he doesn’t. Who’s put him up to that, do you think? Mamma! Let’s have him Groom of the Stole to the Prince as well as Stallion in Chief to the Princess. This is my witless nincompoop of a grandson, Waldegrave.’
‘Sire, I doubt not your ministers would decide the Prince should choose the members of his own household.’
‘But he has to come to me for the key, eh. He has, in fact, to have my assent. I’ll tell you this, Waldegrave, I’d meant this office for you. You’ve done good service and it was to be your reward.’
‘Sire, I shall be happy indeed to retire from the Prince’s household.’
‘Well, that’s what it will mean, Waldegrave, that’s what it will mean. He’s of age now. No place for a tutor. He’s a man at last… so they tell me. But I fail to see it.’
‘Your Majesty, I beg of you have no regrets on my account, for I shall retire from the Prince’s household with none.’
‘I know well your opinion of the boy.’
‘He is not a bad boy, Your Majesty, but by no means bright. He is not ill-natured; he simply cannot apply himself.’
‘In other words, he’s a fool. Don’t mince your words, Waldegrave. He’s my grandson, but he takes after his father. Fred was the biggest fool in Christendom and a rogue into the bargain. This young whelp is not that… yet. But, believe me, that mother of his and her Scot will make him so. Depend upon it. Depend upon it.’ The King looked at the watch which was hanging on his coat. ‘In five minutes I must call on the Countess of Yarmouth. Never fear, though. I shall have something to say to young George.’
Waldegrave took his leave. Still making love by the clock. Those rages of his were alarming. One of these days… thought Waldegrave, and surely that day not far distant… then young George!
Not a very hopeful prospect, thought Waldegrave; but he must be thankful that at last he was free of his duties with the Prince. He had never wanted them; and was delighted to find they were at an end.
Groom of the Stole indeed! Let Bute have it. His own idea was to put as big a distance as possible between himself and that uninteresting young man.
The King was angry. Newcastle and Henry Fox had just left him. He must, they had told him, respect the wishes of the Prince of Wales, and if the young man decided he preferred to live with his mother, then he should do so. The people would not be pleased if the King tried to interfere with his grandson’s domestic arrangements.
‘And I am not pleased that he defies my wishes.’
‘Your Majesty will remember your own case, and the feelings of the people. They were with you against your father. They would be with the Prince of Wales now.’
‘If he can’t be gracious enough to accept my offer of apartments he can forget about his allowance.’
‘It is a matter for the government, Your Majesty.’
‘A pox on the government!’
Silence for the outburst to subside.
‘So I am to have that puppy dictate to me?’
‘It would be the wish of the people and Your Majesty’s government. The custom is that when the Prince of Wales comes of age his allowance is increased. The sum has been set aside…’
‘So he is to dictate to us, is he?’
‘It is the custom, Your Majesty.’
‘So be it, then. Give him the money. Let him go his own way. I hear he’s an ignorant young fool and knows nothing. I was giving him a chance to learn… a chance to acquire an understanding of state matters…’
The ministers were silent. The King faced them, his rage subsiding suddenly; his voice breaking with emotion.
‘I thank God his grandmother is not here to see this day.’
The King summoned the Duke of Grafton.
‘You’re a member of the Prince’s household.’
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
‘I have something here I wish you to pass on to a man I have no wish to see here.’
Grafton murmured in surprise: ‘At Your Majesty’s service.’
The King went to a drawer and took out a golden key – the badge of office for the Groom of the Stole.
‘The Prince wishes to bestow this on a certain gentle… on a certain person. It is against my wishes that it should be bestowed on this person. But, my ministers inform me, it is for the Prince to choose the officers of his own household, so my wishes in this matter are ignored. Ignored, I say.’ His voice rose to a shout; and Grafton lowered his eyes. ‘Hey,’ went on the King, ‘take it, Grafton, and give it to the person for whom the Prince intends it.’
‘That is, Your Majesty?’
‘Lord Bute. I don’t want that Scottish fellow in my presence. My Ministers inform me that he is to have the key. Very well, he shall have it, but by God, I’ll not give it to him. Here, take it. Give it to him. Tell him it comes to him with my displeasure. I’ll tell you this, Grafton, if that Scotsman came within a few inches of my foot I’d be ready to kick him so hard he’d go hurtling back across the Border where he belongs.’
‘I will see that the key is delivered, Your Majesty.’
On his way from the Prince’s apartments where he had been to congratulate him on the success of their firm stand against the King, Lord Bute met the Duke of Grafton. Grafton was looking rather uneasy as he paused, exchanged a few words and muttered that he had just come from the King.
‘And he was in his usual humour by the look of you.’
Grafton lifted his shoulder and slipped something into Bute’s pocket.
‘Don’t be put out,’ he said. ‘It was ungraciously given but at least it is yours and he could not withhold it.’
‘What…’ cried Bute putting his hand into his pocket and drawing out the gold key.
‘It is yours since you are to be the Prince’s Groom of the Stole.’
‘But the King…’
‘Would not present it to you himself. He asked me to slip it to you.’
‘But… it is an insult.’
‘My dear fellow, George is insulting someone every minute of his life. He always has. It’s a habit. And you know his habits. Don’t take it to heart.’
‘Do you mean to say he wouldn’t even see me to hand me the key?’
‘That’s it. However, you have the key and that’s all that matters.’
‘Yes,’ said Bute slowly. ‘I have the key.’
But it was an insult none the less.
There was another shock ahead of him. Miss Elizabeth Chudleigh was waiting to have a word with him. He was surprised. He wondered why she should wish to see him and for a moment he thought she had come to give him some news of George’s Quakeress.
She was a very beautiful woman, Miss Chudleigh – beautiful, bold and brazen. He was certain that she had passed through many adventures, and wondered why she had not married. Not still mourning for Hamilton surely; it was years since he had married the famous beauty Elizabeth Gunning.
‘It is good of you to call on me,’ said Bute, and she smiled her very bold smile and he wondered whether it held an invitation. He would have to let her know that there was no place in his affection even for such an exciting woman. He could consider no other mistress but the Princess Augusta. ‘I am glad that you did. I wanted to congratulate you on the very excellent entertainment you gave for the Prince’s birthday. His Highness was delighted and felt it was so good of you to take such pains to please him.’