‘Who travels with her?’ asked Aunt Maude.
‘She’s left the Italian rabble behind,’ said Father, ‘except, I believe, for her paramour’s sister.’
Countess Oldi had come to England then but Alessandro had stayed behind. At least the Queen had one of her ‘Italian family’ to support her.
‘Lady Charlotte Lindsay was asked to meet her at Dover,’ said Father, ‘and resume her position as lady-in-waiting, but the King warned her off. Alexander Hamilton, being such a staunch Whig of course, has allowed his sister to wait on her. Hoping to curry favour, no doubt. And that jackass Alderman Wood is with her, and the boy William Austin.’
‘What will happen now?’ I asked.
‘Since Caroline refused to agree terms with the King’s envoys, he’ll sue her for divorce on grounds of her infidelity.’
‘But what about the King’s infidelities?’
‘Emilia! It’s not fitting for a young, unmarried woman to ask such questions.’
‘But…’
‘I will discuss this with you no further! As if there isn’t enough to worry about with all that’s going on in the House, now I have to contend with discord in my own home.’
Still grumbling, Father left for the House of Commons.
I picked up his discarded copy of The Times and took it into the garden. A pink rose, just coming into bloom, scrambled over the wall behind an ironwork bench. I sat down in the sunshine and spread the paper over my lap.
Neither at the landing of William the Conqueror nor that of William III had any arrival in England caused such a sensation, I read. I wondered what the Queen had felt when she’d landed on these shores after four years abroad. I suspected she’d have chattered away in a cheerful manner, however anxious she might have felt inside. I could picture her waving gaily to the crowds and hoped they’d cheered her on.
The Times described the Queen as she walked to the Ship Hotel: Her blue eyes were shining with peculiar lustre but her cheeks had the appearance of a long intimacy with care and anxiety.
The anxieties of her situation on top of her enforced parting from the Baron and little Victorine must have been terribly hard for her, especially since she couldn’t know how long it would be until she was able to return to Pesaro.
I leaned back against the sun-warmed bench and watched a bee drift lazily past. The sun was hot on my shoulders. I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining I was back in Pesaro sitting on the cliffs of San Bartolo with Alessandro at my side, smelling the honey-scented wild broom and listening to the cries of the gulls over the turquoise sea. I’d had to come to England to find my family but, oh, I did so long to be with Alessandro!
Two nights later, angry shouts from down in the street awoke me. I heard shattering glass and leaped out of bed with my heart hammering. From out of the window I glimpsed a horde of men carrying flaming torches, chanting and waving sticks in the air as they passed by.
‘No Queen, no King!’ they yelled.
A man dressed in a nightgown leaned out of a second-floor window in the house opposite and a protestor called out, ‘Put a candle in the window to show your support for Queen Caroline!’
The observer shook his fist for reply. ‘Damned Queenites! Get away with you at once or I’ll call the constable!’
The demonstrators roared their displeasure and a hail of stones flew through the air, smashing his window panes. Jagged shards of glass crashed to the pavement below and skittered across the street.
The man shrieked and clasped his head, while the front of his nightgown grew dark with blood.
I jumped at the sound of a thunderous knocking on our front door. Snatching up my wrap, I hurried down to the first-floor landing. Leaning over the banister, I saw Father and James in the hall below. Their voices were raised in anger as they argued with several men standing on the doorstep.
‘Put a light in your windows in support of Queen Caroline!’ demanded one of the callers.
‘Never!’ Father replied vehemently.
‘You’ll be sorry if you don’t!’
Father slammed the front door so hard it reverberated throughout the house. ‘Ruffians!’
I hurried back upstairs, lit my candle and placed it on the windowsill. Father wouldn’t like it if he knew, even if it did save our windows, but I wanted to support the Queen in whatever way I could.
Downstairs, Father was shouting orders at James and I went to see if any damage had been done.
‘Unbelievable!’ Father said when he saw me. ‘Unruly rabble!’ He paced across the hall. ‘Queenites, indeed! They ought to be flogged… along with that spiteful hoyden Caroline of Brunswick for encouraging them.’ He shot the bolts home on the front door. ‘Now you can see why any decent and reasonable person wants to be rid of her. God knows how you stood being part of her household, Emilia.’
A firecracker went off in the street and voices chanted, ‘Long live Queen Caroline!’ and ‘No Queen, no King!’
Father turned to James, who was waiting for further orders. ‘Don’t just stand there, you dolt! Make sure the windows are fast. And bring me brandy!’
‘You’re not hurt, Father?’ I asked.
‘It takes more than a few troublemakers to rattle me.’ He strode to the front door and checked the bolts again.
‘Then I shall say goodnight,’ I told him.
Upstairs, I moved the candle to one side of my bedroom windowsill and looked down at the street. Men carrying flaming torches still milled about, waving sticks and chanting their support of the Queen. Glancing along the street, I noticed several of the houses had placed lights in their windows, either out of fear or in genuine support for the Queen.
Eventually the disturbance faded away as the men marched off to break windows elsewhere. I returned to bed and pulled the covers up to my chin.
Somewhere a dog barked, the sound echoing down the deserted street, and, at last, I slept.
In the morning I found the front door open. Father was on the steps surveying the street and a number of servants were sweeping up shards of broken glass. At the house opposite a glazier in a brown apron was boarding up the downstairs windows.
‘Disgraceful!’ said Father. ‘There’s broken glass everywhere! The Queenite louts didn’t dare damage my house, though.’ He planted his hands on his hips and gave me a smug smile. ‘They didn’t like it when I stood up to them and slammed the door in their grubby faces.’
‘We were lucky,’ I said.
‘No luck about it,’ said Father. ‘You have to stand firm and show the beggars you simply won’t have it.’
‘Yes, Father,’ I said, reminding myself to take the candlestick off my bedroom windowsill.
‘In any case, I heard yesterday the King is set on a divorce and he won’t change his mind to please the mob. He’s sent Lord Liverpool two Green Bags of evidence against his wife from the Milan Commission. A committee will have to be set up to examine it.’
Father took himself off to his study and I went to the morning room where Aunt Maude was waiting for me.
‘Did you manage to sleep through the commotion last night?’ I asked.
She smiled. ‘I sleep very lightly these days. It was rather exciting, didn’t you think? I worry for the horses, though, with broken glass in the street.’
‘The Queen has some loyal supporters,’ I said.
‘It would appear so,’ Aunt Maude observed, ‘though a mob’s good opinion can be fickle.’
‘I doubt the so-called evidence against her from the Milan Commission will hold up in court.’
‘Don’t tell your father,’ Aunt Maude whispered, ‘but I put my candle in the window last night.’
I laughed. ‘So did I!’
Aunt Maude smiled. ‘A small victory for Womankind.’
‘Father mentioned yesterday that the Queen is staying in Portman Street with Lady Hamilton,’ I said. ‘I’d like to call upon her. Her household was very informal in Pesaro but it could be very different here. She may not rece
ive me.’
‘I trust she will be pleased with the service you rendered to her in advising her mantua- maker.’
‘I need to buy ribbons in Bond Street but, afterwards, will you accompany me to Portman Street?’ I bit my lip. ‘Of course, I haven’t asked Father if I may go.’
‘While I am not generally in favour of deceit,’ said Aunt Maude, ‘since Frederick hasn’t expressly forbidden you to visit the Queen, I shall make no objection to your plan.’ Her blue eyes twinkled. ‘In fact, I shall be most interested to see this unusual lady.’
Later that morning, after I had purchased blue silk ribbons in Bond Street, we directed the coachman to drive us to 22 Portman Street. I placed one of my calling cards on a silver salver and a footman in scarlet livery bore it away. Aunt Maude and I waited on the hall chairs.
A short while later the footman returned and asked us to follow him upstairs to the drawing room where the Queen and her ladies sat. Queen Caroline wore a dress made from material I had selected for her. She had lost a great deal of weight and I supposed this was caused by her recent illness.
I curtseyed deeply to the Queen, Lady Hamilton and Countess Oldi, and helped Aunt Maude to lower herself as far as her poor old knees would allow.
‘Pray be seated,’ said the Queen. ‘How kind of you both to welcome me! So, my Miss Barton is now Miss Langdon?’
‘That is so, Your Majesty,’ I said. ‘I’m pleased to say I have found my father.’
‘Is he what you expected?’
‘I had no expectations at all, Ma’am,’ I said, ‘only hopes, so I’m happy he has welcomed me back into the bosom of my family.’ I smiled at Aunt Maude. ‘Miss Weston is my great- aunt,’ I explained.
‘How fortunate for you, Miss Weston, to have your great-niece returned to you.’
‘I count myself truly blessed, Your Majesty,’ replied Aunt Maude. ‘It was a terrible thing when Emilia was taken from us as a child. I never expected to see her again.’
‘I was sorry to hear that you had been indisposed, Ma’am,’ I told the Queen, ‘and were unable to travel when you had intended.’
She shook her head and sighed. ‘So many delays.’
‘I was pleased to read in the newspaper that your arrival was a triumph and that a crowd had gathered to welcome you.’
‘It was a great relief to me.’ Her blue eyes sparkled. ‘We stayed at Canterbury where the cheering of the people kept me awake. It was so all the way to London, with people waving as we went. Men unhitched the horses from my carriage and pulled it themselves!’
‘Eventually we requested them to desist,’ said Lady Hamilton, ‘since otherwise we should not have reached London before nightfall.’
‘The rain stopped and the sun shone when we reached Deptford,’ the Queen took up the story, clasping her hands to her bosom at the memory. ‘We folded back the roof of the carriage so the crowd could see me. They shouted and cheered and said the sunshine was a good omen.’
Smiling, I said, ‘I’m sure that it will be.’
‘There was a great gathering at Blackheath,’ said Lady Hamilton. ‘You would have thought it was a midsummer fair. At Shooter’s Hill we could barely pass for the barouches and chaises filled with respectable people come to welcome Her Majesty. And then we progressed to Alderman Wood’s house in South Audley Street with all those carriages in procession behind us.’
‘I stood on his balcony so my subjects could see me,’ said the Queen. ‘I waved my handkerchief at the crowds and the cheers were deafening.’ She sighed. ‘It was wonderful. The King has fled now to Windsor, fearful the people will turn against him. Brougham and Thomas Denman, my Solicitor-General, will meet soon to discuss our strategy.’
There seemed nothing to add to this. Besides, I hoped to turn the conversation so as to ask about Alessandro. ‘Was little Victorine well when you saw her last?’ I enquired.
‘She didn’t want me to leave,’ said the Queen. ‘The Baron had to pull her, weeping, from my arms. It nearly broke my heart. She was sad, too, because her Signor Fiorelli had also left my household.’
‘Signor Fiorelli has gone?’ I was shocked, knowing how fond he was of Victorine.
The Queen shrugged. ‘He is no longer in my employ and I hold you responsible for that, Miss Langdon.’
‘Me? But why?’
‘When you left my household he suffered. He was miserable and I missed his merry laughter. Why didn’t you return to make him a happy man?’ The Queen shook her head. ‘Anyone could see that you loved each other.’
‘I will return to Pesaro,’ I said, ‘but I wish to spend time with my rediscovered family first.’
‘Are you enjoying your time here in London?’ asked Lady Hamilton.
I hesitated. ‘I promised my father I would do a season before returning to Italy. He wishes me to enjoy any opportunities that may present themselves.’
‘And meanwhile you will wear pretty clothes and enjoy all the balls and parties?’ said the Queen.
‘Yes.’ I must have sounded doubtful about that because she smiled.
‘I do believe you are finding them tiresome already.’
‘I am a little tired of dress-fittings and endless polite conversation with the same people. I miss the freedom I had in Pesaro. Can you imagine what my father might say if I told him I’d been sea-bathing, for instance?’
Lady Hamilton and Aunt Maude looked shocked, while the Queen threw back her head and laughed. ‘It is the same for me. I know that as soon as I begin to enjoy myself someone will disapprove and it will probably be written about in the newspapers,’ she said. ‘Lady Hamilton tells me every day that I must take particular care to restrain myself.’
‘Impropriety always comes home to roost in the end,’ said Her Ladyship, in a forbidding tone.
‘Indeed it does,’ said Aunt Maude, looking at me. ‘Society can be very unforgiving.’
Lady Hamilton rang the little bell on the table beside her.
‘I have enjoyed seeing you again, Miss Langdon,’ the Queen told me. ‘Call again, won’t you? And I haven’t thanked you for visiting Mrs Webbe to choose dress materials for me. You have helped to make me look suitably respectable.’ She gave me a conspiratorial smile and there was a mischievous glint in her eyes when she continued, ‘Even though I might have preferred at least one gown with a low-cut bodice made out of transparent silver gauze.’ She turned cordially to Aunt Maude. ‘Goodbye, Miss Weston.’
The footman held the door open, waiting for our departure.
Aunt Maude and I both curtseyed and our audience was over.
We ascended the steps to the carriage in silence while I wondered where in Pesaro Alessandro was working now.
‘Well!’ said Aunt Maude as the wheels began to move. ‘The Queen wasn’t at all as I expected.’
‘What did you expect?’ I said.
‘She was far more dignified than I could possibly have imagined from all the scandalous tales I’ve heard about her. And she has a knack of putting everyone she speaks to at ease. I can perfectly well see why the people like her. No wonder the King doesn’t want her to return!’
‘How do you mean?’
‘She forms such a marked contrast with a monarch whose spendthrift and immoral ways have made him justifiably unpopular,’ my great-aunt commented. ‘I can well imagine why the populace would wish her to take her rightful position as Queen. I suspect Whigs like Alderman Wood and their allies, the Radicals, will do their utmost to use her popularity as a means of bringing down the Tory government.’
‘Why, Aunt Maude,’ I said, ‘I had no idea you knew so much about politics!’
‘I may be an old lady no one much notices,’ she replied in astringent tones, ‘but that doesn’t mean to say I don’t see what is going on.’
‘No,’ I said, ‘of course not, Aunt Maude.’
A few days later we were returning to Grosvenor Street after meeting Araminta and her brother for an ice at Gunter’s. As our carriage rolled up outside
, the front door was flung open. The footman pushed a smartly dressed young man out of the hall and onto the front steps.
‘Oh, dear!’ said Aunt Maude, looking out of the window as she gathered up her reticule and stick, ready to descend. ‘An unwelcome caller.’
Protesting volubly, the young man shrugged his shoulders with palms turned upwards in an unmistakably Italian gesture. He gesticulated in the air and my heart nearly leaped out of my chest as I realised who it was. A burst of joy made me laugh aloud. Alessandro had come to England to find me! He must have realised at last how desperately important it had been for me to find my family and come to apologise.
The Dressmaker’s Secret Page 22
