Subconsciously Caroline knew that while she held this supremacy she could rule the King, and while she ruled the King, Walpole must take her into his confidence. But if she lost her physical hold on George, which she would do if he were embarrassed by her affliction, then she would also lose her power to lead him.
It was of the utmost importance that she keep her secret.
She wished that it were entirely her own secret and that Mrs Clayton had not discovered it. Sometimes, by an expression, Mrs Clayton betrayed the fact that she was thinking of it; since she had revealed her knowledge there had been an air of closer intimacy in her manner. She ruled the household under the Queen and even though Caroline did not always approve of her manners, she felt herself unable to protest. It was slight, it was subtle, but it was there. Another woman held the secret which Caroline must at all costs keep from the world.
Henrietta Howard was very much aware of the change in the King since he had come back from Hanover. It was time she left, she knew. She would not be sorry to go and when she looked back over the years since she had become the King’s mistress she realized that they had been singularly unprofitable. The fact was, George was a mean man where others were concerned. He liked to spend money, but on himself. Theirs had been unlike the usual relationship between a King and his mistress. She had no grand titles to show for her years of service, no rich lands which brought in good revenues. All she had had was a place at Court as a bedchamber woman—not even a Lady of the Bedchamber, but a bedchamber woman.
She had served the Queen well too, and in fact it was Caroline who wished her to stay at Court and hold her place in the King’s life. Why? Because she was reliable, because she was insignificant, because if she went the King would think it necessary to replace her by a woman who might lack her quality of amiable placidity.
A sad end to a life of service, thought Henrietta.
She would like to retire and live in peace. She never wanted to go back to her husband; and that of course he would not want either, for he had no interest in her apart from the £1,200 paid to him by the King for his permission to allow her to stay in the Queen’s household.
If she returned to him he would lose that and he much preferred it to her.
Well, he must do what he would about that; Henrietta was tired of servitude. Moreover, she believed that very soon the King would break the habit of visiting her and then her sole duty would be to act as bedchamber woman to the Queen.
She would miss Court life in a way. The little parties she gave in her apartments were always well attended by those people who mistakenly believed that the way to the King’s favour was through his mistress. Lord Townshend had been one of these, and still clung to the belief; Henrietta knew that this was one of the reasons why the Queen disliked him so.
She was in a melancholy mood. The King had been particularly unpleasant; he had snapped at her and called her a fool, and then been annoyed because she had not quite caught what he said, and had asked him to repeat it. It was true he had stayed the appointed time, but he had kept looking at his watch as though he found it hard to believe that time could pass so slowly.
Oh yes, it was certainly time she left Court and found solace elsewhere.
In such a mood she went to assist at the Queen’s dressing. The Queen had, since she came to the throne, been very eager to follow the old traditions of royal behaviour which her father-in-law had abandoned. For him it had been enough to have his two Turkish servants, Mahomet and Mustapha, to dress and undress him; this had caused a great deal of resentment throughout the Court, for it dispensed with so many remunerative posts in the bedchamber. Caroline, however, had reverted to the old customs and her rising and retiring were conducted with traditional ceremony.
As bedchamber woman it was Henrietta’s duty to bring the basin and ewer, kneeling to present them to the Queen. This Henrietta felt too much of an indignity for a woman who had for so many years been the King’s mistress. Who ever heard of a King’s mistress remaining a bedchamber woman all her life!
She brought the basin and ewer for the Queen but did not kneel, and the Queen immediately noticed the omission.
‘My dear Howard,’ said Caroline, ‘what does this mean? You know you should kneel when you present the basin and ewer.’
‘Madam,’ answered Henrietta, the colour leaping to her cheeks, ‘it is something I cannot do.’
Oh dear, thought Caroline, she is suddenly going to give herself airs because of her relationship with the King ... after all these years!
‘Have you pains in your knees?’ asked the Queen. ‘No, Madam. That is not the reason.’
‘So it is not pain but ... dignity.’
‘I will not do it, Madam.’
Caroline sighed. ‘But my dear Howard, I am sure you will. Fie for shame. But go now. Go away and we will talk of this another time.’
The Queen summoned another of the bedchamber women to perform the duty which Henrietta had refused, but she was thinking, the matter must not rest here. Henrietta must either be made to do her duty to the Queen irrespective of her relationship with the King or go. And if she went and another younger, more attractive woman replaced her ...
The Queen shuddered; and Henrietta, in her own apartment wondering what she had done, was less disturbed than the Queen.
Sir Robert Walpole came to the Queen’s closet and Caroline immediately informed him of the incident.
He looked grave, for like Caroline he realized the importance of keeping Henrietta in her position. ‘The King must not form a new and more attractive habit,’ he said.
‘It’s true,’ replied the Queen, ‘but I vill not have insolence from the King’s guenips.’
Walpole laughed. ‘I will speak to Mrs Howard,’ he said. ‘I will tell her that she should enquire of Lady Masham who served Queen Anne for so long and held a position with that Queen far more intimate and affectionate than Mrs Howard holds with the King, yet remained bedchamber woman and I believe observed every rule of etiquette. I am sure Lady Masham will tell Mrs Howard that the kneeling position is a necessary one. Then she will be satisfied and so will you.’
‘That is von goot idea,’ said the Queen.
‘There is another of your ladies who deserves a little attention,’ went on Walpole. ‘I am referring to Mrs Clayton. I think that good lady has too high an opinion of herself.’
The Queen was silent, but her lips tightened and a wary expression came into her eyes. Walpole was conscious of this and was immediately alert.
‘I fancied she was a little insolent to me,’ he went on, ‘as though she almost resented my visits to Your Majesty.’
‘Clayton is a good woman,’ said the Queen rapidly. ‘She has been vith me for a long time. I find her an excellent servant.’
‘Ah, these women, they work well for a while and then it occurs to them that they are indispensable. It seems to me that Mrs Clayton at times almost believes she is Your Majesty.’
The Queen laughed uneasily.
‘I certainly think that she believed herself to be of greater importance than Your Majesty’s ministers.’
‘I vill speak to her,’ the Queen promised.
Sir Robert turned the conversation to his brother-in-law Townshend. ‘It would seem, Madam, that we are surrounded by those who would flout us. Townshend is becoming intolerable.’
‘Then,’ replied the Queen almost blithely, ‘vile ye vork to keep Mrs Howard, ye must plan to rid ourselves of Lord Townshend.’
Walpole plunged into an animated account of his relative’s shortcomings, but all the time he was wondering what had happened between the Queen and Mrs Clayton to make the Queen so uneasy when she was criticized. Had the woman some hold over the Queen? That seemed impossible, but naturally Walpole must make it his business to find out.