Frederick kissed his mother’s hand charmingly—always so charming in public. In private he would be sullen, always ready to talk of his debts, wondering why he could not have more money.

She complimented him on his healthy looks and after a short conversation he left her to wander among the guests and say a few words to each.

She watched him and saw that he had joined Anne Vane, one of her attendants, and that he stayed at her side. She knew the girl was his mistress. That was of no great Importance, except of course that the girl had not the best of reputations. She would have preferred him to have chosen a mistress as discreet and as modest as Henrietta.

She noticed that her daughter Caroline had suddenly become animated, almost pretty, a faint flush in her cheeks, her eyes brightening.

The reason was clear. Lord Hervey was presenting himself to the Queen.

Caroline’s own spirits lifted. Lord Hervey was always so amusing. She enjoyed his company more than anyone else’s —more than Walpole’s although, of course, she and the great statesman had so much of importance to discuss together.

‘My lord, it is a pleasure....’

‘Your Majesty is gracious.’

He was very handsome and most magnificently dressed. His cheeks were only faintly touched with rouge. Poor man, thought the Queen, he suffers and must disguise his pallor for he doesn’t want everyone asking after his health.

She shuddered at the thought of such a distasteful subject.

‘Pray be seated beside me,’ she said. ‘Now amuse me with the latest gossip.’

Hervey did this so effectively that now and then the Queen’s laughter rang out. The Princess Caroline came to sit on the other side of Hervey and joined in the merriment, although not in the conversation, preferring to sit quietly listening.

‘Lord Hervey,’ chided the Queen, ‘I fear you have a wicked tongue.’

‘Alas so much more entertaining than a discreet one. Is it not sad that the discreet and the virtuous are invariably bores?’

‘One could never call you that, Lord Hervey.’

‘I have always thought that I would be wicked while I was young giving myself time in which to repent and spend my last years ... no, months ... in being virtuous, a plague to myself and a bore to my friends.’

‘I should not listen to such talk.’

‘You see, I even tempt Your Majesty to forget your habitual virtue.’

‘Are you suggesting that I am a bore since I am virtuous?’

‘It is the privilege of royalty, Madam, never to bore.’

‘What do you think of this man, Caroline?’ the Queen asked her daughter. ‘Do you not think that we should dismiss him from the Court?’

The Princess Caroline blushed and murmured that the Court would be a dull place if Lord Hervey were banished from it.

‘There’s a nice piece of flattery for you,’ laughed the Queen.

Hervey looked intently at the Princess and said: ‘I hope with all my heart that it is not flattery.’

The Princess looked uncomfortable and turned her gaze on the company. Hervey was completely assured. Why was he fretting about lost favour with the Prince when he had the undisguised approval of the Princess and—what was more important—the Queen.

But this very approval made him more angry with the Prince who had treated him so churlishly as to thrust him aside for the sake of that vulgar Bubb. And Anne Vane too! How dared they!

They were whispering together now. Could it be about him? He had made a discovery about Anne Vane. He had his friends about the Court and her secret was one which she could not expect to hide for long.

Anne Vane was pregnant.

What an interesting situation. It was just possible that he himself might be the father. Harrington might be too, but of course the young woman would almost certainly bestow paternity on the Prince of Wales.

It would discountenance Mistress Vane considerably if she were dismissed from Court because of her condition.

Hervey could never resist maliciously attacking his enemies and with a sudden feeling of spite he leaned closer to the Queen and whispered: ‘I’ll swear Your Majesty is disturbed about the condition of that young woman.’

‘What young woman is this?’

‘Anne Vane. She is enceinte.’

‘Enceinte!’ Caroline began to fan herself rapidly. ‘How inconsiderate of her! ‘

‘Very inconsiderate, Your Majesty. Well brought up young ladies should know it is an unpardonable offence. To err is natural, but to make public that which should be private is such vulgarity. Still, I am not surprised considering the company the young woman keeps.’

The Queen looked astonished for even from Hervey she would not take insults to the Prince of Wales.

‘I mean that mountain of flesh, that vulgar tradesman, that adorner of his vile and unwieldly person ... Bubb Dodington. Any man who gets himself born with such a name has no right to enter polite society.’

The Queen looked relieved. ‘I believe Mr Bubb Dodington to be a Member of Parliament and a respected citizen.’

‘He is respected by sellers of brocade, jewels, and building materials, Madam. They wrest a good living from his extravagances. Miss Vane is a close friend of his ... and I repeat that it is small wonder that she has behaved in this indecorous vulgar way.’

‘You think Mr Dodington is the father?’

‘I think, Madam, that there are a number who could claim that not very creditable role, but I do not think that gentleman’s mistress would allow him the opportunities which would be necessary if he were to share Miss Vane’s ubiquitous favours.’

The Queen smiled, but she was almost immediately serious.

‘I want no scandal at the Court.’

‘Then in that case Your Majesty will want no Miss Vane.’

‘You are right, Lord Hervey. I shall consider her case immediately.’

Caroline meant what she said. Frederick was mistaken if he thought she was going to have his mistress growing obviously more and more pregnant in evidence at her Court.

She considered very carefully how she would rid herself of Anne Vane.

She was at Kensington which was her favourite palace because it seemed to her more homely than St James’s or Hampton Court.

In her rooms on the first floor on the eastern side of the palace she lay in bed and thought that she would lose no time. She would act this very day.

She often thought this was one of the most enjoyable times of the day. She would lie in bed and rest her limbs—and she always felt better when she was lying down—and very often she would give audience from her bed. If her visitor were a man he would stand outside the door and talk to her from there, for she was determined that no scandal should touch her name. That would be immediately to alienate the King for the one thing that would be unforgivable to him would be to besmirch his supremacy in any way.

Then there would be the ceremony of dressing which took place all too soon, presided over by Charlotte Clayton who on some mornings seemed to give herself such airs of authority that the others resented it, particularly Henrietta Howard who, the Queen often noticed with relief, now made no objections about kneeling with the basin and ewer.

When she was dressed she stood at one of the six great windows looking down on the gardens. Such a pleasant sight and how she loved those gardens She delighted to walk in them; she was sorry she could not walk more often, but her legs did swell so much and there was that other unmentionable trouble. Whenever she thought of it she would give Charlotte a quick look. Sometimes Charlotte intercepted that look and an expression of reassurance would come over her face. Or did the Queen imagine that? Your secret is safe with me.

The children were waiting to join her at breakfast in Queen Mary’s gallery.