When she had gone, the house seemed to fall abruptly quiet.
Caroline remained where she was, seated by the window that overlooked the heath, watching the slow movement of clouds across the pale sky. The sense of loss surprised her in its immediacy. She had grown used to the sound of Elizabeth’s laughter, to Rebecca’s presence in the rooms beside her own. Their absence, even before it had fully occurred, pressed upon her with an ache she could not easily dismiss.
She was alone again.
Or so it seemed—until a sudden, unmistakable movement stirred within her. A sharp little flutter, more insistent than before, as though the child sensed her melancholy and answered it. Caroline gasped softly and placed a hand upon her stomach, the familiar curve beneath her palm offering comfort she had not known she sought.
“No,” she murmured. “I am not friendless.”
The child moved again, steady and sure, and Caroline smiled through the sudden sting of tears. Whatever solitude awaited her, she would not face it as she once had. She had known companionship, and she would know it again. She had a friend who would write, a child who would return, and another who was already hers—present, alive, and undeniably real.
That knowledge sustained her as the sounds of packing began upstairs, and as Blackheath prepared, once more, to release those it had briefly sheltered.
With some months or so left until the birth of the royal heir, Caroline fully expected to be ignored by the prince. It was much to her surprise when she received a missive from her husband, demanding she prepare to give birth at Carlton House.
Carlton House
Madam,
I am directed by considerations of propriety and public necessity to require your immediate return to Carlton House, there to remain in residence in anticipation of your confinement. It is judged proper that you be established here before the approaching Christmas, and that you continue at Carlton House until such time as the birth has safely occurred and all customary formalities have been observed.
The arrangements requisite to your condition shall be made upon your arrival, and you are expected to conduct yourself in a manner suitable to the dignity of your station and the importance of the occasion. Attendance by the appropriate physicians and officers will be ensured, and every necessary provision for decorum and order will be observed.
You will understand that this requirement admits no delay. I trust that you will govern yourselfaccordingly and give instructions for your removal without further correspondence on the subject.
G., Prince of Wales
She had little more than six weeks until she would be required to return to her husband’s household. The knowledge sat like a weight upon her chest, pressing harder each day as the calendar advanced. It sickened her and she had no desire to be in his presence. Their marriage could not be called happy, short as it had been, and she did not anticipate a change in that regard. Hope, once extinguished, did not readily rekindle. With a heavy sigh, she rang the bell for Mrs. Harding and proceeded to dispense instructions.
Mrs. Harding listened attentively as Caroline spoke—quiet directives concerning trunks, gowns to be altered, accounts to be settled, and the careful packing of personal items she wished to keep close. The housekeeper offered no commentary, only nodding when required, though her expression betrayed a sympathy she did not voice. Blackheath had become, in its way, a refuge; dismantling it felt like surrender.
Much to Caroline’s displeasure, Rebecca’s husband kept her occupied in the weeks preceding the removal to Carlton House. Invitations were issued, expectations asserted, and Rebecca—dutiful as ever—found herself constrained by obligations that permitted little freedom. They maintained a correspondence, but were not at liberty to call upon each other, and Caroline felt the loss keenly. Rebecca included drawings from Elizabeth in her missives—crayon depictions of gardens, figures with crowns, and one unmistakable likeness of Caroline rendered with extravagant curls—which made Caroline smile even on her mosttrying days. She looked on the child as one might a treasured, favorite niece, and looked forward to being in her presence again with an ache that surprised her in its intensity.
I have known her such a short time,Caroline reflected,and yet she has made herself indispensable.
The journey back to Carlton House was undertaken with grim efficiency. The house loomed as it had before—grand, impersonal, and faintly hostile. Upon her arrival, she was shown without ceremony into a withdrawing room to await her husband. The familiar scent of polish and perfume did nothing to soften her dread.
Prince George entered at last, his expression registering annoyance before surprise, then settling into cool appraisal. His gaze dropped immediately to her figure, lingering with open dissatisfaction.
“So,” he said at length, “my mother was not mistaken.”
Caroline stiffened. “I trust you refer to my condition, sir.”
He gave a short laugh. “It is difficult to miss. You wear it…liberally.” His eyes flicked again to her waist. “You have altered considerably.”
Her cheeks burned, but her voice remained steady. “I carry your child.”
He shrugged. “And the kingdom’s heir, if we are fortunate.” Then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, “You will remain in your apartments until after the birth. I see no reason for you to be paraded about in this state.” He gestured vaguely. “Until you are returned to yourself.”
Caroline met his gaze, her own sharpening. “I am not an embarrassment to be hidden away.”
“You are an inconvenience,” he corrected coolly. “One that will be resolved in due course.”
Before she could reply, he turned. “See that she is settled,” he said to a servant.
She was shown to her chambers—spacious, well-appointed, and utterly isolating. The door closed behind her with a finality that echoed unpleasantly. Caroline sank into a chair, one hand resting instinctively upon her stomach as a familiar pressure stirred beneath her palm.
He has no intention of treating me as anything but a vessel,she thought.Very well. I shall endure.
