Peace of Amiens - 18. Chapter 18

October 31, 1801

Portland Place

London, England

 

 

Granger had just finished his breakfast and was about to begin replying to the voluminous amount of correspondence he’d received when Cheevers strode into the library. “A messenger has just delivered a letter, my lord,” he said, as he handed Granger the envelope.

“Thank you, Cheevers,” Granger said politely. He recognized Calvert’s writing immediately, and that prompted him to open the letter with indecent haste. Calvert and Amelia had returned from Cowes last week, spent a few days in the Queen’s House, then they had gone on to Windsor. Evidently once the King had completed his ceremonial duties, he was more than happy to escape from his capital. The note was brief and to the point.

Dear George,

I have a dilemma and desperately need your guidance. Would you be willing to travel to Windsor to meet with me?

Calvert

Granger wondered what this latest problem was and began to imagine all sorts of things, then sighed since he was alone. He was surprised that Calvert had summoned him to Windsor instead of traveling to London to talk to Granger. Regardless, Calvert would not have asked to meet with him like this if it weren’t important. He rang the bell and a footman responded promptly. “My lord?”

“Pass the word for Winkler,” Granger ordered. The man acknowledged the directive and vanished, only to be replaced by Winkler in short order.

“My lord?” Winkler asked.

“I must go to Windsor, and I need to leave as soon as possible,” he said. “Plan for us to be gone for three days.”

“I will get everything ready, my lord,” Winkler responded. He exited the library and set in motion the flurry of activity that would be required for Granger to move temporarily to Windsor. Granger was oblivious to that hubbub. Instead, he pondered Calvert’s letter for a few minutes, then got up and went to look for Daventry. He found him in his anteroom upstairs.

“Good morning, George,” Daventry said politely.

“I am not sure that it is,” Granger said. “I have been asked to go to Windsor.”

“By whom?” Daventry asked.

“Calvert,” Granger responded.

“I would think it more appropriate that he come to you,” Daventry said, referring to their differences in status. In Daventry’s mind, it was inappropriate for Calvert to issue such a summons to a peer of the realm.

“He would not have done that if there were not a sound reason for me to go there,” Granger said confidently. “I am not sure if there are any issues of great import in the Lords, but I am hoping you will exercise my proxy if there are.”

“Of course,” he said. “Both Hawkesbury and Addington praised your speech about the treaty.” He’d delivered that speech yesterday after Parliament was opened and the debate on the treaty commenced.

“I am glad that I did an adequate job, even though it pained me to argue against Spencer,” Granger said sadly. He considered Spencer a friend and perhaps a mentor, but Spencer had joined those who opposed the Treaty of Amiens. Spencer had given a very lackluster speech, then Granger had delivered a rebuttal and all but ripped his arguments to shreds.

“Spencer is a skilled politician,” Daventry said. “It was obvious that his heart was not behind his words, and in any event, he would not dream of holding your remarks against you, especially since you were so incredibly polite.”

“I hope that is the case,” Granger said. They spent some time gossiping about various politicians, then Granger took his leave. “If I am needed, please let me know.”

“I cannot imagine why you would be needed,” Daventry teased.

Granger rolled his eyes, then left Daventry and went to Carmella’s room. He was pleased to find her alone. “I must travel to Windsor. I will probably be gone for three days.”

“I would go with you but I am quite busy getting ready for our opening performance,” she said.

“You are always welcome to join me, but there is no need in this case,” he said, and gave her a loving kiss. “I just wanted you to know that I would be gone.”

“I would say that I will miss you, but I have been so busy I don’t think I am aware of anyone around me,” she said.

“Perhaps you would be willing to give me a spectacular send-off?” he asked in a suggestive way.

“I would be most happy to accommodate your lordship,” she said coquettishly. They spent the next fifteen minutes enjoying a most satisfying sexual encounter, then worked to repair their appearances. Granger descended back to the main level and went outside to find the carriage waiting for him. He glanced at his watch and was impressed that his efficient staff had managed to pack up their things in just a little more than an hour. Winkler, Jacobs, and LeFavre were seated inside with him since it was raining.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Granger said cheerfully. “We are off on a brief sojourn to Windsor.” Appropriately enough, the carriage began to move as soon as Granger had uttered those words.

“My lord, I hope you will beg my pardon for asking, but why are you going to Windsor?” Winkler asked. He was the only one who was bold enough to question Granger.

“I received a message from Sir Francis Calvert asking me to meet with him,” Granger said.

“Hopefully it is not bad news, my lord,” Jacobs said.

“Hopefully,” Granger agreed. He was very introspective on the ride out to Windsor, and the others were respectful of his mood and stayed quiet. He pondered his life as it was and could not help smiling. He did not have a command, but with the advent of peace, that did not bother him. Caroline had once told him that he was a true warrior, and that he would not be happy at home until the wars were over. He had to admit grudgingly that she was right. His speech in the Lords over the treaty had been lauded for being concise and to the point. At first, Granger was concerned that those comments were just veiled insults, because flowery sermons were usually the most appreciated of Parliamentary addresses. He discovered, on the contrary, that his fellow peers had grown tired of endless rambling and had begun to value a more direct approach.

His smile got broader as he thought about how happy he had been in London. Carmella was a wonderful companion, one who had become much more than just a mistress. She was his friend, and he found himself relying on her for more than just his carnal needs. In addition to sleeping with her, he had also been quite busy with the men in his life. Calvert had spent a few days in London and that had satisfied him beyond belief. He’d also manage to squeeze in a few liaisons with Castlereagh. All was well, which was perhaps why Granger found this note from Calvert so concerning.

He and Daventry were due to leave for France on November 9. Daventry had managed to extract a cabinet position without portfolio as the price for his service, while Granger had gotten a promise that the minute war broke out again, he would be posted to Endymion. In addition, the King had seen fit to allow the Barony of Penistone to pass to Alexander after Caroline’s death, which largely made up for his losing the Heathford title. That barony was a title Caroline had inherited, as it was allowed to pass through the female line. Caroline had been ecstatic about that, and it had helped to heal the divide between them. The rift was still there, but it was not as big.

The French emissary to Britain, General Lauriston, had arrived in England on October 16^th and the mob had gone crazy with euphoria, so excited were they about peace. They had taken the leads of his carriage, replacing the horses, and pulled it themselves through London, then patrolled the streets to make sure that all the houses were illuminated to show support for the treaty. Lord Grenville, whose stubbornness had made it impossible for Pitt’s administration to finalize a treaty, had found that his similar intransigence about lighting up his house resulted in all his windows being broken. Granger had left strict instructions to Cheevers to see that his house was illuminated whenever the mob demanded. It was a small price to pay to avoid rocks in his library.

Granger had spent time with Lauriston and found him to be good company, something he had not necessarily expected. The General had given him some good information on the current state of France, and more importantly, on the political players who were influential. Granger had been cautious, because the General had been almost too solicitous, but ultimately decided that the man wanted the peace to be concluded and was trying to help things along. He suspected that Talleyrand had made a point to have Lauriston feed him this information, and was looking forward to getting more detailed descriptions from that wily diplomat. Granger let these thoughts occupy him during the long trek to Windsor and was almost surprised when they arrived in the afternoon.

They settled comfortably into the Middle Tower, with Winkler going off to freshen up Granger’s wardrobe. “My lord, if you will give me an hour, we will unpack the foodstuffs we have brought and I will prepare dinner for you,” LeFavre said.

“I would be most obliged,” Granger said to his chef. He jotted a quick note and dispatched a messenger to track down Calvert and deliver it. A quarter of an hour later, Jacobs arrived to tell him that Calvert and Amelia were both there to see him. He walked into the main room and bowed to Amelia. He smiled at both of them, an expression they did not return. They looked as if some disaster had befallen them.

“It is good to see Your Royal Highness,” Granger said to Amelia, and kissed her hand.

“I appreciate your lordship’s traveling from London to meet with us,” she said nervously.

“Thank you for coming, George,” Calvert said, and embraced him warmly.

“Your note was both urgent and cryptic, and certainly piqued my curiosity,” Granger said pleasantly.

“I am with child,” Amelia said, then began to cry. Granger stared first at her, then at Calvert, and so stunned was he that he forgot his normally impeccable manners.

“Won’t you both have a seat?” he asked after he’d finally pulled himself together, and gestured at the furniture. “A drink?”

“That would be most welcome,” Amelia said.

“Who knows of this?” Granger asked.

“You and the Queen,” Calvert said. Granger’s eyes bulged at that. He imagined that the Queen would be furious and was stunned that they had told her about Amelia’s condition. He opted to ask about that.

“I am surprised you revealed that to Her Majesty,” he said, but it was more of a question than an observation.

“I had little choice,” Amelia said. “The doctors tell her everything, so I had the option of telling her before they got to her or risking her wrath when she found out on her own.”

“A damnable choice either way,” Calvert said.

“I take it that Her Majesty was not happy?” Granger asked.

“That is an understatement,” Amelia said nervously. “She gave me a scalding lecture on how this would damage my father if he learned of it.”

“I am surprised that she has not banished you,” Granger said to Calvert.

“I had expected that would be the case, but she does not seem to object to our relationship as long as it remains hidden,” Calvert said. He was clearly as perplexed about that as Granger.

“Her biggest concern is making sure that father does not find out,” Amelia said. “She pretends that we are not together, and that makes it less likely the King will detect anything. If she banished Francis, she would have to explain it to His Majesty.”

“I can see where that would be a prudent course of action then, and it has the added benefit of allowing you two to remain together,” Granger noted.

“I had originally struck a deal with her, but I am worried that it will be destroyed by this,” Amelia said, and became despondent.

“I hope you will pardon me for prying,” Granger said gently, “but what was your arrangement with Her Majesty?”

“I told her that I wanted to marry Francis and she forbade it. I threatened to elope, and told her that we would move to the Continent,” Amelia stated.

“That was quite bold of you,” Granger replied with a slightly playful tone. He actually got a small smile from her in return.

“In the end, we worked out an agreement,” Amelia said. “I promised that we would not be wed while His Majesty was alive and well, and in exchange she would continue to ignore our relationship and would not oppose our marriage when my father was sadly no longer around to condemn it.”

“I am surprised by that,” Granger said, and got a frown from both of them. “I cannot see Her Majesty ultimately sanctioning your marriage.” It was inconceivable that the Queen would allow Amelia to marry someone like Calvert, who was so far below her in the social hierarchy.

“I tend to agree with you,” Calvert said. “I was merely happy that she consented to our remaining together.”

“She pledged her word,” Amelia objected.

“And when she is backed into a corner and asked to sanction your marriage, I suspect that she will find a different reason to renege on her pledge,” Granger said. Amelia stared at him first in disbelief, then in sadness and resignation when she realized Granger was right.

“She is not immortal,” Amelia announced. “When the Prince of Wales becomes King and she is dead, he will allow it.”

“Let us hope,” Granger said, getting another frown from Amelia. He ignored her, because he knew that Prinny would talk a big game about it now, but when it came to actually risking a conflict, he would leave Amelia spinning in the wind.

“In the meantime, I am with child, and I do not know what to do,” she cried.

“My understanding is that there are ways to end a pregnancy,” Granger said gently.

“I will not kill my own baby!” Amelia almost shouted, so outraged was she.

“Then what is your desired outcome?” Granger asked. Before she could answer, Jacobs interrupted them.

“My lord, we are prepared to serve dinner,” Jacobs said.

“I hope the two of you will join me?” Granger asked.

“We would be honored,” Calvert said. They went into the dining room, took their seats, then began to feast on LeFavre’s creations.

“This food is wonderful,” Amelia said.

“I will let my chef know,” Granger said. “He will be honored to be complimented by someone as esteemed as Your Royal Highness.”

“I would think my father’s accolades would be more valuable, and he has already given them to Monsieur LeFavre many times,” Amelia said, smiling.

“Ah, but my chef is a Frenchman, so to him, the praise of a woman is much more valuable,” Granger joked. Calvert and Amelia chuckled briefly, then got somber as they remembered their predicament. “Based on what is possible, what would make you happy for your child?”

“I want to raise him or her,” Amelia asserted.

“You must realize that is impossible,” Granger said. He suddenly became aware that part of his role here was to be the realist. Calvert would probably find it difficult and painful to have such a conversation with Amelia, so he was leaving it to Granger to be the foil. Granger’s devotion to Calvert was so complete that he did not mind shouldering that burden. “The only reason Her Majesty is treating this so benignly is because it is being hidden from your father. If you are raising a child, that would certainly expose the situation.”

“Perhaps I could adopt the child, and explain it that way,” Amelia said hopefully.

“It will be almost impossible to hide that you are pregnant,” Granger said. “If you are suddenly much slimmer and have an adopted infant, the child’s origins will easily be discernible to society.”

“Still…” Amelia persisted.

“If we are to find a solution, we must be realistic,” Granger said firmly.

“I would like to see my child established with a good position in society, and I would like the ability to spend time with him or her,” Calvert said thoughtfully.

“Would that be acceptable to you?” Granger asked Amelia.

“Would we have any rights to see the child or care for it?” Amelia asked.

“You would not,” Granger answered. “You would only be allowed to do so at the discretion of the child’s parents or guardians.”

“I would think that we could make some sort of private agreement…” Amelia began.

“You cannot,” Granger said, cutting her off. “If you had any type of parental influence over the child, it would be easy to follow the trail and guess that it was yours.”

They continued to eat their dinner in silence, the tension remaining stable as Amelia contemplated her options. While she was laboring over them, Granger’s mind was working as fast as lightning, for he had conjured up a plan and was focused on fleshing it out. As they were finishing dinner, she finally spoke up. “I would be content to have an arrangement as Francis outlined.”

“Then I have a potential solution to this problem,” Granger said. It was flattering to see the hope that was apparent in the expressions of both Calvert and Amelia.

“Indeed?” Amelia asked.

“Let us repair to the sitting room and I will explain it,” Granger said.

“With pleasure,” Calvert answered, and allowed Granger to guide them into that more relaxed room.

“I would be willing to claim your child as my own,” Granger said. Calvert gave him an incredibly loving look which was quite heartwarming.

“If you did that, then the child would be a bastard, and would not occupy a good place in society,” Amelia observed.

“Then the child must not be a bastard,” Granger said mysteriously.

“George, how is that possible?” Calvert asked. “The only way for that to happen is for Caroline to give birth to a child.”

“Precisely,” Granger said. “It must appear that Caroline and I are the parents of your baby.”

“As you two are estranged, and Caroline is rumored to be barren, that would seem to be a problematic strategy,” Calvert said.

“Caroline seems to have shed much of her animosity for me after I arranged to have the Barony of Penistone conferred upon Alexander. And if she were with child, that would certainly dispel any rumors that she was unable to get pregnant,” Granger said. “With the proper inducements, she may be persuaded to help you out.”

“I wonder what she will want in exchange?” Calvert asked nervously.

“I will find out,” Granger said.

There was a commotion in the main room, followed by Jacobs’ appearance in the sitting area. “My lord, Her Majesty is here,” Jacobs announced.

Granger rose up immediately and went to greet the Queen. “What an honor and a pleasure to see Your Majesty,” he said, bowing to her.

“We are glad you are here at Windsor, Lord Brentwood,” the Queen said. “I was told you had arrived, and that Amelia and Sir Francis had called on you.”

“We have just finished dinner and were relaxing in the other room, ma’am,” Granger said. “Would you care to join us?”

“With pleasure,” the Queen said. Granger guided her into the sitting room, gave her the most ornate chair in the room, waited until the footmen had poured them each a glass of port, then dismissed the servants.

“Lord Brentwood has a plan for our dilemma, Mother,” Amelia said.

“It enrages me to even be discussing this matter,” the Queen said angrily.

“I thought we had reached an understanding and part of that pact was that you would forgive us and bury your rage,” Amelia said pointedly. The Queen gave her an annoyed look.

“We will hear of your plan, Lord Brentwood,” she commanded.

“Your Majesty, I have told both Sir Francis and Her Royal Highness that I am willing to acknowledge the child as my own,” Granger said. The Queen raised the same issue Amelia had, and Granger acknowledged that it must look like Caroline was the mother, and that meant her cooperation was indispensable.

“Then how will you convince Society that the child is yours?” the Queen asked.

“Your Majesty, I am going to France on November 9. I am of a mind to take Caroline with me, if she is willing,” Granger said. He imagined that the thought of traveling to Paris before peace was formalized would be very attractive to Caroline, and that was part of his rationale for taking her. “Four months from now, we will allow it to be known generally that Caroline is with child.”

“She will not look pregnant,” Amelia objected.

“She can be made to look as if she is pregnant,” Granger corrected.

“She could indeed,” the Queen said, smiling in her scheming way. “That begs the next issue, which is that Amelia will be showing as well.”

“I envisioned that as Her Royal Highness’s pregnancy advances to that point, Your Majesty, it could be announced that she was ailing, and she could be sent to my home in Cowes to recover,” Granger said.

“I can see that as a possibility,” the Queen acknowledged.

“Caroline will also be there,” Granger said. “When Amelia gives birth, Caroline will shed her pregnancy disguise, and everyone will acknowledge the child as mine.”

The Queen stood up, causing them all to stand as well. They watched as she paced back and forth in the room for a bit, then she returned to her chair and they all sat back down with her. “I think that is a wonderfully ingenious plan, Lord Brentwood.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said, and her words made him so happy he could not help smiling broadly. “I think that to finalize the arrangements I must ascertain whether Caroline will help.”

“That worries me, since she is certainly not fond of me,” Calvert noted.

“One has to credit her good judgment on that,” Granger teased, getting a chuckle from the two royal ladies.

The Queen stood, and the others did as well. “Thank you,” she said to Granger. “We will take our leave of you, and will look forward to hearing more as your plan advances.”

“With your permission, I would like it if Sir Francis could remain and help me work out the details,” Granger said. Amelia gave him a slight frown, then remembered their deal.

“I will see you later, Sir Francis,” Amelia said to him.

Calvert bowed to acknowledge her words, then the ladies left and Granger was alone with Calvert. “Even though it has not been that long since we have been parted, I have missed you terribly,” Calvert said.

“I was hoping that your note was sent based on your carnal needs,” Granger said with a seductive grin. “I am so disappointed that it was a somewhat perplexing dilemma instead.”

“I must correct your lordship,” Calvert responded flirtatiously. “The note was not only of one objective, as both of those goals were part of its purpose.”

“You are merely saying words to me,” Granger said, as he led Calvert into his bedroom. “I require more positive proof of your intent.”

“Then I will gladly provide it,” Calvert said. They spent the rest of the evening making love, then Granger and his retinue returned to London.

 

November 2, 1801

Heathford House

London, England

 

“Please follow me, my lord,” the butler said, then led him into the drawing room. “Lord Brentwood,” he announced.

Granger studied the two women who were there to greet him. His mother-in-law, Lady Heathford, wore a scowl on her face, and was barely willing to rise to welcome him. Granger merely nodded at her, all the respect that she warranted. He focused instead on his estranged wife, who smiled at him nervously. “Thank you for responding to my note and agreeing to receive me,” he said.

“You were lucky that I had space in my schedule for you,” Caroline said, but smiled to show she was mostly teasing him.

“I was indeed,” Granger said, and took her hands in his in what was an affectionate gesture.

“It is quite remarkable that you are willing to show your face here after all that you have done,” Lady Heathford said viciously.

“I have come to call on Lady Brentwood, not Lady Heathford,” he said to her in a dismissive way, then turned to Caroline. “I thought it might be pleasant to go for a drive.”

“It’s too cold for that,” Lady Heathford pronounced.

“That sounds delightful,” Caroline said to him, ignoring her mother. She put her hand on his arm and he escorted her out to his carriage. It was strange in the extreme to be with her in this vehicle that had once been theirs but was now his, but Granger had a mission to accomplish, so he persevered.

“There is a problem, and I am hoping that you will be willing to help me solve it,” Granger said, as the carriage began to move.

“And whom does this problem involve?” she asked suspiciously.

“Before I tell you, I must ask you for your pledge that what will be discussed will remain confidential,” Granger said.

“And my word would provide sufficient bona fides?” she asked bitterly, exposing the frayed feelings that still existed after their separation.

“It will,” Granger said.

She was rightfully flattered by his response. “Then I will pledge to keep our conversation between just the two of us.”

Granger smiled at her to thank her. “Her Royal Highness Princess Amelia is pregnant. She is carrying Francis Calvert’s child.”

“I am not sure that I want to be of assistance to either one of them,” she said petulantly. Amelia had snubbed her a few times at Court, and Caroline was loath to forgive such a slight.

“I do not want you to do something you do not want to do,” Granger said, then remained silent. The carriage pulled into Hyde Park and the driver found a secluded place to park.

“What is it that you want from me?” Caroline asked.

“The pregnancy must be hidden from His Majesty, but Amelia and Francis would like to see that their child has a good reputation,” Granger said. “I am of a mind to claim the child as ours.”

“And how exactly would you achieve that?” Caroline asked.

“You would have to pretend you were pregnant, then when Amelia’s time approaches, you would have to be in Cowes with her so when the baby arrives it appears as if you had given birth to it,” Granger said.

“That is most difficult, since you and I are known to be separated, and thus it is unlikely that we would consummate what was no longer our marriage,” she said angrily.

“I have to leave for Paris on November 9, and I will be there for a month,” Granger said. “I was hoping you would accompany me. That would provide a reason for your conception, and also allow you to visit the French capital some time before other ladies were able to do so.”

“And is that to be my only reward for going along with this scheme of yours, George?” she asked.

“That is the only reward I have thought of,” he replied. “I assumed you would have a suggestion on what is appropriate.”

“I will ponder your request, and let you know what I will require to cooperate with your plan,” she said in probably the same way she bargained with politicians.

“Thank you,” he said, then rapped on the roof of the coach, prompting the driver to take them back to Heathford House.