Northern Exposure - 71. Chapter 71

June 24, 1801

Portland Place

London, UK

A very annoyed George Granger sat down to break his fast. The dinner party he’d thrown last night had been an unquestionable success, and he had the hangover to prove it, but that was not the cause of his irritation. His eyes settled first on Daventry, who was doing a good job of hiding his own ravages from last night, but he was not the reason Granger was vexed either. His eyes finally settled on Cavendish and narrowed as they did; Cavendish swallowed hard and looked away from his gaze. Granger had always thought he could rely on Cavendish to be in his corner, yet he had not even mentioned the bill to change Alexander’s name. He had to have known about it. “Good morning,” Granger said affably, determined to be a good host.

“So you say,” Daventry grumbled. “You are looking quite spruce today. What plans have you conjured up?”

“I am going to call on His Majesty,” Granger said.

“Do you have an appointment?” Cavendish asked.

“I do not,” Granger responded.

“So you’re just going to stroll up and knock on his door?” Daventry joked.

“That is exactly what I am going to do,” Granger affirmed.

“He is currently staying at the Queen’s House, so that should not be a very long drive at all,” Cavendish said.

“That was the information I received as well,” Granger said to him, probably more coldly than he planned. He turned back to Daventry. “And what are your plans for the day?”

“I am going to call on His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales,” Daventry said, with a combination of reverence and scorn. “I will let him know you sent your regards.”

“It is my hope to be done in time to call on him as well, so perhaps I will see you there,” Granger said.

“Let us hope you do not miss too much fun,” Daventry said. “And what about you, Cavendish?”

“I have some affairs to tend to at the Foreign Office,” he said. They paused to enjoy the food Lefavre had made for them, then Granger broached the issue that was bothering him.

“Did you know anything about the Haversham’s plan to make Alexander change his name?” Granger asked Cavendish.

“I knew about it, but I did not know the entire story,” Cavendish said. “I am truly sorry you were blindsided by that. I had no idea that it would be raised in the Lords in this session and had hoped that Caroline would be here in time to fully brief you.”

“She appears to be occupied at Heathford,” Granger said. It was impossible to hide his annoyance at his wife’s behavior. “Can you enlighten me?”

“When Lord Heathford died, his peerage rightfully should have gone to Lord Crawden. It was only Lord Heathford’s passage of a Bill through Parliament that enabled him to circumvent that. The Havershams are none too happy about it, and have decided to make it an issue,” Cavendish said. “This move was an attempt by Caroline to placate them.”

“I cannot see that this will sate their desires,” Daventry said. “It is a hollow gesture at most.”

“I agree with you,” Cavendish said, “but Caroline seems to have made it her mission to ensure that her father’s wishes are honored.”

“In all honesty, I have to agree with Lord Crawden,” Granger said. “He is the rightful heir to the title, and it should go to him.”

“I think that his lordship’s interest has cooled a bit now that he knows that none of Lord Heathford’s estate would accompany the title,” Cavendish said, shaking his head. “But they are a proud and petulant bunch, so they will no doubt be unhappy until the title is duly passed onto them.”

“That sounds about right,” Granger said, rolling his eyes at his in-laws. “Do you know where things currently stand?”

“My understanding is that Lord Crawden is preparing to challenge Alexander’s inheritance of the title, but has not formally filed to do that yet,” Cavendish said. “That means he is probably trying to influence the King and the government to force the change before he has to take legal action.”

Granger nodded. “As I am headed to call on the King, can you tell me if there are any other demons lurking in the shadows I should know about?”

Cavendish gave Granger a foul look for the implication that Cavendish had held back information from him, but he sensed this was a tense situation, and opted not to push his luck with Granger. “There is one other thing.”

“Indeed?” Granger asked.

“Caroline has become part of the Princess of Wales’s circle,” Cavendish said, cringing as he did.

“Prinny certainly won’t like that,” Daventry said. “He detests his wife, and they fight constantly over Princess Charlotte, among other things.”

“His Royal Highness generally sees friends of his wife as his enemies,” Cavendish agreed.

“What possessed her to do such a thing?” Granger asked, stunned. He did not want or need to sour his relationship with the Prince of Wales.

“She claims that it is to improve her relationship with the King, since he has a soft spot for the Princess, but I think that is just so much nonsense,” Cavendish said.

“That doesn’t sound plausible,” Daventry agreed. “While the King may look kindly upon Her Royal Highness, he is not exactly her big defender, and he’s been very disappointed in how she conducts herself.”

“You mean because of all of the affairs she supposedly has had and continues to have,” Granger said with a grimace. Among the many men she entertained, she was supposedly intimate with Sir Sydney Smith, a man Granger had great respect for. “No wonder Caroline is not worried about her reputation. It must already be destroyed.”

“It has not helped,” Cavendish allowed. “I sense that the freedom that we talked about in the carriage yesterday, of Caroline’s desire to be treated equally with men, is a factor that fuels her ties to the Princess of Wales.”

“Her Royal Highness is quite the rebel, defies society, and does pretty much as she pleases,” Daventry added in agreement.

“Unfortunately for Caroline, she is not a Royal Princess, so she does not have so much leeway,” Granger said with a scowl. “I must see what I can do to separate the damage she does to herself from me and my children.”

“I have never heard more resounding support in the Lords as I heard yesterday,” Daventry noted. “You are almost universally popular, George. I think you are in a position to rise above this.”

“I agree with Daventry,” Cavendish said. “I think that if you are seen to distance yourself from Caroline, and it becomes understood that she is your wife in name only, it will be bad for her while enhancing your reputation.”

“That is not something I had been planning to do,” Granger said. As mad as he was at Caroline, it was painful to throw her to the wolves like that.

“I fear it is not something for which you have a choice,” Daventry said. “I fear it is something you must do.”

“What will happen to Caroline?” Granger asked rhetorically, but his friends answered his question for him.

“I think that she will become more formally attached to the Princess of Wales, and in that way she will build a life in those limited social circumstances,” Cavendish said.

“She will still have Heathford, or at least the income it generates, so she will be independently wealthy in a group that will not scorn her for her indiscretions,” Daventry added.

“It appears that I must spend some time making sure my assets are separate from hers, so that she doesn’t spend my money to maintain Heathford only to then use that income for her own devices,” Granger said ruefully.

“George, I think that is only a small part of this,” Cavendish said. “I think that you must take the reins of your estates and affairs, because as it stands now, Caroline is in control.”

“Will you two help me accomplish that?” Granger asked. That may have seemed like a normal request, in that they could glibly assure him of their support, but in this case, it required more of a commitment than that. Caroline would be incensed when she was frozen out of things, especially politics, and if they pledged to help him they would incur her wrath.

“I will stand with you,” Daventry said firmly, then both he and Granger focused their eyes on Cavendish.

“George, I will support you,” Cavendish finally said. “I am sorry I hesitated. I was thinking of the potential consequences of doing so, but they did not or will not change my pledge.”

“I understand,” Granger said in a caring way. “This homecoming is shaping up to be as disruptive as the one when I returned after the Battle of St. Vincent. It is good to know I have you two in my corner. I would be quite alone otherwise.”

“I think that your father will support you as well,” Cavendish said.

“I do not share your conviction,” Granger said. “I think the same thing has happened again, where he has let his mind be warped by Freddie and Davina, along with the attraction of Lady Kendal’s estate.”

“They don’t even know who she left all her money to,” Cavendish noted.

“I suspect that my father was hoping that she would leave the bulk of her estate to him, and that way he would not only enhance his own wealth, he would have the power to eventually distribute it as he wished,” Granger observed.

“Well the last time this happened, he got clarity,” Daventry noted.

“Such a fickle person is not someone I can rely on right now, in the situation I am in,” Granger said. “My mother is probably more firmly in my corner, but she is so petulant with the other ladies at Court I question how much influence she has and how valid her guidance is. I certainly don’t want to model my behavior after hers.”

“I think that perhaps you overstate how petulant she is, or at least how petulant she is perceived to be,” Daventry noted. “You must also consider that the women at Court must usually be snipers, taking shots at their opponents whenever an opportunity presents itself, while the men are more like cuirassiers and charge right into the battle.”

“Perhaps,” Granger said.

“I heard that you had an unpleasant conversation with St. Vincent yesterday,” Cavendish said, changing the subject.

“In his letter to me, he all but questioned my courage and honor, so I think, based on that, our conversation was quite pleasant,” Granger replied.

“He is known to carry a grudge, so you are unlikely to be given another ship,” Cavendish said nervously.

“That is just as well, since it seems I will need to be here to sort things out,” Granger said.

“This much is certain,” Daventry agreed. That served to end their conversation and their breakfast. Granger left the dining room and exited his house, descending the stairs to the waiting carriage.

“The Queen’s House,” he said to the coachman.

“Right away, my lord,” he said, then smiled. “And begging your pardon, but it is right good to have your lordship back.”

“Thank you,” Granger said, shooting the man his charismatic smile. He settled into the soft leather seats of the vehicle for the brief ride. His mind wanted to take him to a dark place, where he mourned yet again over his wife’s actions and over losing her, but he needed to be fully alert when dealing with the King, so he opted to push Caroline to the equivalent of the waiting room in his mind.

The carriage pulled up to the Queen’s House and paused as the guards attempted to ascertain who was inside. They glanced through the windows at Granger and evidently decided he was harmless enough and let him pass. The Queen’s House had originally been the Buckingham House, built for the Duke of Buckingham earlier last century. The king had bought it for his wife, and it had been renamed the Queen’s House, although it was also informally referred to as Buckingham Palace. It had been significantly remodeled, or so Granger had been told, but it was still nothing more grand than the London townhouse of Lord Spencer or the Duke of Devonshire. Granger once again reflected on how the British Royal Residences paled in comparison to the Imperial Russian palaces.

He alit from the carriage and strode confidently up to the doors, which footmen duly opened for him. There was a chamberlain there to greet him. “I am Viscount Granger,” Granger told him. “I have just returned from Russia and the Baltic and wanted to pay my respects to His Majesty.”

“Do you have an appointment, my lord?” he asked. Granger felt like he was back at Mitau Palace dealing with French Royal officials.

“I do not,” Granger said. “I understand if this is an inconvenient time, but I only arrived in London yesterday, and wanted to call on His Majesty as soon as possible.” The chamberlain knew who Granger was, and he was even more aware of Granger’s father, the Duke of Suffolk. They locked eyes in a mental power struggle, one that Granger finally won.

“My lord, would you please wait for a moment?” he asked. “I will let Lord Salisbury know you are here.”

“I appreciate your help,” Granger said, and smiled again.

It took a full fifteen minutes before Lord Salisbury appeared, looking a bit annoyed. “Welcome home, Granger.”

“Thank you,” Granger replied.

“I’m not sure just showing up at the palace uninvited is the polite thing to do, but you have piqued His Majesty’s curiosity,” Salisbury said. “Follow me.”

Granger fell in step with him and opted to ask him a few questions. “How is the King doing?”

“He seems to have recovered from his illness,” Salisbury said, then put aside his annoyance, remembering how Granger had seen the king when he was psychotic and had helped keep a lid on things. “We’ll have to hope that continues.”

“I will do my best not to upset him,” Granger said with a smile. “Is he alone?”

“No, he just finished breakfast and is in the drawing room with his family,” Salisbury said. Their conversation ended when they arrived at the drawing room. “Your Majesties, Lord Granger,” he announced much less formally than he would if this were St. James’s Palace. Granger entered the room and found the Royal family arranged in front of him as if they were posing for a portrait. He bowed with a flourish to the King and Queen, who were both smiling, then bowed less deeply to the princes and princesses who were assembled.

“Granger, you’re back from the Baltic,” the King said in a friendly way. “Come tell us about your travels, what what.” One of the King’s odder habits was to add those last two words to his sentences.

“It is good to see Your Majesty, and I will be happy to share my experiences with you,” Granger said. Before he could do that, he found himself distracted by greeting all of the princesses and most of the princes. It was very difficult to be nice to the Duke of Cumberland. He had an expression that was part amusement and part sneer.

“Granger,” he said dismissively.

“Your Royal Highness,” Granger responded, being careful to bow only as much as was prescribed. He opted to throw a spike in this man’s plans to force him to evict his Catholic tenants. “I did not know that you were such an advocate for the Papists.” It was hilarious to see him get flustered and enraged at that.

“I am no friend to the Catholic church or its idolators,” he said stiffly. “Why would you even say such a thing?”

“I beg your pardon, sir,” Granger said politely. “You have demanded that the four Catholic families living in Brentwood be evicted. They will no doubt relocate to Norfolk or one of the other northern counties, where there are many who share their religion, and where they will probably be welcomed. I will leave it up to Your Royal Highness to determine if it is wiser to have such families living amongst good Anglicans, as opposed to being introduced into a mob with their co-religionists.”

“That’s a fine mess, Cumberland,” one of the princes said. Granger had not met him yet, so he assumed that this must be the Duke of Kent. “Get the Papists together so that the northern counties are as rebellious as Ireland.”

“Shall I designate some extra regiments to quell the uprisings?” the Duke of York asked playfully. The two of them were having great fun taunting Cumberland, which amused Granger greatly.

Cumberland gave Granger, York, and Kent sinister looks. “These Catholics whom you would all worry about are treasonous scum just waiting for the moment to revolt.”

Granger reached into his breast pocket and pulled out what he hoped was the coup-de-gras in this situation. It had come to him just last night in a packet of papers from Broadhead, his Estate Manager at Brentwood. It was a very well-done drawing of the King, taken from one of the coins that circulated throughout the realm, with the letters “We Love King George” written above it. He handed the drawing to the King. “Your Majesty, this was drawn by a 7-year-old boy named Michael Albany who lives with his family in Brentwood. He is one of the Papists I am to evict.”

“He is seven, what what? A peasant boy?” The King asked, then studied the drawing more carefully. “It is quite good.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Granger responded.

“You will bring him to meet us,” the King directed, stunning Granger and the rest of the Royal family as well. He passed the drawing to the Queen, who raised an approving eyebrow, then she passed it on to the Royal Dukes. All of them gave Cumberland a smarmy look, while that man merely twisted his mouth in frustration. “We will be at Windsor after Parliament is prorogued. Bring him there.”

“I will do as you have directed, sir,” Granger replied.

The King glared at Cumberland, who caved immediately. “Your Catholic peasants may remain at Brentwood, Granger.”

“I thank Your Royal Highness for your kindness, and for allowing me to retain good tenant farmers,” Granger said politely, but his charm was wasted on this man. The King seemed as amused by this whole interchange as his other sons.

“Granger, it is time for my walk,” the King announced. “Accompany me, what what.”

“With pleasure, Your Majesty,” Granger said. The King led him out to the Buckingham Gardens where they strolled down the paths, preceded and followed discreetly by his guards.

“Tell me of your journeys,” the King commanded.

“Of course, sir,” Granger answered, then recited the tale of his voyages. The King seemed fascinated and especially entranced by the stories of his battles and of his interactions with his fellow sovereigns. Granger would have felt as if he were giving a sermon but for the periodic interruptions and questions from the King.

“Tell me of these sovereigns you have met,” the King demanded, evidently wanting a fuller description.

“The Prince Regent of Denmark did not impress me with his intellect, sir,” Granger said honestly. “I came to believe that he thinks he is much smarter than he is.”

The King laughed at that. “It is a plight many of us are stricken with.”

“Inasmuch as it is my place to agree with Your Majesty, I think that but for Your Majesty and His Imperial Majesty, I must do just that,” Granger observed, getting a full laugh from the King, one that vanished immediately as the King became moody.

“And what of the King of Sweden?” he asked, moving them onto a different topic. Granger swallowed hard before proceeding with that topic. How did one tell one’s sovereign, who had been recently unbalanced, that the King of Sweden was unbalanced?

“He seems to be thinking clearly one minute, then acts bizarrely the next, sir,” Granger said, treading carefully on this topic.

“Explain that, what what,” the King said.

“I had several conversations with him where he demonstrated that he is quite aware of Sweden’s plight, a once powerful nation now all but a vassal of Russia, sir,” Granger explained. “On the other hand, he seemed obsessed with compelling Lord Daventry and me to attend a Lutheran service.”

“You did not find attending a service in a different church to be heresy?” the King asked, although Granger suspected the King was merely baiting him to ensure he wasn’t a closet Catholic.

“A Lutheran service did not seem to be a problem, sir, since as I recall, your near relatives worship in that faith,” Granger said with a cheeky smile. The King laughed again.

“This much is true, what what,” he said.

“I have attended Catholic and Greek Orthodox services as well, sir,” Granger said, feeling the need to expand on his answer. “I find them interesting, almost in the same way that I viewed the pyramids. I do not abide by their tenets, but I can see the beauty in the outward forms of how they worship God. I feel that as long as I don’t indulge in the sacraments and take communion, I have not been disloyal to my own church.” Granger could have told the King that he really didn’t care a fig about religion, but knew that would evoke a severely negative reaction from the King.

“I think that is how it should be,” the King said, giving Granger religious dispensation for his actions. “The King of France now resides in the Prussian part of Poland after having been evicted from Russia.”

“I am glad to learn they safely found a new place of exile, sir,” Granger said. The King looked curiously at Granger, because his comment had evidently been meant to prompt Granger to comment on his visit to Mitau. “I had originally feared that their eviction from Russia was mostly their own doing, as they were most stubborn and pedantic, and did not show the Tsar the respect he felt he deserved.”

“But you do not think that now, what what?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Granger said. “I subsequently discovered that Tsar Paul had been working with Napoleon on an alliance, one that would have had them invade India together. In that situation, their eviction from Mitau was almost inevitable.”

“India?” The King asked, truly appalled.

“Yes, sir,” Granger said. “The Russians had already begun to mass troops in the land of the Cossacks for that purpose.”

“I suppose I must thank you and Lord Daventry for engineering the coup that brought down Tsar Paul and eliminated that threat,” the King mused.

“You’re welcome, sir,” Granger said, being a bit cheeky, and making the King chuckle. “Tsar Paul was a most unstable man. The nobility were determined to be rid of him, and we were but the spark that caused the coup.”

“It is disturbing that the nobility would rise against their own sovereign,” the King said. It was reasonable that he was upset by that, as it was every monarch’s nightmare, although such a thing in England was all but unthinkable now.

“You are correct, of course, sir, but things are different in Russia,” Granger explained. “The Tsar is all-powerful. He can, on a whim, confiscate all the possessions of a nobleman and banish him to Siberia with the nobleman having no recourse in court or otherwise.”

“There are times that I wish I was that powerful,” the King said, making both of them laugh. “This new Tsar is not like that?”

“He is not, Your Majesty,” Granger said. “I was privileged to be part of Tsar Alexander’s inner circle, and inasmuch as it is possible, I consider him a friend.”

That clearly shocked the King. “Indeed?”

“Yes, sir,” Granger said, even as he buried the sadness of being apart from Alexander. “He has enlightened ideas, in that he would ultimately like to see Russia with a system of government much like ours.”

“That is a bit surprising,” the King said.

“Yes, sir,” Granger responded, “but he was raised in the court of Catherine the Great, and was encouraged to believe in the theories espoused by Voltaire and other thinkers like him.”

“He seems to be an odd fit to be the Tsar, what what,” the King said.

“I think, sir, that he is right now balancing the duties of being the Tsar with his dreams of what Russia should become,” Granger said.

The King nodded, then they said nothing as they continued to walk. “There is a somewhat contentious issue, one that you encountered yesterday in the Lords.”

“Indeed, sir?” Granger asked. Of course he knew what the issue was, but he wanted the King to explain his reasoning.

“Lord Heathford’s wishes for his estate were ushered through Parliament, and no one seemed to realize at the time that while his assets are to be distributed as he directed, his title should go to Lord Crawden instead of to your son, Alexander,” the King said. His entire tone had changed, so now he was completely serious and stern.

“Yes, sir,” Granger said. “I was made aware of that yesterday, and I must say that I agree with Lord Crawden.”

“You do?” the King asked, shocked, since Granger appeared to agree to taking away his son’s peerage.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Granger said. “While such a provision is most beneficial to my son, I fear that the damage it would do to the normal rights of succession is too great to risk.”

The King stared at him and smiled. “Then you are willing, as Alexander’s father, to formally renounce the title of Viscount of Heathford on his behalf?”

“I am, Your Majesty,” Granger said.

“That is most noble of you, Granger,” the King said. “I have a plan in mind so your son is not completely devoid of a position.”

“For that I must thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said.

“Your wife was much less flexible than you are,” the King observed, showing how angry he was at Caroline. Granger recognized that he now had his opening to banish Caroline from influential society. He was initially loath to take it, but he recognized that Caroline’s power in London was extensive, and the only way for him to take control of his affairs was to have her removed from the scene.

“Sir, I have not spoken to my wife since my return,” Granger said. The King looked both surprised and saddened by that, so Granger mirrored his melancholic attitude. “She went to Heathford with Lady Heathford and Colonel Stewart, and has not answered my letters.”

“I was most unhappy with her over her affair with Gloucester, and now I am even more vexed,” the King said with venom.

“As am I, Your Majesty,” Granger said. “I have done my best to be a good husband and to be forgiving, but I fear that nothing I have tried has worked.”

“That is unfortunate,” the King said sympathetically.

“It is indeed, sir,” Granger said.

“You are not contemplating a divorce, are you?” the King asked, showing how horrifying such an action would be to him.

“I am not, sir, at least not at this time,” Granger said. “I will have much to do to put my affairs in order, especially since Caroline and I are estranged, and I have four heirs so it is not as if I am desperate to sire more children.”

“And you are still very young, so there is ample opportunity for that,” the King said encouragingly.

“One can hope, Your Majesty,” Granger said with a grin. “I wonder if I could impose upon Your Majesty to make this process easier?”

“What do you need, Granger?” The King asked suspiciously, a tone he probably used often when people solicited favors.

“It will be difficult to get control of my affairs if my wife is in London, sir,” Granger said respectfully.

“You want me to banish her to keep her out of the way, what what?” the King asked.

“If Your Majesty would be so kind,” Granger said.

“I will ponder your request,” the King said.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said. He knew there was one more topic he needed to broach, so he persevered. “I fear I have vexed the Duke of Cumberland.”

“Everyone vexes Cumberland,” the King said with a wry expression, making Granger smile. “If he causes you problems, approach me or the Queen and we will sort it out.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Granger said.