The Captive of Kensington Palace by Jean Plaidy Page B

and say that you, a royal Princess, thirty years ago gave birth to a child while you were living under the roof of your father, the King, and were unmarried? Are you going to tell the world how you became the mistress of General Garth and how we smuggled you out of the Palace to give birth to a child … a son … ?’
    Sophia covered her face with her hands. ‘It’s all so long ago. Why need it be remembered now?’
    ‘Such things are never forgotten. To have a child …’ Augusta spoke almost wistfully … ‘I mean, there is the living evidence of one’s act.’
    ‘He is such a dear boy, Augusta. I live to see him.’
    ‘I know. I understand. And it is wanton wickedness to accuse you of incest. Even Cumberland is not guilty of that.’
    ‘What can I do?’
    ‘Nothing. They will get tired … in time.’
    ‘Oh, Augusta, sometimes I wish I’d died like Amelia. Darling Amelia, what a happy life she had.’
    ‘Happy. She was constantly in pain!’
    ‘But she had no worries. Papa adored her. It was her death which finally sent him mad, I believe. Oh, Augusta, think of us … living so quietly as we did at Kew … sitting there with Mamma, one of us reading while the others sewed, or looked after the dogs or saw that Mamma’s snuff-box was always full and at her elbow! It was all so incredibly dull … nothing happened we used to say. And this happened … and now here we are two old women and people are telling these lies about me.’
    ‘But our lives were not as they seemed, were they, Sophia? No one’s life ever is. There we were, as you say, sitting with Mamma, and all the time we were planning how to smuggle you away so that you might have your baby and no one know …’
    ‘I shall never forget that time,’ said Sophia, shivering with recollection. ‘It was so frightening … and so exciting. And now … even now … I wouldn’t have it different. Augusta play to me. Sing to me one of your songs.’
    ‘Is that what you want?’
    ‘It would comfort me. It takes me back. Do you remember how Papa used to listen to your songs?’
    ‘Yes, as though I were a child who had done a good piece of work.’
    ‘He never believed anyone could write music but Handel. Oh, Augusta, how different everything might have been if Papa and Mamma had been different. The Princesses of the Royal Court. It sounds so wonderful, does it not? And how dull it was … how unbelievably dull. And yet …’
    Augusta went to the harpsichord and began to play. Sophia picked up the purse she was netting.
    Augusta was right. It would pass. It was just one of the scandals which were hurled now and then at the royal family.
    But Cumberland! How revolting! As if it could have been anyone else but dear Colonel Garth – as he had been in those days. So tender, so loving, so devoted. She would remember the romance of her youth, forget the disgusting construction people were putting on it in their newspapers.
    She would live in her quiet corner of Kensington Palace and perhaps it would be wise for the boy not to come for a while. And after that it would pass … perhaps. At least people would cease to talk of it.

    ‘It is time,’ said the Duchess of Kent to Sir John Conroy, ‘that we were given apartments away from Kensington Palace. Why should I be expected to live here with the Princess Sophia – and indeed these rumours shock me deeply – on one side and the Duke of Sussex on the other and we know how irregularly he is living with that Buggin woman. How he can possibly live with a woman with such a name, I cannot imagine. And under the same roof, I am expected to live with the heiress to the throne.’
    ‘My dear Duchess,’ said Sir John soothingly, ‘it is iniquitous, I grant you, but I doubt you would be wise to approach His Majesty at this juncture.’
    ‘His Majesty! A fine example he sets. He has insulted me twice. Once at Victoria’s christening and again at Feodora’s wedding.’
    ‘Let us do nothing to provoke a third