By the King's Design (47 page)

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Authors: Christine Trent

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Then the king's laughter rent the air. “Ahaha. I played a little joke on you, didn't I, Mrs. Boyce? I quite enjoy seeing your shocked face.”
The room visibly relaxed.
Belle's mind worked furiously. This was all that was wrong with tying one's future with princes. She despised the thought of forever nodding and smiling in the face of the king's cruelties and peccadilloes. And at any moment he might decide that he really did want an affair with her, and would hold the royal warrant as hostage.
The Nashes might have sold their souls to this devil, but she never would.
Belle stood, trembling, but determined to have her say.
Careful, don't let your uncontrollable tongue ruin your life.
“I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but as great as the honor is, I'm afraid I can't accept it.”
The king was no longer laughing. “Pardon me, Mrs. Boyce? Did I hear you aright? Did you just refuse the royal warrant?”
“I regret that I must.”
“You would be the first tradesman in all of English history to turn it down. Is there something about you that is unsuitable for such an honor?”
Mr. Crace jumped in. “Yes, Your Majesty, it has been my experience that she is utterly unsuitable for work on an important project like the Pavilion. Too outspoken and vulgar.”
“This is none of your concern, Mr. Crace,” Belle said. “Kindly conduct yourself accordingly.”
Crace gaped at her.
“As I was saying, Your Majesty, I regret that I cannot accept this singularly distinctive honor. For you see, I plan to join my husband in his cabinetmaking shop. I will no longer be a draper.”
“Ah,” Nash said. “So does this mean your shop will be available for purchase?”
Wesley's voice reached out to her from the past.
Has it ever occurred to you that Mr. Nash wants to take possession of your shop?
“No, Mr. Nash, it does not. I will use my existing inventory for covering furniture in my husband's shop and then shutter my own shop entirely.”
Nash's face fell, but only for a moment before radiating sunshine again. “It was worth asking. Pity, though. Such a profitable enterprise.”
“Your appreciation for my success is overwhelming, sir.”
The king was frowning, his mind working furiously behind his eyes. “Mrs. Boyce, I believe we have a problem here. You are turning down the royal warrant, yet I cannot be known as a king whose generous offer was refused.”
“No, Your Majesty.”
“Therefore, our trade with you must cease immediately. You can no longer consult with Messrs. Nash or Crace.”
Crace was practically bouncing in joy.
“Of course, sir, I understand.”
Belle knew she was saying good-bye to the Pavilion forever.
 
Belle bathed to remove all of the road dust and grime and changed into her nightgown. She typically loved this exact moment every evening, when Put slid into bed next to her, and they murmured quietly together as the candle burned down and sleep overcame them.
Tonight, though, she needed to tell him what happened with the king.
He went right to it. “How was everything in Brighton?”
“I suppose that depends on what sort of outcome we were hoping for.”
“I see. Do you plan to confess your sins to me?”
“Suffice to say that for one brief moment I held the royal warrant for the provision of cloth, but refused it because of what may have been either the smartest or stupidest decision I have ever made. Actually, I managed to lose my work on the Pavilion entirely.”
He kissed her. “So you were quite reckless in your decision?”
“Mmm, I would say resolved.”
“Yes, you are that. Well, I'm not surprised. So now what?”
“I was thinking ...” She entwined her fingers with his and put her head on his chest. “I was thinking that perhaps running a draper's shop isn't the most profitable use of my time.”
“And what would be a better use of Mrs. Boyce's time?”
“I thought perhaps a certain cabinetmaker could use his wife's talent for picking out fabrics for furniture and covering them. I'm imagining copying some of the fantastical pieces in the Pavilion for sale to London's elite.”
“But you know nothing about upholstery.”
She shrugged. “I knew nothing about cloth until my father showed me. I knew nothing about interiors until Mr. Nash taught me. I can learn upholstery.”
“What about your shop?”
“Molly is learning quickly. I'll sell it to her, and she can run it under another name. She can order whatever fabrics I need to cover the exotic pieces that the Boyce Cabinetmakers shop will produce.”
“Boyce and Sons sounds better.”
She squeezed his hand. “One thing at a time, husband. What do you think of my idea?”
“A fine solution to losing the king's work, I think.”
“I think so, too.”
As she closed her eyes, she sent up a little prayer of apology to her father for walking away from the business he'd worked so hard to pass on to her. She sensed Fafa would understand her desire to renew her life.
Just as sleep was about to overtake her, Belle realized that she still didn't know whether the king was guilty or innocent in his wife's death. With her dismissal from the Pavilion, she might never know the truth.
Nor would the world.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
George Hanover, the Prince Regent and later King George IV (1762–1830), was one of the more unloved monarchs of British history. Unquestionably a self-absorbed, hedonistic, gluttonous spendthrift, he was also a great patron of the arts, and was largely instrumental in the foundation of the National Gallery in London, as well as King's College.
His father, George III, who would eventually die after years of suffering from porphyria, had little use for the young George, and therefore gave him few duties and responsibilities, yet expected the young prince to behave in a ... well ... princely manner. It was an impossibly conflicting goal, and George misspent his youth. The young George thwarted his father in everything, from illegally marrying the Catholic Maria Fitzherbert to running up debts to the tune of over £600,000 (nearly $80 million in today's money). The London
Times
once wrote that he would always prefer “a girl and a bottle to politics and a sermon.”
After his father's death in 1820, George ascended the throne as George IV, and his personal antics continued to swell in direct relationship to his waistline as he unsuccessfully attempted a divorce from his legal wife, the Princess Caroline of Brunswick. This very public affair soured whatever popularity he may have had with the public.
His extravagant coronation can be marked by his coronation crown, which was adorned with 12,314 hired diamonds. The new king acquired the large blue diamond that would become known as the Hope Diamond. It had been looted from the French crown jewels in 1792. The gem turned up in England as a recut stone, after the statute of limitations had run out in 1812, in the possession of a diamond merchant. George IV purchased the stone in 1820.
On George's death in 1830, the London
Times
editorialized that “there never was an individual less regretted by his fellow creatures than this deceased king.” An interesting and telling commentary regarding a monarch who had effectively been on the throne for nearly twenty years.
There are numerous statues of the self-indulgent George IV, many of which were erected during his reign, including a bronze statue of him on horseback in Trafalgar Square, London, and another outside the Royal Pavilion in Brighton.
Although the series of kings named George have a style named after them, it is interesting to note that one of those kings, who ruled in his own right a mere nine years, had an entire style—in both architecture and fashion—attributed to his tastes. Regency architectural style is marked by residences typically built as terraces or crescents, with multiple homes joined together to resemble one great mansion. Elegant wrought-iron balconies and bow windows came into fashion during this period. Regency interiors were typically filled with exceedingly elegant furniture, vertically striped wallpaper, painted decorative effects such as marbling or stenciling, lavish draperies covering both windows and walls, and indoor potted plants.
Regency clothing for men was typified by the famous dandy Beau Brummell and his simple—but always elegant and perfect!—clothing. The empire silhouette reigned for women's gowns.
George IV may have lacked morals, manners, and restraint, but he certainly had style.
The ongoing scandal of George IV's treatment of his wife, Caroline of Brunswick (1768–1821), Princess of Wales and later Queen Caroline, was more than equaled by Caroline's own peccadilloes. George's complaints of her personal hygiene seem to have been justified, yet she was also a kind woman, adopting and fostering out nearly a dozen children and engendering loyalty and devotion from people in many quarters.
Her rapid decline over the course of two weeks in July–August 1821, combined with the fact that her body swelled grotesquely and turned black within two hours of death, led many to conclude that Caroline had in fact been poisoned to death. Her physicians speculated that she may have had an intestinal obstruction. Modern medical opinion concludes that she likely died of natural causes, possibly a tumor with the complication of a blood infection, which would account for the blackening of her body, but the exact cause of her death remains unknown.
In any case, a poison rumor creates great fiction, and I chose to use it in my story.
The Prince Regent may have cast aside Maria Fitzherbert (1756–1837) to disastrously marry his cousin, but it was Fitzherbert who won in the end. Their on-again, off-again relationship lasted for more than twenty years, and she did indeed take up residence in a house merely a stone's throw from the Royal Pavilion. After their final break in 1811, she retired into private life with a £6,000 annuity (worth around $6 million in today's money, not shabby). Interestingly, Maria remained greatly respected by society and other members of the royal family for the rest of her life. In her will, Maria outlined her two principal beneficiaries, Mary Ann Stafford-Jerningham and Mary Georgina Emma Dawson-Damer, who were nominally the daughters of other people but to whom Maria wrote that she had “loved them both with the ... affection any mother could do, and I have done the utmost in my power for their interests and comfort.” Presumably, these were George's children, since there is no evidence of children from either of her first two marriages.
Lady Isabella Hertford (1759–1834) was the Prince Regent's mistress from 1807 to 1819. The Prince Regent really did give her a Gainsborough portrait of his youthful mistress Maria Robinson as a gift. The painting now resides in the Hertfords' London home, now known as the Wallace Collection museum.
Lady Elizabeth Conyngham (1769–1861) picked up where Lady Isabella left off, serving as the king's mistress from 1819 until his death in 1830. Both she and Lady Hertford shared the same appreciation for money, rank, and favors. Both women also had compliant husbands, who seemed to not mind their wives' activities if it meant furthering the family's social position. Especially in the case of Lady Conyngham, who had multiple love affairs even prior to that with the king, including Lord Ponsonby and the future Tsar Nicholas I of Russia. George gave Lady Elizabeth expensive clothes and jewels, and her husband successive titles. Lord Conyngham rose from viscount to earl to marquess in only twenty years. In return, Lady Elizabeth kept the aging king amused. She did attempt to instill more spirituality in her sovereign. After the king's sudden death in 1830, Lady Conyngham fled to Paris for a time, then returned to England. She died near Canterbury in 1861, at the ripe old age of ninety-two.
John Nash (1752–1835), born rather inconspicuously to a millwright, had a rather lackluster career before coming to the notice of the Prince Regent. Although Nash had a distinguished schooling under the eminent Palladian architect Sir Robert Taylor, he was never a learned student of the Classical Orders and rebelled against them, preferring his own version of the Picturesque style. His early career was marked by scattered commissions all across England, Wales, and Ireland, as well as by a financial calamity when he tried his hand at London real estate speculation.
Although Nash designed so many country houses, cathedrals, and castles that his entire body of work is still not documented, it is his skill as a city planner where his talent truly shone. With the Prince Regent's passionate support, Nash created a master plan to develop Marylebone Park, an area that stretched from St. James's northwards, and included Regent Street, Regent's Park, and all of the surrounding streets, terraces, and homes.
Although named for him, Regent Street was in no way the Prince Regent's idea. However, he did give it enthusiastic support, viewing it as an achievement that would “quite eclipse Napoleon,” a sentiment that would have garnered popular support of the time. Ironically, Regent Street was designed from the beginning to be not only a direct connection from Carlton House to a royal park, as well as a convenient route for inhabitants of the West End to reach the Houses of Parliament and the social whirl of St. James, but also as a pleasurable shopping district for the
ton
members of society, and was therefore an accurate reflection of the prince's character.
Although Regent Street is still a famous shopping district, most of Nash's buildings have since been replaced, except for All Souls Church. This early nineteenth-century church stands oddly against the backdrop of the very modern BBC Broadcasting House.
Nash was also a director of the Regent Canal Company, established in 1812, to provide a canal link from west London to the Thames River in the east. Other notable commissions included a remodeling of Buckingham House (later Buckingham Palace), the Marble Arch, Trafalgar Square, St. James's Park, Haymarket Theatre, Carlton House Terrace, and All Souls Church, Langham Place.
But Nash's lasting achievement was his work on the Royal Pavilion, the Prince Regent's extravagant palace in the seaside resort town of Brighton, East Sussex.
Nash wasn't given the work of transforming the Royal Pavilion until 1815, although it better suited my story for it to start three years earlier. Henry Holland redesigned the existing farmhouse into the first incarnation of a “pavilion” for the Prince Regent in 1787, and the nucleus of that building still remains today. Nash's expensive and extravagant additions and renovations would last until 1823. The king confessed that he cried for joy when he contemplated the Pavilion's splendors. Interestingly, George IV only made two subsequent visits to the palace, in 1824 and 1827.
John Nash was well-known as very good-natured and civil to all around him. Although he was characterized as having “a face like a monkey's,” he was also clever and amusing, as well as self-deprecating. He also completely disregarded social barriers and assumed he would be welcome at all levels of society. He usually was, attracting work from both landed aristocrats with inherited fortunes and the nouveau-riche.
After George IV's death in 1830, Nash was dismissed on grounds of profligacy from his work on remodeling Buckingham House. The pain of this public humiliation was too much for him. He suffered a stroke, and retreated to his favorite home, East Cowes Castle, on the Isle of Wight, where he never really recovered, dying bedridden at the age of eighty-three in 1835.
Although England had guilds for nearly every profession under the sun, there was no guild for architects and they were not formally licensed to do business. Nor was there any formal training or schools dedicated to the study of architecture. Someone simply studied under a respected architect long enough until he was able to secure his own commissions. Nash studied for ten years under Robert Taylor.
Mary Ann Bradley (1773–1851) was, by all accounts, a vivacious and beautiful woman when Nash married her and took her five children under his wing in 1798. All of her papers were later burned, but there is evidence—including a plethora of later political cartoons showing a corpulent prince and his equally corpulent mistress, Mrs. Nash—to suggest that she was indeed the Prince Regent's mistress for many years and that all of her children were actually his. Did Nash and George IV have an agreement whereby Nash would house Mary Ann and her children in exchange for preferential building contracts?
Regardless, Nash's household and way of life demonstrated inexplicable affluence from 1798 on, and he did become the prince's favorite architect.
After her husband's death in 1835, Mary Ann Nash moved permanently to Hampstead, where she lived with her daughter, Anne, until her own death in 1851.
Frederick Crace (1779–1859) and Robert Jones (about whom little is known) were artist-designers heavily involved in Nash's rebuilding of the Marine Pavilion into the Royal Pavilion, with Crace beginning work in 1815 and Jones joining the project in 1817. Most of the major rooms (the Banqueting Room, the Saloon, the Red Drawing Room, and the King's Apartments) were designed by Jones, while Crace undertook the Music Room and the Banqueting Room Galleries. Both men were in complete sync with Nash's and the prince's desire to create a magnificent setting for the man who became George IV. My portrayal of Crace's personality is a complete invention.
The Prince Regent greatly admired Jane Austen (1775–1817) and kept a set of her books at each residence. The admiration was not mutual. In fact, in once referring to Princess Caroline, Jane said, “I hate her husband,” and, “I am resolved at least always to think that she would have been respectable, if the Prince had behaved tolerably by her at first.” But in November 1815 (I pushed the date up to May to better suit my story), George's librarian, James Stanier Clarke (1766–1834), invited Jane to visit the prince's London residence, Carlton House, and hinted very directly that Jane should dedicate her forthcoming novel,
Emma,
to the prince. How could she refuse?
Later, Clarke sent Jane a letter thanking her on behalf of the Regent for his copy of
Emma
and also providing suggestions as to what European royal houses she might want to dedicate future novels, as well as what topics she should pursue in her writing. Jane later wrote
Plan of a Novel, according to Hints from Various Quarters,
a satire on how to outline the “perfect” novel, based on Clarke's many suggestions.
For the purposes of my own novel, which was fortunately not under the influence of someone like the Prince Regent's librarian, I chose to let Clarke press Jane to dedicate
Emma
to the Prince Regent, as well as make his infamous “recommendations” to her, all in one sitting.

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