[2] The Duchess of Kent and Strathearn | B. Bridgerton

Chapter 10

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Buckingham House, London

Charlotte was elegantly settled next to her mother's chair in one of the opulent drawing rooms of the palace. Despite her efforts to conceal it, a hint of fear lingered within her as the men lifted her above their heads, a fleeting worry of potential harm. Yet, her concerns dissipated as she was safely lowered back to the ground without incident. With tender care, Lilia gently entrusted her newborn son into Charlotte's waiting arms. Drawing him close, Charlotte instinctively cradled him, murmuring soothing lullabies as she awaited the arrival of the Queen and the Prince Regent.

As she gazes upon her son, a wave of disbelief washes over her each time, marveling at the role she played in bringing such a beautiful little prince into the world. He is not only her son but a precious blend of her and her husband's essence.
Yet, amidst the joy and wonder, nagging thoughts invade her mind. Doubts surface, causing her to ponder: Will she measure up as a mother? Will she possess the strength and wisdom to guide her son through life's challenges? Can she strike the delicate balance required of her roles as both a princess and a duchess, a devoted wife, and a nurturing mother?

"Sister!" She flinched and looked up to see her brother, a wide grin on his face. "I– I can't believe it!"

"Do not yell, Your Royal Highness, please," Lilia quietly said. "It might scare your nephew."

"My nephew," George chuckled happily. "When Caroline told me what she read in Lady Whistledown's sheet I couldn't believe it... But he's here. He's finally here!"

"Would you like to hold him?" A small smile graced Charlotte's face.

With unwavering resolve, George lowered himself to his knees before his sister, positioning himself as close as possible to make it effortless for her to place his nephew in his awaiting arms. As she gently transferred the baby to him, George rose with meticulous care, his gaze filled with profound admiration as he beheld the tiny bundle in awe.

"How did everything go?" He sighed. "I regret I wasn't there for you, Sister. Could you not have waited to give birth until you've returned?"

"I am going to move on and pretend you did not just say that," Charlotte scoffed. "It's not like it was my intention to give birth at Aubrey Hall."

"What is his name, Sister?" He asked.

"I won't tell you just yet," she said, receiving a confused look. "Benedict and I want him to be just our son before the news of his arrival spread far and wide... We just wanted to hold onto something sacred for ourselves, for however long it lasts."

"What a ridiculous idea," Charlotte flinched again when she heard her mother's voice coming from behind her. "Are you alright, Daughter?"

"I'm fine, Mama. I'm just..." She sighed, and faked a smile. "I'm fine."

"And how is he?" The Queen asked. "Have you checked with our physicians? Is he healthy?"

"He is our next King," Charlotte tried her hardest not to cry in that moment as she looked at her mother in the eyes. "Could he be anything else...other than perfection?"

"You are right, Daughter... He is perfect," the Queen smiled proudly at her. "As you are."

Precisely one minute later, while the Queen admired the newborn prince cradled in the Prince Regent's arms, the room filled with the presence of Parliament members, Cabinet officials, and the Prime Minister. Among them strode Sir Thomas Ward, his countenance betraying annoyance as he entered the scene.

"I strictly told them to wait, Your Royal Highness, but they insisted," he told her, and she lightly shook her head.

"It's alright, Tommy," she sighed and looked at all the men in the room. "Prime Minister, my lords... Meet my son, your future King."