Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill: (Georgian Series) (33 page)

It was Fox who had done this. She had always known he was an enemy. How wrong of her to blame the Prince for Fox’s misdeeds.

She kissed his cheek lightly.

It was enough. He flung his arms about her.

‘Now I am happy,’ he said.

But it was only a respite. The next day she had a full report of Fox’s speech. ‘On direct authority,’ Fox had said. That could mean only one thing. Fox would never have dared stand up in the House of Commons and declare he had direct authority to deny the Prince’s marriage if that authority had not come from the Prince himself.

When the Prince called on her he was surprised by the change in her and he knew it was not going to be so easy to explain this to Maria.

‘So it is true,’ she said. ‘You have conspired with your friends to betray me.’

‘I can explain …’

‘There is nothing you can say which will explain it.’

‘Maria, it makes no difference to us.’

‘It makes every difference to us. I think you had better leave me now. I do not wish to see you again.’

‘You don’t mean that.’

She was fierce suddenly. ‘I certainly mean it. Do you think I wish to live with a man who denies his marriage to me? If you
are ashamed of it – that is an end to it. Go back to Mr Fox. Drink with him on the success of your plan. I have my marriage certificate. What if I sent that to Mr Pitt? But you need have no fear, I gave my word that as far as I was concerned it should remain a secret. I keep my word. And now, I wish to be alone.’

The Prince stared at her, dumbfounded. ‘Maria, what has happened? I have never seen you like this before.’

‘You know full well what has happened. And I have never before been betrayed in this way. Did you hear me? I no longer wish you to remain here.’

‘Now, Maria, please … I can explain.’

‘I daresay you can think up further lies. You are very skilled in that.’

‘Oh, that you could speak to me like this!’

‘I have told you I have no wish to speak to you at all. I have finished with speaking to you.’

‘
You
can say this to
me
… who would do anything in the world to please you?’

‘The only way in which you could please is by leaving me … this moment.’

‘Oh, my fierce Maria!’

She threw him off impatiently. The charm, the tears, the protestations of undying affection – they were no good now. She did not believe in them any more.

‘Maria, I will do anything in the world for you …’

‘Except acknowledge me as your wife?’

‘Fox made that declaration in the House … because … because he had to. It was Pitt who was making trouble. Don’t you see … if they had admitted to the marriage, on account of your religion there would have been trouble … about the succession, Maria.’

‘That was an aspect I pointed out to you
before
our wedding.’

‘This was in the House of Commons.’

‘Of course it was the House of Commons. Where else would such an issue be brought up? You knew it when you married me and now you pretend to be surprised. I want to hear no more. Go … I will not listen.’

‘You
shall
listen, Maria. Very soon I may be King and
my first action will be to abolish the Marriage Act. I will make you a Duchess. We will have another ceremony, and then …’

‘You talk like a child or a fool. Do you think a Catholic Queen would be more acceptable than a Catholic Princess of Wales? But that is not the point. You have denied our marriage. This is an outrage to my honour and to my religion. I have nothing more to say, except that I shall do nothing to betray your perfidy. Your secret is safe with me. But I do not wish to see you again.’

‘Maria,’ he cried piteously, but she had gone.

The Prince went back to Carlton House and summoned several of his friends, among them Sheridan, Grey, Sir Philip Francis and Lord Stourton.

When they arrived they found him pacing up and down in a distraught manner.

‘It’s Maria,’ he cried. ‘I have never seen her like this before. She is like a tigress. She has said she won’t see me again. What am I going to do?’

Sheridan said: ‘It will pass. In a few days she will be ready to be friends again.’

The Prince shook his head. ‘I know Maria. She is determined. She has these damned principles. I know she means what she says.’

‘She is devoted to Your Highness. She will never refuse to see you.’

‘I know Maria,’ said the Prince blankly. ‘You remember how she left England … and stayed away for a year? Oh, my God, what if she goes away again. What am I going to do? Some of you must see her.
Explain
…’

‘Explain what, Your Highness?’ asked Grey. ‘The only explanation she will accept is your repudiation of Fox’s statement. Your Highness will see that that is impossible.’

‘I did not give him authority …’ cried the Prince.

Grey was a man who spoke his mind. He said: ‘Fox had a letter from Your Highness four days before the marriage was alleged to have taken place. That is his defence for speaking as he did.’

‘A letter …’ said the Prince, his dismay apparent. He
remembered now. He frowned at Grey. That man had always been too frank for him. Not like Sherry, who always said the pleasant thing whatever he was thinking.

‘Your Highness had to make the choice,’ said Grey bluntly. ‘Acknowledging your marriage or facing the threat of losing the Crown. Fox chose the only course.’

‘I did not direct him to do so. That’s what Maria must be made to understand. One of you must explain to her. You, Francis … You go … You go now … Now, this minute … and come straight back here.’

Sir Philip Frances looked uneasy but could not very well disobey the Prince’s command.

He went, and during his absence the Prince and his friends discussed the affair; the Prince, seeking loopholes, by which he could persist in keeping quiet about his marriage and so keep his chances of the succession, storming and weeping, telling his friends how he could not live without Maria and that something would have to be done.

They listened with apparent sympathy, but there was not one of them who did not know that to own publicly to the marriage would be fatal to the Prince and the Whigs – however much that party had attempted to dissociate itself from the affair.

The Prince must see reason; he must get over this mad infatuation for a religious woman; or she must cast aside her principles and allow herself to be accepted as his mistress.

In due course Sir Philip Francis returned to Carlton House.

‘Well, Francis, well?’ cried the Prince.

‘She is furious. She says she has no wish to see Your Highness ever again.’

The Prince wailed and threw himself on to the couch, covering his face with his hands.

‘She said that Fox has rolled her in the kennel like a street walker and that he has lied. Every word he had said was a lie.’

‘She
believes
every word Fox said was a lie,’ said the Prince hopefully.

‘Even so,’ Grey pointed out, ‘Your Highness would have to make a public declaration that this was so to satisfy her.’

Trust Grey to dash all hopes to the ground.

‘What am I going to do? I must do something. Sherry, what can I do?’

Sheridan said soothingly: ‘I doubt not in time it will blow over. She will forget it. She will realize that this is the only way …’

The Prince was looking trustingly at Sheridan.

Then he said: ‘If it was brought up in the House again. If it could be
modified
…’

Lord Stourton said that he did not see how it could be modified. It was a statement which unfortunately could only have one answer: Yes or No.

‘There must be some way. Touch on the marriage lightly … and make sure that Maria is spoken of with respect. Charles went too far. There was no need for him to go so far. Gray, you could explain it to the House.’

‘Your Highness, it would be an impossibility.’

The Prince’s eyes were angry. Grey frustrated him at every turn. ‘It seems you are determined to make difficulties,’ he said coldly.

‘Your Highness, the difficulties are already made.’

‘You could do it. You could modify …’

‘Modify,’ cried Grey. ‘Will Your Highness explain what you mean by modify? I fear I cannot see how this could be done.’

‘But you will
think
of something.’

‘I regret Your Highness that I cannot do so and I think it a grave mistake to bring this matter up in the House again.’

‘You seem determined not to help, Grey,’ said the Prince coldly.

He turned to Sheridan who, during the altercation between Grey and the Prince, seemed to have been trying to shrink further into his chair.

‘You’ll do it, Sherry?’

Oh, God, thought Sheridan. What am I let in for now?

‘Your Highness, let us consider the matter.’

The Prince brightened. ‘Dear Sherry, I knew I could rely on you.’ A snub to Grey, but Grey was not a man to fawn on princes. Not like poor old Sherry, thought Sheridan, who has come up in the world, from theatre manager to Prince’s crony on Irish blarney and an ability to juggle with words. He had to think quickly now: Face the House on this matter which was
already concluded or lose the friendship of the Prince of Wales, who would one day be King. Grey had already chosen. Well, Grey was a man of background and political ambitions; Grey could doubtless afford to throw away the friendship of the Prince. Sheridan could not. He was a born gambler in any case. He would back the Prince.

‘I will do what I can,’ he promised.

‘Dearest Sherry!’

‘But I think Your Highness will agree with me that the matter should not be brought up until
after
Fox has secured the payment of your debts.’

The Prince reluctantly agreed to this. He knew his dear friend Sherry was right; and no one had such a way with words as he had.

When Sherry had spoken in the House, Maria would feel happier. She would see him again. She would give him a chance to explain. All would be well between them. They would go down to Brighton together; and if his debts were paid he would give her a fine house of her own; he would make some alterations to the Marine Pavilion.

It would be wonderful to live like a Prince again … with Maria.

Mr Pitt called on the King.

‘Your Majesty will share my relief,’ said the Prime Minister, ‘that this unfortunate matter of His Royal Highness’s affairs has come to an end. He has, through Mr Charles James Fox, given us a complete denial of the marriage with Mrs Fitzherbert. Therefore he has not, as we feared, acted in defiance of Your Majesty’s own Royal Marriage Act.’

‘It is a relief, eh?’ replied the King. ‘I feared he might have married the woman. He’s capable of it, Mr Pitt. Quite capable.’

‘I feared so, too,’ said Pitt. ‘And now this matter of his debts. They amount to £161,000 which I propose shall be paid by Parliament; and £60,000 shall be set aside for His Highness’s expenses at Carlton House. If Your Majesty is agreeable to this, I feel the time has come to raise His Highness’s income and suggest an additional £10,000 a year.’

The King said he thought this was very generous and the young rip ought to be satisfied with that.

‘There is another matter which I wished to discuss with Your Majesty,’ went on Mr Pitt, ‘and that is the discord which exists between Your Majesty and His Highness. This is undesirable and it seems that now is a good moment to change it. It has been publicly stated that the Prince, contrary to rumour, has not defied Your Majesty’s Marriage Act. You have sanctioned the payments of his debts and increased his income. There is therefore no reason for discord in the family. There should be a reunion – a making-up of differences. This, I think, Sir, is very important and the moment is ripe for it.’

The King looked proudly at his Mr Pitt, and silently thanked God for him. Momentarily he compared him with dear old North – good friend, but what a blunderer! – and what the King felt he needed more and more as the weeks passed was a good steady prop. Mr Pitt enabled him to get away to Kew and Windsor. Mr Pitt was fast becoming a power in the land. Mr Pitt kept the Fox at bay. Good Mr Pitt!

‘You are right I am sure, Mr Pitt. There shall be a family reunion. The Prince shall come to Windsor and I will make such that the family receive him with friendship.’

Mr Pitt bowed and took his leave.

Parliament had agreed to settle the Prince’s debts and Alderman Newnham rose to say that he was happy that the motion he had been proposing to bring forward – that of the Prince’s debts – was now no longer necessary.

Members of the House expressed their satisfaction.

‘I readily concur in the joy the honourable gentleman has expressed,’ said Mr Pitt.

‘We must all feel the highest satisfaction,’ added Mr Fox.

Mr Rolle, however, while commenting on his satisfaction, added: ‘But I temper that satisfaction by making it clear that if it should hereafter appear that any concession has been made, humiliating to the country or dishonourable in itself, I would be the first man to stand up and stigmatize it as it deserves.’

There were groans through the House. Why could not the blunt old countryman leave the matter alone.

Mr Pitt, however, suavely rose to assure the honourable member that this was not so and he need have no fears.

Sheridan knew that this was his only opportunity. He must
speak before the matter was closed. How much better, he thought, to let it alone. But he dared not. He must speak. His friendship with the Prince was at stake.

He stood up. He was aware of Fox watching him warily. Fox would know exactly why he was doing this.

‘I cannot believe,’ began Sheridan, ‘that there exists on this day but one feeling and one sentiment in the House, that of heartfelt satisfaction at the auspicious conclusion to which the business has been brought. His Royal Highness wishes it to be known that he feels perfect satisfaction at the prospect before him and he also desires it to be distinctly remembered that no attempt has at any time been made to screen any part of his conduct, actions or situation …’

The members were looking askance at Sheridan. This had all been said before. Why repeat it? Sheridan himself hurried on to the purpose of his speech.