Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill: (Georgian Series) (34 page)

‘While his Royal Highness’s feelings have been doubtless considered on this occasion, I must take the liberty of saying, however much some may think it a subordinate consideration, that there is another person entitled in every honourable and delicate mind to the same attention. I will not otherwise attempt to describe this person except to affirm that ignorance or vulgar malice alone could have persevered in attempting to injure one on whose conduct truth could fix no just reproach and whose character claims, and is entitled to, the truest and most general respect.’

Eyebrows were raised; lips were curled in cynical smiles. What was Sheridan suggesting? Mrs Fitzherbert was the Prince’s mistress, yet at the same time she was a paragon of virtue, an example to all women?

Even the jaunty Sheridan could not hide the fact that he was embarrassed as he sat down to silence.

But when he presented himself at Carlton House the Prince embraced him.

‘My dear friend,’ he cried. ‘I knew I could rely on you. I have had a report of your speech in the house. Maria will be delighted, I know. I but waited to see you and thank you in person before I go to call on her.’

Sheridan went home in high spirits. He had made a bit of a fool of himself in the House, but that could not be helped. He
stood higher with the Prince than ever before; and that was good because Fox’s influence was waning fast.

Meanwhile the Prince was calling on Maria; and he had the discomfiture to be told that Mrs Fitzherbert was not at home.

Not at home to the Prince of Wales! It was incredible. But she had meant it when she had said that she would not live with him. A few words spoken by Sheridan would not influence her. She thought they were absurd. Did they really think that Sheridan’s getting up in the House and referring to her as a pattern of womanhood could affect her when Fox had stated on
direct authority
that she was living in sin with the Prince?

No, Maria was wounded. She had been betrayed.

The Prince was mistaken if he thought he could treat her so and be forgiven. She had made it clear in the first place that she would not live with him without marriage; and since by his action he had shown that he considered himself not married to her, she could not live with him.

Fox at Chertsey was in a mood of resignation.

‘What a mess, Liz! What a mess!’

‘You regret having denied the marriage?’ asked Lizzie.

‘It was the only thing to do. If it had come out that they had actually gone through a ceremony the Commons would be in an uproar. God knows what would have happened. The people always fancied the Stuarts more than the Guelphs, though our Prince is more popular than most of them have been. But they would never have accepted a Catholic marriage. No, it had to be said; and it was my lot to say it.’

‘Our Little George is something of a coward, is he not?’

‘You know him as well as I, Liz.’

Lizzie smiled, remembering that time when she had briefly been the Prince’s mistress and had accumulated quite a little fortune out of the adventure which was now helping to keep a home together for herself and Charles.

‘Perhaps not quite,’ she said. ‘He has a kind heart but he hates trouble. He’d help anyone out of a difficulty if he could without too much trouble, but he’d go to a great deal of trouble to protect himself.’

‘He’s no fool. He realizes what’s at stake. He knows that
what has happened was the only way to get him out of a dangerous situation.’

‘But he has, by all accounts, lost his Maria.’

‘A temporary loss. She’ll come round.’

‘She’s no ordinary woman.’

‘A paragon of virtue according to Sherry.’

‘He did very well in the circumstances.’

‘Poor Sherry. I’m glad it was his job and not mine. Yes, he did well too … considering the position. How he kept a straight face I can’t imagine.’

‘He was thinking of his own future, that was why. He has to keep the Prince’s favour … for what is he going to do without Mr Fox there to support him.’

‘Eh?’

‘Well, Mr Fox will, I prophesy, no longer be the close associate of His Royal Highness. Maria would think it rather strange, would she not, that one who had so displeased the Prince should continue to enjoy his friendship.’

‘You’re too clever, Liz.’

‘How can one be too clever? I merely state the obvious. If he wants to keep Maria he has to be displeased with Mr Fox – and you can bet even higher than your usual stakes that Mrs Fitzherbert, who never did love Mr Fox, will now regard that gentleman with loathing. And since His Royal Highness must placate Maria … well, you don’t need me to go on, do you?’

He took her hand and smiled at her.

‘No need at all,’ he said. ‘That is why I propose leaving the country. A change of scene will be very desirable.’

She tried to hide her fears and he held out his hand to her.

‘Liz,’ he said, ‘how would you like to go to Italy? We could study the art treasures of that country. I’ll show you the Sistine chapel. We’ll sit in the sun and drink their wine.’

She was smiling; intensely happy.

‘Oh, my God, Liz,’ he said. ‘You didn’t think I would go without you … anywhere?’

The Prince in Despair

THE KING WAS
pacing up and down the Queen’s drawing room. How I wish he would stay still! thought the Queen. This excitement is bad for him.

‘Although I am receiving him,’ the King was saying, ‘I shall expect deference from him. He’ll have to drop that arrogance, eh? He may be a little king in Carlton House but I’m the King here at Windsor.’

‘He’ll remember that,’ said the Queen. ‘I’m sure he has learned his lesson.’

‘What’s that, eh, what? His lesson? Do you think he’ll ever learn? But we’ll show him that if he’s going to be received back into the family he has to deserve it, eh, what?’

It was not the right attitude perhaps, thought the Queen. Oh dear, she did hope this was going to be an end to these family quarrels.

‘Mr Pitt seems to think that it is a bad thing that there should be enmity in the family.’

The King frowned at her. Charlotte should know by now that he never talked State matters with her. She was not supposed to mention the name of Mr Pitt. But there was gossip, of course. There was chatter. He was talking to her about the return of the Prince of Wales to the heart of the family simply because it was a domestic matter and these were the only matters he discussed with her.

‘I think it’s a good thing that there should be no enmity in the family. Anyone would agree to that, eh, what?’

‘But certainly. Oh, how pleased I am that he did not marry that woman. I am surprised in a way because I have heard that she is a very pleasant creature.’

A very pleasant creature, thought the King; and a very beautiful one by all accounts. They had all found beautiful women for themselves, except the King. He had Charlotte. How old she looked! Poor plain little Charlotte. Yet he had been faithful to her, in deed if not in thought, since their marriage.

Well, he was getting old now and he was glad he had been a good husband.

‘Have you warned the Princesses?’ he asked.

What a way to talk of the return of a brother! thought the Queen. Warned!

‘Yes, I have told them that they may expect a visit from their brother.’

‘Hm, and what did they say to that?’

‘They are delighted. Amelia was so excited that she bounced up and down in her chair and shot her milk all over the table.’

The King’s face creased into a smile. ‘Oh, she did then, eh, what? I must go and ask her if she is equally excited by a visit from her Papa.’

The very mention of Amelia’s name soothed the King. He doted on the child; in fact the stern rules which the others had to obey were not in force for Amelia. She could imperiously climb on to her father’s knee and ask him ridiculous questions and make him sing songs to her – and he merely obeyed her, the love shining from his eyes. She was doubly precious because they had lost Octavius and Alfred – and Sophia the next youngest was six years her senior. It was small wonder that Amelia was his pet.

He rose, the prospect of seeing his youngest daughter temporarily wiping away the anxieties he felt by the impending reunion with his eldest son.

‘She will be in the nursery now,’ said the Queen.

‘Then I will call on Her Royal Highness.’

His good humour was completely restored and when he arrived at the nursery he found his youngest daughter sitting on the floor playing with her toys and kneeling there with her was Miss Burney to whom he had heard Amelia had taken a great fancy.

‘Hello, Papa,’ said the Princess, scarcely turning her head, while Miss Burney stood up and curtsied.

‘Come, Miss Burney,’ said Amelia. ‘It is my turn. Watch. Watch.’

His Majesty is here, Ma’am,’ whispered Fanny to the little girl.

‘I know, but it is
my
turn.’

‘You cannot play while His Majesty is waiting to speak to you, Ma’am,’ said the agitated Fanny who was never quite sure how to behave in a situation which she had not visualized
happening, and about which she had not been able to consult that doyen of court behaviour, Mrs Delaney.

The little girl looked surprised. ‘Can I not?’ she asked. Then: ‘Go away, Papa. Go away.’

‘What?’ cried the King. ‘Eh, what?’

And Fanny stood by, blushing and mortified.

‘Papa, I said: Go away. We want to play. So Papa … go. Go.’

The King looked at Fanny and smiled and then picked up the child in his arms.

‘Why not a welcome for your old papa?’ he asked.

‘But it is my
turn,
’ she explained.

How beautiful, he thought. Youth! The little nose, the soft skin with just a freckle or two, the fair hair, the blue eyes of her race. This child makes everything worth while for me. Charlotte produced her … not Sarah Lennox. Sarah could not have given him a lovelier child than this one.

‘Papa,’ said Amelia sternly. ‘It is my
turn
.’

‘It is my turn to kiss my little Amelia.’

‘Then do so and be quick,’ she cried imperiously. ‘Now, Miss Burney. Take me. Come here, Miss Burney. Take me, I say. Oh, Miss Burney, come here.’

She was kicking and struggling while Fanny stood there uncertain how to act when the King put his daughter down.

He smiled at Fanny. He liked her. He was amused by her. She had had her book printed because she had thought it would look well in print, she had told him. He had always remembered that. Very fair indeed, he had said at the time. That’s being very fair and honest.

‘Well, Miss Burney,’ he said, ‘the Princess Amelia seems to approve of you, eh, what?’

‘I … yes, Your Majesty.’

‘And that,’ he said, ‘is very fair and honest, eh?’

There was great excitement in the Princesses’ apartments.

‘Just fancy,’ said the Princess Royal, ‘he is our brother and yet it’s as though we are to receive a call from visiting royalty.’

‘I wonder how he and Papa will get on,’ added Augusta. ‘I wonder if they will start quarrelling immediately or wait a while.’

‘They will have to be very polite just at first,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Mr Pitt’s orders.’

‘Is Mr Pitt so very important?’ asked Sophia.

‘Very! The most important man in the country. He’s not married, you know.’ That was the Princess Royal, who thought a great deal about marriage. She was twenty-one and most Princesses had been found a husband at that age.

‘Well,’ laughed Augusta, ‘you don’t think they’ll let you marry him even if he’s not, do you?’

‘I often think it would be helpful if we were allowed to marry commoners – our own countrymen. Then there wouldn’t be all this difficulty in finding husbands for us. It’s well-nigh impossible when they must be foreign royalty and Protestant. And there are so many of us, some of us are sure to be left out.’

‘Sometimes,’ said Elizabeth, ‘I think that Papa won’t let
any
of us marry.’

‘What do you mean?’ cried Charlotte.

‘Well, he is strange, is he not? He talks so quickly and goes on and on repeating himself. Don’t say you haven’t noticed that he seems to get worse instead of better. I think he feels strangely about
us
. He wants us to be virgins all our lives.’

‘Oh, no,’ wailed Charlotte.

‘We shall have to have secret lovers,’ said Augusta, her eyes sparkling.

‘Or be like George and marry in secret,’ said Elizabeth.

‘But George didn’t marry. That’s what all the fuss has been about. Mr Fox denied it in Parliament. They thought he had but he hadn’t all the time.’

‘It will be wonderful to
see
George. Such exciting things always happen to him. Do you remember when he was always in our apartments and sending those long letters to Mary Hamilton?’

‘At first I thought he’d come to see us.’

‘I think,’ said the Princess Charlotte enviously, ‘that it must be the most exciting thing in the world to be George.’

‘All you need to have done,’ said Augusta, ‘was to have been born four years earlier and a boy. Then you would have been the Prince of Wales. That would have suited you, Charlotte.’

Charlotte admitted that it would have suited her very well indeed.

Then they began to talk of the stories they had heard of the Prince of Wales until Charlotte, remembering the presence of Mary and Sophia, signed to them to change the subject – which would of course be taken up again with relish as soon as the younger girls were no longer with them.

There was an air of excitement at tea-time with the equerries. Everyone was aware of it – the charming Colonel Digby of whom Fanny was growing more than a little fond; pleasant and careless Colonel Manners who never paused to think what he might be saying; and Colonel Goldsworthy who was constantly gossiping. This was one of the most enjoyable hours of Fanny’s day, but only on those occasions when Madam von Schwellenburg was too tired or indisposed to take charge. At such times as this the Colonels would vie with each other to poke fun at the disagreeable old woman which, decided Fanny, she fully deserved, and as she was quite unaware of their suppressed amusement – there was no harm done.