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‘Well, I am explaining, George, that after marriage to my Duchess any

woman seems desirable.’

‘Even Caroline of Brunswick?’

‘I did not say that. I thought her a pleasant creature. A little short in the legs perhaps and I fancy she does not carry herself as gracefully as she might— but

then she was young and a bit of a hoyden. Doubtless she has grown out of that.

She has an abundance of fair hair and fine eyes, I believe.’

The Prince was obviously relieved.

‘So, George,’ went on his brother, ‘you will do well enough.’

‘I heartily wish this marriage need never take place.’

The brothers regarded each other sadly.

The proposed marriage was drawing them closer together than they had been

for some time. In the days of their boyhood they had been inseparable. They had

stood by each other and shared adventures and punishments. Frederick had

patiently kept guard during the Prince’s assignations with Mrs. Robinson; many a

time he had incurred his father’s anger in order to protect his brother; and the

bond had been strong between them. The main reason why they had resented

Frederick’s being sent abroad was because it meant they must be parted; and

when he had come back, they had resumed their friendship as though it had never

been broken.

The Prince had introduced his brother to Maria Fitzherbert whom he was then

treating as the Princess of Wales and Frederick had been charmed by the lady.

She had become fond of him too although she did deplore the wild horseplay in

which he indulged with the Prince, and she blamed Frederick for this because on

his return the Prince had reverted to the practical joking and wild ways in which he had indulged before his association with her. But a rift had come through that wife of Frederick’s— that German Princess Frederica Charlotte Ulrica— who

although she filled her house with different breeds of dogs, although she was

indifferent to their fleas and habits, was a very haughty personage and determined to uphold her position as Duchess of York. She had therefore refused to accept

Maria Fitzherbert’s right to any rank but that of mistress of the Prince of Wales—

a fact which had humiliated Maria and, infuriated the Prince; and as he was at that time deeply in love with Maria, he had pettishly blamed Frederick for not having

more control over his wife.

Frederick had considered this unfair, for he himself had always shown the

greatest respect towards Maria— but the rift between the brothers widened; and it was an indication of the depth of the Prince’s feelings for Mrs. Fitzherbert that on her account the lifelong friendship with his brother could be impaired.

But now, Frederick no longer lived with his wife— and no one blamed him—

and the friendship between the brothers was resumed, although it was clear to

them both that it would never be quite the same again.

‘Cheer up, George,’ said the Duke. ‘Lady Jersey will comfort you.’

‘That’s true,’ replied the Prince dubiously. His affairs were indeed in a tangle.

Lady Jersey— that dainty, gadfly of a woman who while she fascinated him at the

same time repelled him— was his consolation for this marriage with the German

woman— and the loss of Maria.

Ah, Maria. He could never quite succeed in banishing her from his thoughts.

Sometimes he wondered whether he ever would.

He thought now that if instead of marriage with this stranger he was going

back to Maria how delighted he would have been. But that could not be; and

another horrible thought had struck him: What was Maria, who considered herself

married to him, going to say when she heard he contemplated marrying another

woman?

He sat down on a gilded couch and, covering his face with his hands, wept.

Frederick was not unduly disturbed; like all the Prince’s associates he was

accustomed to his tears. The Prince had always wept most effectively— and in

fact, thought Frederick cynically, it was quite a family accomplishment.
We

Guelphs are a weeping family
, he mused—
but none of us can perform so
artistically as the Prince of Wales.

The Prince applied the scented kerchief to his eyes which like his complexion

had not suffered from the display of emotion.

‘Fred,’ he said, ‘the truth is I shall never love another woman as I love

Fitzherbert.’

‘Still, George?’

‘Still and forever,’ cried the Prince vehemently. ‘And yet—’

‘It’s money, Fred. How am I going to pay these damned debts without it? And

the price— marriage with a German
Frau
.’

Frederick nodded grimly. ‘The price of royalty, George.’

‘Why do we accept it? What would I not give for my freedom.’

Well,
considered Frederick, suppose he had resigned his rights
. Suppose he
had made a public announcement of his marriage to Fitzherbert instead of

allowing Fox to make a public denial of it in the House of Commons? Could it

have been different?
He would not have been wearing that magnificent diamond star, the insignia of his rank of course; he would not have been living in this

splendid residence— this grand Carlton House with its scintillating chandeliers,

its gilt furniture, its exquisite porcelain, its priceless pictures.

George should consider all that, for there was nothing he enjoyed as much as

taking a derelict house and transforming it into a palace. Look what he had done

at his Pavilion in Brighton. And here in Carlton House the state apartments were

far more grand than anything in gloomy old St. James’s, tumbledown Windsor

and homely Kew. Even Buckingham House suffered in comparison. Trust George

to see to that.

Consider the Chinese parlour, the blue velvet closet and crimson drawing

room, the silver dining room and most magnificent of all, the throne room with its gilded columns displaying the Prince of Wales’s feathers. Even what he called his own intimate apartments— these facing the park— were fit for a king as well as a

Prince of Wales. No, George was too fond of his royalty to give it up even for

Fitzherbert.

George was above all self-indulgent; his emotions were superficial and even

the affection he bore for the incomparable Fitzherbert had not prevented his

deserting her for the momentarily more alluring Lady Jersey. He was not the man

to resign his hopes of the crown for the sake of a woman. Imagine George,

wandering about the Continent in exile an impecunious prince whose debts would

never then be settled by an understanding if somewhat tutorial Parliament; and

how could George live but in the most extravagant manner? He was born to

elegance; he was a natural spend-thrift; he could never understand the value of

money. He was only aware that he wished to surround himself with beautiful

things and that as Prince of Wales and future King of England he had a natural

right to them.

And who was Frederick to criticize his brother? Had he not been forced into

marriage for the very same reason?

So now he sought to comfort George by embellishing his picture of Caroline.

She was really quite charming, and bright and intelligent, he thought. To tell

the truth he might have decided to marry her himself, but she wouldn’t have him.

Of course he was not the Prince of Wales. He remembered particularly her

beautiful hair. It was very light and abundant. The Prince was very fond of

beautiful hair, was he not?

The Prince nodded and thought of Maria’s abundant honey-coloured curls.

She had never powdered it although it was the fashion to do so; but had worn it

naturally. But then of course few women had hair to compare with Maria’s.

The fact was in all ways no woman could compare with Maria.

He would always think of her as his wife.

Oh, damn these debts. Damn cruel necessity which snatched Maria from him

and gave him in her place a German
Frau
. Yet it was Lady Jersey who had driven him from Maria.

But it was not serious,
he told himself.
I never meant it seriously. It was
Maria who had taken it so.

But the Duke of York had comforted him considerably.

His betrothed was not a monster, it seemed; she was not hideous like poor

Fred’s wife; she was not marked by the pox like that arrogant creature; and she

would not bring an army of animals to perform their disgusting functions on the

gilded couches of Carlton House.

Frederick, seeing that his mission had been accomplished and that he had

succeeded in bringing some relief to his brother, took his departure.

————————

The Prince sought further comfort from Lady Jersey, but he did not find it.

How different, he was thinking, it would have been with Maria.

Frances was beautiful, there was no doubt of that. She was small, slim almost

to girlishness and he was fond of fleshy women; but she was widely experienced

for she was nine years older than he was and in that respect she resembled the

type he favoured. Maria was six years older; he always found women older than

himself so comforting. Not that there was much comfort in Frances, though she

was exciting; and he was just a little afraid of her. The softness of Maria was

lacking; so was the deep affection Maria had always had for him. But he had said

goodbye to Maria and was now devoting himself to Frances.

Frances was a sensual woman; physically she excited him; she always made

him feel uncertain; that was her
forte
. He always believed that she could provide greater satisfaction than any woman ever had before; and her strength was that

while she did not, the promise of future eroticism remained.

That was what had attracted him and lured him from comfortable, deeply

loving almost motherly Maria. And even as his heart called out for Maria he could not go and beg her to return to him because Frances Jersey stood there between

them mocking, sensually alluring and, he feared, irresistible.

She did not try to placate him as so many women did. Now she said to him: ‘I

cannot understand why you are so glum. You have nothing to lose by the

marriage— and everything to gain.’

‘You are forgetting what marriage may entail.’

Frances laughed aloud. ‘Dearest Highness, I have a husband, as you know. A

very complacent husband at this time who is always eager to serve his Prince so

we need not concern ourselves with him. I have had two sons and seven

daughters. I am even a grandmother. I confess I am a very young grandmother.

But you cannot say that a life so worthily spent in replenishing the earth could

possibly be without experience of what marriage entails.’

‘But I am to marry a German woman— I confess I don’t like the Germans.’

‘I obviously cannot share your Highness’s aversion, for someone for whom I

entertain the most tender passions has descended from that race.’

‘Germans!’ went on the Prince. ‘My father married one. And consider her.’

‘I have always found Her Majesty most gracious.’

Frances chuckled inwardly. How amusing

Prim and proper Charlotte

actually approved of her son’s relationship with his mistress.

In fact Frances

had received instructions from Lady Harcourt. She was to lure the Prince from

Fitzherbert, for only then would he consider marriage— and was high time he

was married, he had to provide that heir to the throne, for his brothers were

proving themselves strangely backward in doing so.

The Duke of York, estranged from his Duchess, was clearly not going to be of

any use. William, Duke of Clarence, the next son, had set up house most

respectably— at least as respectably as such arrangements could be— with that

enchanting actress Dorothy Jordan but naturally there was nothing to hope from

there. Another brother Augustus Frederick, Duke of Sussex, had just emerged

from a big scandal, for he had married secretly in defiance of the Marriage Act

which decreed that no member of the royal family could marry without the

consent of the King until he reached the age of twenty-five (Augustus Frederick

had been twenty), and the marriage had been null and void even though the lady

in his adventures was about to give

birth and was of noble lineage, being the

daughter of the Earl of Dunmore and claiming royal blood from her ancestors.

No, there was no hope from his brothers so clearly it was the duty of the Prince of Wales to provide heirs to the throne.

The Queen had known this could not be done while the Prince adhered to

Mrs. Fitzherbert; so the relationship had to be broken. Since Frances had a good

chance of doing that, the Queen gave her approval to Frances’ activities.

Which showed, thought Frances cynically, how morals could be cast aside for

the sake of the State— even by the most virtuous of ladies.

But Madam Charlotte would be very angry with her dear little spy Frances

Jersey did she but know how Frances had persuaded him to take this Brunswick

woman rather than the Queen’s own candidate from Mecklenburg-Strehtz. For the

Queen had a niece from her native land, and how she would have liked to see that

young woman Princess of Wales!

Alas, she was charming; she was exceedingly pretty; and she was intelligent,

so Frances had heard; and if Frances was going to retain her power over the

Prince— which she had every intention of doing— she naturally did not wish him