Perdita's Prince: (Georgian Series) (41 page)

‘Your Highness … forgiveness again … but this will not solve our problems. We have on one side this frail lady who is – let us be fair – in a desperate position. I do not believe she would wish to sell those letters if this were not the case. I feel she would prefer to keep them tied up with ribbons to read to her grandchildren in the years to come and so recall those days of romance and passion. But she is in debt. She lives in terror of the debtors’ prison of which she has had a taste. Let us see Mrs Robinson as she is. It will help us. A blackmailer? Well, perhaps. But she is in a corner and she has to fight her way out.’

‘Well, Charles, you make a good advocate for the woman. I thought you were on my side.’

‘On your side in the past, now and for ever. But my plan is to settle this matter as speedily as possible. To have those letters where they belong – and that is consigned to the flames … before they have done irreparable damage.’

‘What damage could they do?’

‘They could hold you up to ridicule, they could place a strong weapon in the hands of your enemies; they could rob you of the popularity you now have and which is so important to you and our plans. Your Uncle Cumberland is an instance. He is not greatly loved by the people. They have heard passages from those letters he wrote to Lady Grosvenor and they will never forget them. Moreover, there is your father to face. He is after all the King. What have you said of him in those letters? You cannot even remember, but in this one you have been damaging enough. Even those with whom he is not popular recognize him as the King. This criticism of him, to a light woman … I know of
course how deep your feelings towards Mrs Robinson were when you wrote those words and that you did not see her in this way, but that is how she will be looked upon … will be frowned on, not only by his friends but yours. Discretion is the first quality men look for in a leader and, my Prince, you are soon to be our leader. I know you understand.’

‘Yes,’ said the Prince heavily. ‘I understand that I have been a fool.’

‘Well, so are we all in our times. And Your Highness could turn this affair into valuable experience. But first we have to deal with this situation. We have to buy these letters from Mrs Robinson. We have to see that they and the bond are safe in our hands.’

‘Do you mean pay her twenty thousand pounds
and
buy the letters?’

‘I think she can be persuaded to hand over the bond; but the letters are what concern me. Any young man in love might give a woman a bond he finds it difficult to honour; but the letters are our concern.’

‘Charles, I know you are right. But I cannot raise the money. You know how short my father keeps me. It is easy enough to run up debts. People are only too glad to serve me. But I cannot raise this money.’

‘I have thought of this. There is only one thing to do.’

‘Yes, Charles, yes?’

‘You must go to the King, confess your folly and ask him to buy the letters.’

‘What! It’s the last thing I could do.’

‘Maybe, sir, but as I see it it’s the only thing you can do.’

‘I never will.’

Fox shook his head sadly and said: ‘Then, Your Highness, I must leave you to settle this matter your own way.’

‘Charles … how can I? You
must
help me.’

‘Everything I have is at Your Highness’s service. Unfortunately I have no money or it should be yours. I am in the same position as Your Highness. I can run up debts but raise no cash. I have nothing to offer you but my advice.’

‘Which is the best in the world, I know.’

‘It is disinterested, that much I can tell you. I have thought of
this problem as though it were my own – and indeed it is my own, for apart from my affection and friendship for Your Highness my future plans are concerned in it. I dream of that day when Your Highness takes his place in the affairs of the nation and I want nothing to spoil that. But I can see only one way out. These letters must be bought back from Mrs Robinson and the only way this money can be raised is through the King. Your Uncle Cumberland was in a similar position. I pray this affair will not be so public. Nor need it be if we act with care and speed. But there is no time to lose. Let Mrs Robinson go to a lawyer … and she is desperate … and we are lost. We have to find that money quickly and settle this matter once and for all.’

‘Charles, you must help me.’

‘I am asking Your Highness to place this matter in my hands; but if I am to be your adviser you must perforce follow my advice.’

‘To go to my father …’

‘To confess the whole affair, your folly, the realization of what you have done, your growing responsibility to your position. The King is not an ogre.’

‘You don’t know him as I do.’

‘He is a sentimental man … and I’ll swear at heart he is fond of you. Be tactful. He must supply the money. It is important to him that there should be no more family scandals. Do as I say and in a short while when this unfortunate matter is over you will see that it was the only way in which you could have acted.’

‘And Charles … you will be my ambassador with Perdita?’

‘I will. And I’ll swear that if you will face up to this interview, painful as I know it is going to be, you will very soon be able to put this matter behind you – and little harm will have been done.’

‘Charles, I rely on you.’

‘In which,’ said Mr Fox with a bow, ‘Your Highness shows your wisdom.’

*

The Prince humbly requested an audience with his father, which the King willingly granted. The terms in which the request was written pleased him. His son showed a proper – and unusual – respect.

He’s growing up, thought the King. He was wayward at first … but so are most young men.

He was in a mellow mood as he greeted the Prince who, he noticed, had what might be called a hangdog expression.

‘You have something to say to me, eh?’

‘Yes, Father, and I am going to ask Your Majesty’s indulgence for the follies of youth.’

‘What’s this, eh, what?’ The King shot a suspicious glance at his son. Such humility was a little disturbing. ‘Go on, go on,’ he commanded. ‘What are these follies, eh?’

‘I have to confess that I have formed an … an association with an actress.’

‘I know. I know.’

‘A Mrs Robinson who played at Drury Lane with Sheridan’s company.’

‘Can’t abide the fellow,’ said the King. ‘Drinks, gambles … leads that nice woman a life. Pity she married him. He’s not faithful to her. Rackets about the town. Don’t like the fellow. Friend of Fox.’

The Prince saw it was a mistake to have mentioned Sheridan.

‘Well, Father, this woman is no longer … my friend.’

‘Come to your senses, eh? Perhaps time you were married. Bit young. I was young myself … but perhaps it’s best.’

The interview was going badly. The outcome might be that his father would discover some plump German princess for him. That he would stand out against with all his strength. If his father would wait until he was twenty-one he would have some say in the matter … but if he should produce the woman now … But he was straying from the unpleasant point and the sooner this was reached the better.

‘I wrote her letters … foolish letters.’

The effect on the King of that word letters was great. His mouth slightly open, he stared at his son.

‘It was foolish,’ admitted the Prince. ‘I know that now. I’ve learned my lesson.’

‘Letters?’ breathed the King. ‘It’s like that fool Cumberland all over again. What possessed you, eh? Letters! Don’t you know better than that, eh, what?’

‘I do now,’ said the Prince.

‘Letters,’ murmured the King. He looked at his son and thought of the folly of youth; and Hannah Lightfoot’s image rose up before him. Remember your own youth, George. Were you so wise? ‘Not letters,’ he mumbled.

‘Yes, Father, I fear so. She has them and she is threatening to publish them.’

The King closed his eyes.

‘There is only one thing to do. We must buy those letters from her.’

‘This woman … she has a husband?’ The King could not get the thought of Lord Grosvenor out of his mind.

‘Yes … a low fellow … a clerk of some sort.’

‘Shocking! Disgusting! You realize that, eh, what?’

‘I realize it fully but I know something has to be done.’

‘What sort of letters, eh? Love letters? That sort?’

‘That sort,’ admitted the Prince; ‘and I fear that I was a little indiscreet about … family matters.’

‘Family matters! You mean you discussed your family … the royal family … with this … this … woman. Eh! What?’

‘I fear so.’

‘And she wrote you letters?’

‘Yes.’

‘And where are they?’

‘I destroyed them.’

‘So you destroyed hers and she kept yours, eh?’

‘It seems so.’

‘It seems so! How do you know she has these letters?’

‘I have been shown one … and that itself is enough to … er …’

‘I know, I know. Letters!’

‘I gave her a bond.’

‘What?’

‘A bond for twenty thousand pounds.’

‘You are mad.’

‘I fear I was at the time, sir. But the stipulation was that I could not honour it until I was twenty-one.’

‘I doubt it’s valid. And you’ve another two years to go. I trust you learn a little sense by then.’

‘I trust so, sir.’

‘Letters,’ mused the King. ‘Damning, humiliating letters! What have I done to be cursed with a family like this?’

‘We are not so bad, sir,’ said the Prince soothingly. ‘It is only when compared with Your Majesty’s high code of morals and blameless existence that we appear so.’

The King looked sharply at his son. The young dog was too free with words – always had been. One never could be sure what he was driving at.

‘Go away,’ he said. ‘I’ll think of this.’

‘Sir, we must get those letters.’

‘Do you think I don’t understand the trouble this sort of folly can bring to the family?’

‘I did not think that for one moment, sir, that was why I plucked up my courage to bring the matter to your attention.’

‘You’d do better to consult me more often.’

‘I know that now, sir.’

‘Then go and I will consider this in due course. But I’d have you know that I am preoccupied with weighty matters of State which one day perhaps you will know something about. And you have to disturb me with your follies. I tell you this, sir, I am displeased. I am disgusted and this sort of thing will have to stop. You understand that, eh, what?’

‘I understand it well, sir; I admit my folly. We all have to learn by the mistakes of youth, sir.’

For one moment the King could almost have believed that this son of his, who knew so much, was aware of that period of his father’s life which all this time the King had been striving to forget.

It was on occasions like this that one remembered and the past came up to mock. It had the effect though of making a man more lenient than he might have been.

He said in a milder tone: ‘If it’s taught you a valuable lesson then perhaps it is not such a disaster as it appears. Go now. You will hear more of this from me.’

The Prince knelt and kissed his father’s hand. There were tears
of real gratitude in his eyes – but tears came easily to the whole family. Yet, this had changed the young dog. He was worried, and there was no doubt that it had brought him to heel.

*

Charles James Fox was a constant visitor to Cork Street. Perdita had also received a visit from Lieutenant-Colonel Hotham who had told her that he came on the King’s business.

Perdita was thrown into a state of great anxiety by the visit of this gentleman who pointed out to her that in attempting to blackmail the Prince she was placing herself in a very dangerous position. The Prince had confessed to the King the fact that he had written indiscreet letters to her and the King was most distressed, first that his son should have written the letters and secondly that he should have so far forgotten the dignity due to his position as to become involved with a woman who could offer to treat them as merchandise.

So terrified had Perdita been that she had almost agreed to hand over the letters; but the thought of her debts and her interview with Mr Fox sustained her; and she had told the Lieutenant-Colonel that she could do nothing without consulting her friends.

Thank God for Mr Fox!

He listened gravely to all that Hotham had said and had told her that she must act with the utmost caution and not allow herself to be bullied. He would tell her exactly what she must do.

She was very ready to lean on him. He was so clever. She had never known such a clever person. Of course his appearance was a little repulsive – particularly if one were as fastidious as Perdita undoubtedly was – but even that was a little piquant. On each visit he became a little more familiar; and she could see, of course, to what he was leading. No, she told herself. Never. Yet what would she do without him? He only had to appear and she could forget those hideous bills. Moreover, it was known that Mr Fox was visiting her and this meant that the tradespeople were not so insolent. They were holding off a little. Mr Fox was making some arrangements for her, therefore they would be patient for a little longer.

Mr Fox persuaded the Prince of Wales to allow her to remain in the house in Cork Street until some other arrangement could
be made. That was a great comfort.

And now there was this terrifying man, Hotham, who wanted to know the extent of her debts and how many of the letters there were and to see some of them (but not to let them out of the house, said Mr Fox) and with whom she could never have bargained, if Mr Fox had not been in the background telling her exactly what to do.

There came a day when Hotham arrived, stern and disapproving and not even glancing at her as though she were some ordinary woman and not one of the most beautiful in London.

‘I have an ultimatum from His Majesty, Mrs Robinson,’ he told her. ‘You will be paid five thousand pounds and on accepting this you will hand to me the bond given to you by His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales in addition to the letters he wrote to you and this will be an end to the matter.’