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The connection no longer exists but I feel certain obligations towards the lady.’

The King grunted but the Prince hurried on, ‘During this connection the lady

received three thousand pounds a year, which I intend to continue although my

connection with the lady is completely severed. But I should like Your Majesty’s

assurance that in the event of my death before that of the lady this pension should be continued.’

The King interrupted him. ‘I know

I know—’ Then he softened. ‘This

lady is Maria Fitzherbert, a comely widow.’ The King’s mouth slackened a little,

he was looking back over the years before he had been ill; he was thinking of all the temptations which had come his way and how he had resisted them. They

would be surprised, these people who surrounded him, if they knew that in his

way he was as fond of women as his sons were proving themselves to be.

Sarah Lennox making hay in Holland House. What a little beauty she had

been! And he would have married her. He certainly had it in his mind to do so.

And before her there had been Hannah Lightfoot, the beautiful Quaker girl. He

had better not think of her. But he had done what he had thought right and

married plain homely Princess Charlotte and tried to put other women out of his

mind.

Elizabeth Pembroke— what a beauty! There was a woman he could love. She

was at the Court and he had to see her every day and he had to remind himself

that he was married to Charlotte and that it his duty to set an example. Duty.

Always duty.

Plain Charlotte instead of beautiful Sarah Lennox. Fifteen children and not an

illegitimate one among them. There had been Hannah of course but that was

before that was all in the past. Since his marriage he had been a faithful husband

— except in thought, of course. But how could a man help his thoughts?

And because of his own feelings, he could understand the Prince’s. This

Maria Fitzherbert was a good woman by all accounts. Pity she had not been a

Protestant German Princess instead of a Catholic English widow. He believed she

would have had a good influence on the Prince. In fact he knew she had had this

because she urged him to live less extravagantly, to gamble less, to drink less, to give up his more disreputable friends.

Oh yes, this Maria Fitzherbert was entitled to a little consideration. And he,

from remembering certain incidents his own past, would be the first to

admit it.

‘Your— your sentiments do you credit,’ said the King. ‘I think this lady has a

right— to such consideration. I believe she has always behaved in a— a very

admirable manner, eh, what?’

‘It’s true— true!’ declared the Prince fervently.

The King nodded. ‘Then we will settle this matter. But it had better come

through Loughborough. The Lord Chancellor is the man who should deal with it.

Tell him to bring the matter to my notice. Have no fear. I find these sentiments do you credit.’

‘I thank Your Majesty with all my heart.’

The King laid his hand on his son’s shoulder and his eyes filled with tears.

There were tears in the Prince’s also.

How pleasant— how unusual— for them to be friends.
He’s changed,
thought the King.
He’s settling down at the prospect of marriage More amenable. More

reasonable. We shall get on now.

The Prince was thinking:
His madness has changed him. Made him mellow—

reasonable. Perhaps we can be more friendly now.

————————

Within a few days the Prince received a letter from Lord Loughborough in

which the Lord Chancellor wrote that he had presented the Prince’s problem to

the King concerning the provision he had thought proper to make to a lady who

had been distinguished

in by his regard, and asking that in the unfortunate event

of his death His Majesty would see that it was provided. His Majesty wished to

convey that His Highness need have no anxiety on this account.

The Prince was delighted.

He wanted Maria to know that he had not in fact deserted her. He waited her

to know that although he could not see her she was in his thoughts.

He could not write to her because he had given his word that he had broken

off all connection with her. But he did want her to see that letter.

He had an idea. He would send it to his old friend Miss Pigot, who would

certainly show it to Maria. He sat down at his desk immediately and dashed off a

letter.

————————

Miss Pigot could not curb her excitement when she saw that handwriting on

the envelope. And addressed to her! It could only mean one thing. He wanted her

to make the peace between himself and Maria.

She opened the envelope and the Lord Chancellor’s letter slipped to the floor.

She picked it up, looked at it in astonishment, and then turned to the Prince’s.

He did not wish his dear friend Miss Pigot to think he had forgotten her. His

thoughts were often at Marble Hill; and he sent her the enclosed letter so that she should show it to one whom it concerned which would in some measure explain

the regard he had for that person.

Miss Pigot re-read the Chancellor’s letter, grasped its meaning, and rushed to

Maria’s bedroom where she was resting.

‘Oh, Maria, my dear, what do you think? I have heard from the Prince.’

‘
You
— have heard?’

‘Oh, it is meant for you, of course. That’s as clear as daylight. Here’s a letter from the Chancellor about your income.’ Maria seized it and her face flushed

angrily.

‘I shall not accept it,’ she said.

‘But of course you’ll accept it. You’ve debts to settle, haven’t you? Debts you

incurred because of him. Don’t be foolishly proud, Maria. He wants you to have

the money.’

‘Is he paying me off as he did Perdita Robinson?’

‘This is entirely different. She had to blackmail. You didn’t even have to ask.’

‘I shall not take it. You may write to His Highness and tell him so, since he

sees fit to correspond with you about affairs which I had thought should be my

concern.’

Miss Pigot left Maria and went to her room to write. She did not however

write to the Prince but to Mr. Henry Errington, Maria’s uncle, telling him what

had happened and advising him to come to Marble Hill to make Maria see reason.

He arrived within a few days and talked earnestly to Maria

Had she settled her debts? She had not. And did she propose to do so from the

two thousand a year which she had inherited from Mr. Fitzherbert? It was

impossible, she realized. And this talk of a pension seemed to her a finality.

‘Maria,’ said Uncle Henry, who had been her guardian since the days when

her father had become incapacitated through illness and who had indeed

introduced her to her first and second husbands, ‘will you leave this matter to me?

What has happened was inevitable. You should emerge from that affair with

dignity. This you cannot do if you are to be burdened with debts for the rest of

your life. You must accept this pension, which is your due. Settle your debts in

time; and then return to a solvent dignified way of living. It is the best way. Don’t forget I am your guardian and I forbid you to do anything but what I suggest.’

She smiled at him wanly. ‘Uncle I am sure you are right.’

‘Then will you allow me to settle these financial matters for you?’

‘Please do, Uncle. I do not wish to hear about them.’

Henry Errington kissed her cheek and told her that he was glad she had such a

good friend as Miss Pigot to be with her.

‘I have much to be thankful for I know, dear Uncle,’ said Maria. ‘And don’t

worry over me. I am recovering from the shock of being a deserted wife.’

But when she was alone, she asked herself:
Am I? Shall I ever?

How different life would have been if Uncle Henry had introduced her to a

steady country gentleman like Edward Weld or Tom Fitzherbert, then she would

have settled down to a comfortable middle age.

But what she would have missed!
That’s what I have to remember,
she told herself
. I have been ecstatically happy. I must remember that. And remember also
that in the nature of things that kind of happiness does not last.

Then she laid her head on her pillow and wept quietly for she had lost.

And this talk of pension seemed to her a finality.

—————————

On the 30th of December the King announced to both Houses of Parliament:

‘I have the greatest satisfactipn in announcing to you a conclusion of a Treaty of Marriage between my dear son, the Prince of Wales, and the Princess Caroline

Amelia Elizabeth, daughter of the Duke of Brunswick.’

The whole Court was buzzing with the news while the Prince grieved in the

privacy of Carlton House.

‘There is no turning back now,’ he mourned.

And in Marble Hill Maria heard the news and said to Miss Pigot: ‘This is the

third time that I have become a widow.’

But Miss Pigot still refused to believe that it was all over.

‘He still loves you,’ she insisted. ‘Look at the way he worried about your

pension. I won’t believe it till that woman’s here and married to him.’

‘Then you will believe it very soon,’ retorted Maria.

‘Never,’ cried the indomitable Miss Pigot. ‘For he can’t ever be married to

her, can he? Because he’s married to you.’

But there was no comforting Maria.

JAMES HARRIS, first Earl of Malmesbury, had come as speedily from

Hanover to the Court of Brunswick as the frosty roads would allow.

He was a man of much experience for he had been the King’s ambassador in

foreign courts for many years; now close on fifty he was still handsome,

somewhat debonair and extremely astute.

He had come to make an offer for the hand of the Princess Caroline; a

delicate task, he considered this, for if the Princess should not please the Prince of Wales on her arrival in England he would doubtless be made to feel the Prince’s

displeasure; and if he discovered the young lady to be not all that he would expect the Prince to admire, what could he do? The precise instructions from His

Majesty King George III were not to comment on the lady’s charms, nor to give

anyone any advice on the matter. His duty was solely to make an offer for the

lady’s hand and to see that thereafter the arrangements concerning the betrothal

were carried out in a correct manner.

Poor Princess, thought Malmesbury. She had not much chance of keeping His

Highness’s affections if she should ever gain them. He remembered how the

Prince had come to him at the time when he was courting Maria Fitzherbert and

had wanted to resign his hopes of the Crown and follow the lady to Europe.

He had then advised a caution which His Highness had seen fit to adopt but

by his tact and dignity had contrived to retain the Prince’s respect and friendship.

He was in ct, like many people, fond of the Prince; but that did not prevent his

being aware of the weaknesses of His Royal Highness and he could feel only pity

for the young woman who was destined to marry him.

Malmesbury was a diplomat by nature. He was a Whig in politics but at the

same time a friend and confidant of the King’s; and while he served the King and

attempted to bring lout an easier relationship between him and the Prince he

remained the Prince’s friend— which was no small achievement.

When he arrived in Brunswick he was welcomed warmly by the Duke and a

palace of the late Duke Frederick was put his disposal. He was adequately

supplied with servants which included three footmen, a valet, a concierge and two menials to guard the palace night and day. A carriage and horses were also put at his disposal; and everything was done to make him comfortable.

A sign,
he told himself,
that my mission will be a success.
He was at once invited to the Ducal Palace where he was presented to the Duchess and her

daughter; and an audience with the Duke was arranged for a few days ahead when

he could present to him his master’s proposals.

The Duchess was a talkative woman and no stranger to him, for he had known

her in England— and known her for being a meddler in affairs, a gossip and in

many ways a foolish woman. According to his first observations she had not

changed for the better. But he was not concerned with the mother nearly so much

as with the daughter.

Caroline. The future Princess of Wales and Queen of England! He saw a girl