Виктория Холт - Sweet lass of Richmond Hill

"It is high time I should finish this long and perhaps Your Highness will think, ill-timed letter; but such as it is, it is dedicated by pure zeal and attachment to Your Royal Highness. With respect to Mrs. Fitzherbert, she is a person with whom I have scarcely the honour of being acquainted, but I hear from everyone that her character is irreproachable and her manners most amiable. Your Royal Highness knows too that I have not in my mind the same objections to intermarriages of Princes and subjects which many have. But under the circumstances a marriage at present appears to me to be the most desperate measure for all parties concerned that their worst enemies could have suggested."

Fox threw down his pen and frowned at the paper. Then he called: "Liz. Come here, Liz."

When she came he handed the sheets to her. She opened her eyes very wide. "So much?"

"It has to be fully explained to him."

She sat down and read the letter. "He won't like it," she said.

"It can't be helped. I must put the case to him. There'll be disaster if he marries this woman."

"He won't thank you for being the prophet on this occasion."

Fox shrugged his shoulders. Lizzie remembered that he had always been a man of integrity where politics were concerned. It was no doubt the reason for his feud with the King.

This could mean, thought Lizzie shrewdly, the end of friendship with the Prince of Wales. Charles was right, of course; but he was advocating a course of action which was completely contrary to the Prince's desires; and although the future would doubtless prove Charles right, the Prince would not thank him any more for that.

No need to point this out to Charles who knew it already.

As a politician and a friend Charles was doing his duty.

She watched him seal the letter and send for the messenger.

When the Prince received the letter he took it to his bedchamber so that he might be quite alone to read it.

So Charles had ranged himself with those who would disapprove of the marriage. What depressing reading! The more so because in his heart the Prince realized the wisdom of Charles's comments.

Charles was a rake. He could not understand a woman like Maria; he did not in his heart believe that the only way she would live with the Prince was if a marriage was performed. There must be a marriage. Without that he would lose her. He wanted to shout at Charles: Do you think I don't know all that you say has some truth in it? Of course I do. But it's no good. There must be a marriage ceremony and I am going to see that there is one. I have promised Maria. She has come back to England for this purpose. The next step is a marriage ceremony—and it is inevitable.

Why must Charles plague him? It was not like Charles. His friendship had always been amusing as well as instructive; they had had such gay and pleasant times together; and in this, the most important event of his life, Charles was against him.

If Charles was going to preach against the marriage, then he must not be in the secret. He must not know what was taking place. In fact very few people were going to be in the secret, the fewer the better. He would not, of course, show Fox's letter to Maria. He would show it to no one. He must try to placate Fox, allay his suspicions, and at the same time go ahead with the arrangements for his marriage to Maria. But Charles was too shrewd to be put off with anything but a denial. He sat down and wrote:

"H.R.H. The Prince of Wales to the Right Hon. Mr.

Charles James Fox, M.P.

"My dear Charles, Your letter of last night afforded me more satisfaction than I can find words to express; as it is an additional proof to me (which I assure you I do not want) of your having that true regard and affection for me which it is not only the wish but the ambition of my life to merit. Make yourself easy, my dear friend. Believe me, the world will soon be convinced that there never was any ground for these reports which of late have been so malevolently circulated ..."

He paused. And that, he admitted, was a deliberate lie. But what can I do? he asked himself. How can I admit to Charles that I am determined to go through a ceremony of marriage with Maria because it is the only thing that will satisfy her. Maria will believe in our marriage ... and so shall I and if necessary I will resign the Crown.

He took up his pen to write a political acquaintance—a Whig who had recently changed sides and become a Tory.

"It ought to have the same effect upon all our friends that it has upon me—I mean the linking of us—closer to each other; and I believe you will easily believe these to be my sentiments; for you are perfectly well acquainted with my ways of thinking ... When I say my ways of thinking, I think I had better say my old maxim, which I ever intend to adhere to; I mean that of swimming or sinking with my friends. I have not time to add much more except to say that I believe I shall meet you at dinner at Bushey on Tuesday; and to desire you to believe me at all times, my dear Charles, most affectionately yours.

George P. "Carlton House, Sunday morning 2 o'clock. December 11th, 1785."

As he sealed the letter he felt uneasy.

Then he demanded of his reflection in the mirror on the wall: "But what else could I do?"

Much as he tried to forget Fox's letter, the Prince could not. Phrases from it kept coming into his mind. It could not be a real marriage. There was that obnoxious Marriage Act haunting him; it might have been designed by his father especially to plague him. His uncles, Cumberland and Gloucester, had escaped it, although it was due to their actions that it had been brought into force. Why should not a man be allowed to marry where he pleased?

On one point the Prince had made up his mind: nothing was going to stop his union with Maria.

When he was with her he was in such transports of delight that he forgot mundane necessities. He could only think of the arrangements that must be made quickly so that she could consider herself his wife. The Maria who had returned from her travels was more enchanting—if that were possible—than the one who had left England; for now in her serious way she admitted her love for him.

T don't deserve it. I don't deserve the love of a pure good woman like you, Maria," he cried.

He looked back on the man he had been—at all those sordid intrigues with women. He regretted them; he confessed to them with tears to Maria. He was unworthy of her; but she embraced him and said that it was the rest of the world who would consider her unworthy and she would never forget all he was prepared to give up for her.

"You will see," he cried. "Maria, there is nothing in the world I will not do for you. I cannot wait for the ceremony to be performed. Why does there have to be this delay."

"We have waited so long," replied Maria tenderly, "that a week or so is not much more."

"It seems an age to me ... as every minute does away from my beloved White Rose. Ah, Maria, so you are a Catholic and therefore a Jacobite, I believe. An enemy of the House of Hanover !"

"There is one member of that house to whom I will be faithful unto death do us part."

He repeated the words ecstatically. He could not wait to say them before a priest.

"Gardner has not yet succeeded in getting an undertaking from Rosenhagen to perform the ceremony," he commented grimly.

She was anxious. "Do you think we shall be unable to find a priest to marry us?"

"I'll find a priest. Have no fear of that."

"Still, Colonel Gardner does seem to be having difficulty. So you think ..."

She paused and when he tenderly urged her to continue she said: "Colonel Gardner is not only your private secretary but your very good friend. He may think it in your interests not to find that priest."

The Prince was alarmed, remembering Fox's letter.

He grew a little pink and said: "He had my instructions. He will obey them."

"Then perhaps it is Rosenhagen who is reluctant."

"Rosenhagen will do what is required of him, my dearest."

A particular phrase from Charles' letter occurred to him: "If I were Mrs. Fitzherbert's father or brother I would advise her not to agree."

Her father was still living but more dead than alive having suffered a paralytic stroke some years before, so he would not be in a position to raise any objections; but she had brothers and an uncle who had taken a particular interest in her. What if they should write to her as Fox had written to him?

"Your family should be present at our wedding. Do you think so, my love?"

She turned to him all eagerness. How lovely she was when animated. It was something she had hoped for but had hardly dared to suggest.

"You had dared not suggest it! Oh, am I such an ogre then? Do you so fear to offend me ... you who did not hesitate to break my heart when you ran away and left me?"

"How could I believe that it would be broken merely because I went away? And I promise most faithfully to do such a skilful job of repairing it that you will never notice the cracks."

He laughed; he embraced her; and then he said that her family should be presented to him. Her brothers, her uncle— he wanted to ask them in person to their wedding.

She was pleased, so he was happy.

He sang for her and what better choice than that popular ballad.

She listened fondly. Each day she grew more attached to him. She wanted this wedding as eagerly as he did; and what more appropriate song than that which was so popular throughout the town.

"I'd crowns resign To call thee mine, Sweet lass of Richmond Hill!

Colonel Gardner reported with some concern that the Reverend Philip Rosenhagen had written that it would be against the law for him to perform a ceremony of marriage between the Prince of Wales and Mrs. Fitzherbert.

"Did you tell him," demanded the Prince, "that I pledge myself to keep the matter a deep secret?"

"I did, sir, and his reply was that he dare not betray his duty to you"

"What! Rosenhagen! When has he developed such a sense of duty? He has performed many a shady trick in his life, I can tell you. Why has he suddenly become so virtuous? Did you hint that there might be preferment for him if he obliged us on this occasion?"

"I did, sir. But I think he was after some specific offer."

" Bribery ?"

"I think so, sir."

"Try someone else."

"I thought of that, Your Highness. There is the rector of Wehvyn in Hertfordshire, the Reverend Johnes Knight. He is no ordinary parson as you know, but a man of wealth—not particularly ambitious. He doesn't need to be. He has been to Court now and then. Your Highness may not remember but he is a friend of friends of Your Highness's. I have ascertained that he is at this moment visiting Lord North at Bushey and I propose—with Your Highness's permission—to write to him there and ask him to come to Carlton House. I think he might be willing to perform the ceremony."

"Do it, Gardner. I confess I find all this delay irksome.

It was more than irksome. It was faintly alarming. Fox's letter had done it. If Fox felt so strongly, so might others. One could never be sure who was going to hold up hands of disapproval. And if all these arguments against their union were to reach Maria's ears, who knew what she would do? He simply must not allow her to leave him a second time.

In the meantime he was going to meet her family; he was going to persuade them of the advantages of this marriage in case these disturbing impediments were put to them.

The Reverend Johnes Knight was playing a round game in the drawing room of Lord North's house in Bushey when a messenger arrived from Carlton House with an invitation for the clergyman to dine with the Prince of Wales.

Lord North looked a little startled that his guest should have received such a letter and agreed that he should set out without delay for Carlton House; but the gravity of his lordship's expression set the Reverend Johnes Knight wondering what it could mean, and when Lord North drew him aside and whispered that if he were wise he would tell no one of the summons to Carlton House until he had ascertained what was required of him, he was a little uneasy.

"I am merely to dine with the Prince," he said.

Lord North raised his eyebrows. "I should imagine that something more will be asked of you than your company at dinner"