It was a different matter when Lady Harcourt spoke to her. Lady Harcourt was a trusted friend. Charlotte was very fond of the Harcourt family, for it was Lord Harcourt, the present Lady Harcourt's father-in-law, who had come to Strelitz all those years ago to arrange for her marriage to George, who was then the Prince of Wales. She could trust Lady Harcourt and had only a year or so before appointed her a Lady of the Bedchamber. To Lady Harcourt as to no other could she confide her innermost thoughts; it was a great comfort to have such a friend.
Lady Harcourt said, when they were sitting together with their knotting in their hands: "Your Majesty, I am distressed about the rumours ... and I have hesitated whether or not I should speak to you about them."
"My dear, you know you may speak to me on any subject you think fit."
"But I did not wish to add to your anxieties."
"Have you heard something dreadful?"
"It is alarming."
"About William? That was a distressing affair. I do hope he is behaving sensibly. The King has sent him to Plymouth, but he may well take it into his reckless head to go back to Portsmouth. What a trial one's children are."
"I was not thinking of His Highness Prince William but ... of the Prince of Wales."
The Queen's fingers faltered on her knotting.
"You have heard something ... fresh?"
"I do not think it is fresh, but it is so ... persistent. I greatly fear that there may be some truth in the rumour."
"What is the rumour?"
"That he is married to this woman, Mrs. Fitzherbert."
"I have heard that rumour. It is simply not possible. How could he be married to her? It is against the law. The Royal Marriage Act forbids any member of the family to marry without the King's consent."
"But, Your Majesty, that need not prevent the Prince's doing so."
The Queen said piteously: "Oh, my dear Lady Harcourt, what have we done—the King and I—to be so plagued by our sons."
"They are young men, Your Majesty ... lusty young men. They wish for independence."
"He is the heir to the throne. He could not be so foolish."
"He is undoubtedly in love with this woman, and the Prince when he does anything does it wholeheartedly. He is, I have heard, wholeheartedly in love with Mrs. Fitzherbert."
"But I have heard that she is a good and virtuous woman. She would never allow this."
"It is because she is a virtuous woman, Your Majesty, that it has happened."
The Queen was silent for a while and then she said: "What can I do?"
"Should Your Majesty not speak to the King?"
Charlotte turned to her friend. "I can say this to you though I would say it to no other. I am afraid ... for the King."
Lady Harcourt nodded.
"This affair of William and the Portsmouth girl. It has upset him more than the Court knows. I have heard him talking ... talking endlessly at night. He ... he rambles. He goes on and on... and sometimes I do not know what he is saying. He has grown very melancholy. He talks of his sons and how he has failed with them, how the Prince of Wales hates him, how William flouts him."
"Has he been bled and purged?"
"Constantly. Far more than is generally known. I dare not speak to him at this time of this affair"
"It may not be true," said Lady Harcourt.
"No," replied the Queen gratefully. "It may not be true. But I think we should know whether it is or not."
Lady Harcourt nodded.
"If it were true," said the Queen, "it could imperil the succession; it could shake the throne. I could not tell the King in his present state of health."
"Your Majesty is the Prince's mother. Perhaps you could yourself see him ... find out if this rumour is true. He would not lie to you if you asked him for a direct answer."
"I will do it," said the Queen. "But my dear Lady Harcourt, should it be true, I tremble to contemplate the effect it would have on the King."
"Perhaps Your Majesty could keep it from the King ... until he is recovered."
The Queen smiled brightly. It was a pleasant idea; but she knew in her heart that he never would recover. She laid her hand momentarily over that of Lady Harcourt.
"It is good to talk ... with friends," she said. "I will summon him to Windsor and demand he tell me the truth."
On receiving the Queen's request that he should come to Windsor to see her, the Prince drove down from Carlton House in his phaeton.
The Queen was moved when she saw him—so elegant in his dark blue coat, his silk cravat and the diamond star glittering on his left breast. He towered above her. How handsome he is! she thought. If he would only kneel at her feet and beg her to intercede for him with the King as William had ! But of course he did no such thing. He stood before her, arrogant, caring nothing for her and showing by his manner that he quite clearly had no love for her. Her mood changed, for since he would not let her love him, her feelings were so strong that they bordered on hatred. She had never felt this strong emotion towards any of the others—it was only for George, her adored first-born whom she had worshipped in the first years of his life.
"You wished to see me, Madam." His voice was cold containing no affectionate greeting, but merely implying: Come let us get this business finished so that I can get away.
"I have heard rumours," said the Queen, "rumours which greatly disturb me."
"Yes, Madam?"
"Concerning you and a lady named Mrs. Fitzherbert."
"Indeed?"
"Rumours," continued the Queen, "that you have married the lady. Of course I know this to be an impossibility but..."
"Why an impossibility, Madam? I am capable of going through a marriage ceremony."
"I did not doubt it, but you would not be so foolish ... or so wicked ... as to deceive a lady of good character into believing that it was possible for you to marry her."
It was the wrong approach. She had seen that when his face flushed angrily.
"Madam, I am married to a lady whom I love and honour above all other people."
"Married! You are certainly not married."
"I should have thought, Madam, that I was the best judge of that."
"Evidently you are not if you can delude yourself into thinking you are this woman's husband. It is quite impossible for you to be. Have you never heard of the Marriage Act?"
"I have heard so much of that criminal measure that I never want to hear of it again. In fact my first act when I mount the throne will be to repeal it."
She stared at him aghast. How could he talk so? And the King was only forty-eight years old—a comparatively young man. One would think his father was in his dotage. She shuddered.
"Please do not talk in that way. I am not sure that it is not ... treachery."
The Prince laughed. "Madam, I thought the reason why I am treated like an imbecile or an infant in the nursery was because it was well known that I should one day be king. Is one supposed not to mention this fact as though it were something shameful?"
"The King is still a young man."
"He looks and behaves like an old one, so you cannot blame people for thinking of him as such. But you asked me here because you had heard rumours that I was married. Well, I tell you that I am, that the lady I have married is worthy to be the Queen of England; she will not disgrace your drawing room"
The Queen burst out: "She will never have an opportunity of proving that."
"So you will not receive her at Court?"
"Certainly I shall not."
"Why not? Why not?"
"Because I do not receive my son's ... mistresses ... in my drawing room."
"Madam, this is my wife."
"You know very well that cannot be. You may have gone through a form of marriage with her but she is not your wife.
And I repeat, I will not receive your mistress in my drawing room."
The Prince was white with anger. "Very well. But every other drawing room in London will think itself honoured to welcome her. And Madam, let me tell you this: your drawing room is as dull as a mausoleum and the conversation there about as lively as at a funeral gathering. In my drawing room, Madam, where the wittiest and most brilliant people of the country foregather, my wife will receive the honour due to her. So, let me inform Your Majesty that it will be no hardship to my wife that she is not received in the Queen's drawing room when she is the hostess in that of the Prince of Wales."
He gave a curt bow and walked briskly from the room.
The Queen stared after him, her heart heavy; her eyes blank with misery.
She thought of William's raging against his family in Plymouth, of the Prince of Wales in his glittering drawing room at Carlton House, doubtless making fun of his parents; and the King, growing more and more melancholy, talking to himself, addressing everyone with that repetitive rapidity which frightened her.
There was Frederick in Germany. Frederick had always been of a sunny nature. He had been devoted to the Prince of Wales in their childhood, of course, and the two of them had always been together ... loyal to each other, helping each other out of mischief.
He would be nearly twenty-three now.
Perhaps if Frederick came home there would be one son to comfort them. And it might well be that Frederick would be the future King of England, for would the people accept a King who refused to marry—for this marriage with Mrs. Fitzherbert was no marriage in the eyes of the State, and when it came to State affairs it was the State that mattered—and had gone through a morganatic marriage with a Catholic.
Perhaps she could hint to the King at some time when he was in the right mood that perhaps it was time Frederick came home.
After the interview with the Queen nothing would satisfy the Prince than that Maria should be received in every drawing room in London—and not only received but treated as though she were Princess of Wales. Any hostess who did not immediately acknowledge her as such was ignored by the Prince and, as to be cut by the Prince of Wales was social suicide, the desired homage was paid to Maria.
She had seen that it was useless to protest against the extravagance of the young lover. He would come to her all excitement because he had a surprise for her. The surprise would be a "trinket'. A trinket indeed—a brooch, a necklace, a locket ... set with diamonds, sapphires or emeralds of which she would alarmingly calculate the cost as she expressed the delight which he expected. How could one tell a Prince of Wales that he must try to live within his means? He had no idea of money. He saw an ornament. It was beautiful. Then his Maria must have it.
She was alarmed by the extravagance of the entertainments she was obliged to give at Uxbridge House. It was not that she was in the least incapable of playing hostess. Entertaining as she had at Swynnerton with Mr. Fitzherbert had given her all the experience she required in that field; and she had a natural dignity and regality which was denied to people such as the Duchess of Cumberland.
When the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland returned from abroad they immediately were aware of the situation and the Duchess hastened to welcome Maria as her "dearest niece'. The Duke was equally effusive. Not only was this necessary to retain the friendship of the Prince of Wales but it also offered a good opportunity of flouting the King—and therefore it was quite irresistible.
So Maria entertained as the Prince wished while she counted the cost and confided in her companion, Miss Pigot, an old friend whom she had brought with her as chaperone and companion when she set up in Uxbridge House, her anxieties concerning the cost of it all.
"Dear Pigot," she said, "the Prince cannot understand how much happier I should be in Park Street ... or if he does not like me to be in that house since I inherited it from Mr. Fitzherbert, some smaller establishment."
"The dear Prince is so anxious that every honour shall be yours," replied Miss Pigot.
And Maria had to agree with her. How could she spoil his pleasure? He was such a boy—not yet twenty-four, and in his enthusiasms young for his age. She would be thirty in July. Six years. It was quite a difference at their ages. So she must remember his youth, and his enthusiasms were so enchanting, especially when they were all directed at giving her pleasure.
With the coming of the spring he said they must go down to Brighton. He wanted Maria to enjoy the place as much as he did. With him went the most brilliant section of London society and the inhabitants of the once obscure little fishing village came out to gape at the nobility. But most of all they gaped at the glittering Prince of Wales.
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