"Miss Paget regrets it is not in her power to comply with the wishes of His Royal Highness to their fullest extent, but in a matter of so much delicacy there is not anything Miss Paget would not do to accomplish this purpose which he has in view and thereby contribute to his personal happiness. As secrecy in a matter of this kind is of the greatest moment, il His Royal Highness will confer on Miss Paget the honour of meeting her at the faro table of the Duchess of Cumberland on Tuesday, the business may be arranged to the entire satisfaction of His Royal Highness."

Maria read the letter and a rare anger took possession of her. There could be no mistaking the meaning of the note. He had been unfaithful before, but he was carrying on this affair under her own roof and with a girl who was her protege.

She would hide her suspicions, however, and the following day accompanied the deceitful Miss Paget—who was playing the innocent girl with such perfection that Maria thought she must have imagined the whole affair—to Cumberland House, where they were received with pleasure by the Duke and Duchess. In due course the Prince arrived. Maria watched him closely; he did not speak to Miss Paget but she fancied their glances met and that the arrangement was made.

The Prince roamed through the company bestowing his smiles liberally, chatting with Maria, as affectionately as ever until the Duchess asked the company if they would care to pass to the card tables, as play was about to begin. And suddenly there was the Prince beside Miss Paget and as they passed into the card room, the pair disappeared. It was impossible for such an illustrious guest to disappear without notice and speculative-glances were exchanged.

So Maria Fitzherbert's young guest was the new young lady, was she? Poor Maria! What she had to put up with from their naughty Prince!

Maria nursed her resentment during the game and as early as possible said goodbye to her hostess and, not waiting for Miss Paget, she went back to her house in Pall Mall.

After a sleepless night Maria arose determined on action. She took a dish of chocolate in her room, being unable to eat anything, and then going down to her drawing room sent one of the servants to Miss Paget's room to tell her that she wished to see her as soon as possible.

The young lady appeared looking innocent and undisturbed although she must have been surprised that Maria had gone home without her on the previous night. Who had brought her back? wondered Maria. She could guess it was the Prince.

"Good morning," said Maria coolly.

"Good morning," cooed Miss Paget.

I have sent for you," went on Maria, "to tell you that you are no longer my guest and it will be agreeable to me if you select another place of residence."

"But..."

Maria turned away. "I will tell one of the servants to pack your bags without delay."

"But where...? What...?"

"I do not think you need further explanation," said Maria. "And I have no wish to discuss the matter."

Miss Paget burst into tears; but long association with the Prince had led Maria to distrust this form of emotion.

She walked out of the room and in half an hour Miss Paget's bags were packed and Mrs. Fitzherbert's carriage was waiting to take her back to her family.

Miss Paget went instead to Carlton House where amid floods of tears she told the Prince what had happened.

He was alarmed. Miss Paget was a pretty creature but not worth a quarrel with Maria. She must go back to her family and he would see that she had a handsome husband who should make up to her for all she had endured.

Somewhat mollified Miss Paget left and the Prince went at once to Maria.

He went straight into the attack. "How could you be so ungracious to a guest ... and a guest who is almost as much my guest as yours. To turn the girl away ..."

"Don't waste your sympathy on her. As you will have discovered she is not so innocent as she appears."

"She was a guest."

"A very special guest of Your Highness's."

"No, Maria, this is foolish jealousy on your part."

She told him of the letter she had seen. She had read it and she remembered every word. There was no doubt in her mind what it meant ... and then his conduct with the brazen creature...

"My dear Maria, it was unpardonable of you to read a guest's letters."

T found it, so naturally I read it."

"Most unnaturally! It was most dishonourable and the height of bad manners."

"And what of your manners in seducing a young girl in my care?"

"Seducing the girl? What nonsense!"

His lies were as facile as his tears.

She told him so. "Do you think I cannot see through you? Do you think I'm a fool?"

"My dear love ..."

She threw him off. "Perhaps these women believe your protestations. I have learned to distrust them."

Maria was magnificent in her fury ... like a queen of tragedy. A damned attractive woman, Maria; and no other light affair could ever compare with his marriage to her. In his heart he regarded it as a marriage and always would, he told himself. But he must placate her. Now what was this letter. He could explain everything.

And he did in most glib manner.

"It's those debts, Maria, those damned debts. The bane of my life. They are bothering me again. Why cannot these people exercise a little patience? They'll get their money in time. I did something rather foolish, Maria. This Miss Paget of yours..."

"Of mine?"

"Your guest, my dear love, and she is nothing to me ... absolutely nothing."

"You will have to convince me of that."

"I can ... with ease ... the utmost ease. I was telling you of these debts. Her family is very rich, as you know, and I am getting desperate. I can't go to my father again .. "

"Oh, these debts" cried Maria in exasperation. "Why cannot we live within our means?"

"I should like that, Maria ... the two of us in a country house somewhere like the Pavilion."

The Pavilion! She laughed. That costly country house on which he was spending a fortune!

"Just the two of us, Maria. Well, I was foolish enough to ask Miss Paget for a loan of £10,000. Now you wondered why we disappeared together at Cumberland's. She had brought me some of the money ... as she said in the letter. But not all. She brought seven thousand pounds, which is very useful as you can realize, Maria."

"Very," she said, "if she ever gave it to you."

"I am telling you what happened."

"And I am telling you that I don't believe a word of it."

"Now, Maria, are you telling me that I am a liar?"

She pushed him from her and walked to the door. "Yes," she said, "I am. I have long known that you were skilled in that art."

"This is no way to talk to your husband."

"My husband," she said. "Will you go to your family and call yourself that? I must endure sly looks. I must be insulted by your brother's wife. And you allow it to happen. Please go now before I lose my temper."

"Before you have lost it? That is a joke."

In a sudden irresistible irritation she took off her shoe and threw it at him. It caught the diamond star on his jacket.

He stood staring at it as it lay on the floor.

Then he strode out of the room and went back to Carlton House.

Lady Jersey

Shortly after the Paget affair the Prince made the acquaintance of an extremely fascinating woman. This was the wife of the Earl of Jersey who had become his Lord of the Bedchamber and Master of Horse.

Frances, Countess of Jersey, had attracted him largely because she was as different from Maria as a woman could be. She was small and dainty; a woman of the world; a leader of fashion, a beauty possessed of a pungent wit, an undoubted aristocrat. She was considerably older than the Prince—nine years in fact—and was the mother of two sons and seven daughters, some of whom were already married and had made her a grandmother.

But no sooner had the Prince set eyes on her than he was enchanted, and Lady Jersey was scarcely the sort of woman to indulge in a light love affair.

She was the daughter of an Irish Bishop and from her earliest youth had been expected to make a good match not only on account of her outstanding beauty but because of her intellect. She had been known as the beautiful Miss Frances Twysden and no one had been surprised when she had become the Countess of Jersey.

She was soon moving in the highest circles and through her friend Lady Harcourt—an intimate of the Queen—she had very soon gained the confidence of Charlotte herself.

Lady Jersey was ambitious. She was looking for adventure and more than that—power; and she knew that her husband would be complaisant. Her children were all growing up and she needed the diversions she visualized through an association with the Prince of Wales. But she was not the woman to take second place, which was what every one of the Prince's mistresses had been obliged to do. He had always gone back to Maria Fitzherbert, the erring husband asking forgiveness.

But it was not going to be so with Lady Jersey.

The Prince sensed this and in spite of his quarrels with Maria, in spite of those moments when he told himself that all his troubles came through his association with her, he regarded her as the wife to whom he had made his vows and believed in his heart that however much they quarrelled she would always be there in the background waiting to comfort him when he, penitently, returned to her.

He was a little afraid of this quick-witted woman with the alluring body, with the beautiful intelligent eyes—this clever Lady Jersey. He believed that if she finally took possession of him she would never wish to let him go—and how was he going to explain that to Maria?

Lady Jersey had her own ideas. He would not have to explain, because this was going to be the end of Maria Fitzherbert—the end of that ridiculous marriage which was no marriage. Fat, complacent Maria could say goodbye to her Prince and go back to being the virtuous widow she had been before she met him.

The Prince avoided Lady Jersey, but she would not allow that. She contrived to be wherever he was; and she began to fascinate him so that he looked for her at every house he visited. In time hostesses knew that unless she was present he was bored and listless.

The whole of London was watching the effect the mercurial Frances was having upon the Prince of Wales.

There followed the inevitable result which the Prince had sought. Now, he had thought, it would be like every other affair. He would enjoy it for a while, grow tired of it, and with satiety would conic repentance. He would go back to Maria; there would be reproaches and recriminations, then they would be reconciled and he would be the good and faithful husband until the next charmer came along.

But it was not quite like that. The more he made love with Frances, the more he wished to. It was a strange emotion which lie felt for her. By no means the romantic love he had felt for Maria ... nor even that which he had known with Perdita Robinson. This was different; this was an irresistible fascination which astonished him because he was not in love; and he was a romantic who had always looked for love.

This was different. It repelled and attracted, yet he could not resist it. When he was with Frances he was enslaved.

Maria knew of the relationship between the Prince and Lady Jersey.

Another of them! she thought. When it is over he will come back to me full of repentance. And I shall forgive him. Why does he behave in this way?

But what was the use? What could she do? Only wait for the attraction to pass as it had passed so many times before.

Lady Harcourt talked to the Queen.

The Queen felt at peace with Lady Harcourt who was one of her oldest friends. She had confided in her during the old days—the time before she had become an important figure at the Court. Lady Harcourt knew of the slights she had suffered when the King had kept her shut away from Court, and she had lived quietly at Kew, bearing children. So now if anyone could speak to the Queen of the intimate affairs of her family, that woman was Lady Harcourt.

"Well," said Charlotte, "what is the news of my son's latest amour?"

"It progresses, Your Majesty."

"Mrs. Fitzherbert cannot be very pleased," said the Queen with a smirk.

"Pleased, Your Majesty? She must be well nigh frantic"