* * *

Elizabeth presented herself to the Dowager Princess. Augusta forced herself to smile. She wished the woman had stayed in the country. There was something quite brazen about her; and when one thought how much she knew of that unfortunate affair of George and the Quaker it was really quite disconcerting.

‘So you have returned,’ said Augusta.

Elizabeth swept a demure curtsy. ‘And have come to ask Your Highness’s pardon.’

The Princess raised her eyebrows.

‘Have I Your Highness’s permission to proceed?’

‘Pray do.’

‘I have to confess, Your Highness, that I am married.’

‘And when did this occur?’

‘Some years ago, Your Highness.’

‘I see, so you have been posing at my Court as a single woman.’

‘That is so, Your Highness.’

‘I find this distasteful.’

‘Your Highness, I fear there is much going on that is distasteful.’ The beautiful wide-open eyes met those of the Princess Dowager and the Princess felt her own colour rise. A reference to herself and Lord Bute. The insolence of the creature. She would not have her at the Court. Could this clandestine marriage be used as a means of getting rid of her?

‘The name of your husband?’

‘The Honourable Augustus John Hervey.’

‘Bristol’s grandson… and heir.’ Light was beginning to dawn on the Princess. Bristol was very ill, close to death, she had heard. Now she knew why Elizabeth Chudleigh was anxious to announce her marriage. She was looking forward to being Countess of Bristol. The woman was shameless, a schemer, unscrupulous.

Yes, in spite of Lord Bute’s warnings she was going to get rid of her.

‘I trust Your Highness is not displeased.’

‘I am very displeased. I do not care for this secrecy. I find it… discourteous. I trust you enjoyed your stay in the country. Where was it?’

‘Larnston, Your Highness, not far from Winchester.’

‘A pleasant part of the country, I believe. You should enjoy staying there.’

Elizabeth was startled. Was that a command?

‘Now you may leave me.’

Elizabeth was alarmed. She knew what would happen. She had seen it before. She would retire to her apartments, and in a very short time a messenger would come to her with the news that there was no longer a place for her in the Princess’s household and she would be expected to leave within a few hours. And once out it would be hard to come back. The King? He was getting old and tired. He might have forgotten that he had once found her attractive.

She must act quickly. She had always been impulsive; it was one of her great faults; but this was definitely an occasion when prompt action was necessary.

‘Your Highness… certain information has come to me which my loyalty to you demands I pass on… without delay.’

‘What?’

‘Madam, I scarcely know how to tell you. I fear it will be a great shock. It is a matter of the utmost gravity…’

‘What are you trying to say to me?’

‘It concerns the Prince.’

The Princess Dowager’s attitude had changed. She had suddenly realized that they were no longer discussing a maid of honour’s trivial misdemeanour, and she was a frightened woman.

Dare I? Elizabeth asked herself. But it was the only way. She must not tell him that I told… I must prevent that. And if she did? Well, then she could go to him when the storm had abated and tell him she had done it for the sake of the crown, the throne, the country.

She must create a diversion now . . . she must show that she could be useful to the Princess… otherwise a greater calamity than the Prince’s marriage would occur: Elizabeth Chudleigh would be expelled from Court.

She had made up her mind.

‘Your Highness, the Prince is married.’

The Princess Dowager had risen; she was speechless and reached blindly for the arm of her chair to steady herself.

‘I am sorry it is I who must give Your Highness such news.’

‘It is not possible…’ stammered the Princess, for this was the only state of affairs she could possibly tolerate.

‘Alas… Your Highness.’

‘How? When? To whom?’

‘A short while ago, Madam. He did not tell me the date. But he was married by Dr Wilmot in Curzon Street to Hannah Lightfoot.’

‘The… the Quaker woman?’

‘Yes, Your Highness.’

‘I do not believe it. It is some fabrication. It is quite untrue. It would not be possible.’

‘Would Your Highness wish me to summon one of the maids to bring you some… stimulant. Your Highness seems in need…’

‘Summon no one. Is the door shut? Make sure that no one is near.’

‘Yes, Your Highness.’

‘Now… who has told you this… ridiculous falsehood?’

‘His Highness, the Prince.’

‘He has told you this?’

‘He confides in me, Madam. He finds me sympathetic. You will remember how useful I was able to be to Your Highness when he began this connection… because he himself had confided in me.’

The Princess picked up her fan absently and began to fan herself. She felt faint. It is not true, she kept telling herself. It could not possibly be true. I am dreaming, of course. This is a nightmare. I must wake up because this idea is intolerable… even in a dream.

‘He would never do such a thing,’ she said flatly.

Elizabeth was silent. If the Princess thought that she did not know her son. It was just the idiotic senseless chivalrous idealistic manner in which George would act.

‘He felt he owed marriage to the lady in view of their relationship, Your Highness. The lady is sick… and fears herself to be near death… she was in great mental torment because of this… relationship and the Prince believed that the only way to bring her peace of mind was to marry her.’

‘He has told you this… ?’

‘Yes, Your Highness.’

Oh, George, you fool… you madman! thought his mother. Not only do you do this dreadful thing but you confide in this woman… this unscrupulous creature who is a born schemer and intriguer, not above a little blackmail. George, you are mad… quite mad. What are we going to do?

‘You had better tell me all you know.’

‘Your Highness, I have nothing more to tell you. All His Highness has told me is that the marriage has taken place.’

‘Has he told anyone else of this marriage?’

‘I think very few people know, Your Highness. His brother Edward…’

‘Edward!’

‘Who acted as a witness, Your Highness.’

‘Oh, my God!’

‘Then, of course, there is Dr Wilmot. He did not mention any other.’

‘Of course I cannot believe such a story.’

‘But Your Highness will wish to find out whether there is any truth in it.’

‘Such silly rumours should always be proved false.’

Elizabeth could almost feel sorry for the woman. She was really shaken; and the more she protested her disbelief the more plausible the story seemed to her.

‘Your Highness at least believes in my good faith.’

‘Your good faith?’

‘That I would not be so false or so foolish as to tell you that His Highness himself confessed this to me if he had not done so?’

The Princess was silent.

‘And may I ask Your Highness not to mention to His Highness that I have told you this?’

The insolence of this woman was past all bearing. But she must be careful. One must always be careful with blackmailers, and Elizabeth Chudleigh was an extremely subtle one; moreover, the information she had to hide was such which could make the kingdom rock.

‘If His Highness knew that I had told you he would no longer confide in me. I would wish to be loyal to His Highness and I have pondered on this; I have come to the conclusion that I can best serve His Highness by making this known to Your Highness, for I know that you will bring the discretion to settling this affair which is necessary to His Highness and the nation.’

The Princess did not answer.

‘Your Highness knows that I am entirely at your service,’ went on Elizabeth. ‘If in the action you will take you should need me to act for Your Highness in any way… if there is something which I may be able to discover…’

‘Yes, yes,’ said the Princess. ‘Leave me now and send to me…’

‘My Lord Bute?’ asked Elizabeth with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

But the Princess Dowager was too shaken to notice it.


* * *

She threw herself into his arms. ‘What are we to do? I cannot believe it… and yet I must. How could this have happened? Without telling us! He tells that… creature . . . and not us! Can you believe it?’

Lord Bute looked stunned. It certainly was disconcerting. The Prince, to whom he had believed himself to be so close, to have acted in this way and not told him!

But that was a small matter compared with the tremendous implication of all this.

‘Oh, John, do you think my son is mad?’

‘He is a fool,’ replied Bute savagely.

‘What are we going to do?’

‘We must think about it… clearly… calmly.’

‘Oh, my darling, what a comfort you are! I know you will understand how to deal with this matter. Should we send for him?’

‘By no means. That woman is right. We will say nothing to him.’

‘I could storm at him… whip him with my own hands.’

‘He is too big for that, Augusta… and he is the Prince of Wales. I fear of late I have made him realize the importance of his position. Perhaps I have been wrong. I have tried to make him into a King… which he may well be at any moment… and as a result he thinks he can act as he wishes without consulting me… us. Who would have believed he could have done this thing? But first we must prove that he has.’

‘He told her… Elizabeth Chudleigh… himself, John.’

‘And to tell that woman! What next? One act of folly on top of another!’

‘Could he have been joking, John?’ asked the Princess, piteously hopeful.

‘Have you ever known him to joke? He doesn’t know what a joke is. But we are wasting time. We have got to think of how to act.’

‘How can we act? Think of it, John! That woman… that merchant’s daughter or whatever she is, is the Princess of Wales. She could tomorrow be Queen of England. Oh, what can we do?’

‘We must stop it. That much I know.’

‘How?’

‘That’s what we must discover.’

‘Can you see a way?’

‘Not at the moment. But it’s there, of course. There’s always a way.’

‘John, you don’t think we ought to advise Mr Pitt or Newcastle.’

‘Never. No, no… no one must know of this. It has to be our secret… and, a curse on her, that woman Chudleigh.’

‘So we say nothing… not even to George?’

‘Most of all not to George.’

‘I do not know how I shall contain-myself in his presence. I think I shall plead a slight indisposition so that I do not have to see him.’

‘Perhaps that would be advisable. It is a terrible ordeal, my love. But will you leave this to me?’

‘Oh, my dearest, most willingly.’

‘I will have some plan of action, you may be sure.’

‘I am convinced of it.’

‘In the meantime, I must see this Dr Wilmot. I must get the truth from him, threaten him with dire consequences if this leaks out through him; and then I must find some means of severing this impossible connection.’

‘My darling, do you think you can do it?’

‘Have you ever known me fail you?’

‘Never,’ she cried fervently.


* * *

Lord Bute suggested that the Prince of Wales should accompany him to Kew where they would stay for a while.

‘There we can find more solitude,’ he explained, ‘and I have much to say to Your Highness.’

George had always had a particular liking for Kew; the palace was unpretentious; he liked the river and he had taken a great dislike to Hampton since his grandfather had slapped his face there.

‘I want you to get a real grasp of affairs,’ Bute had told him. ‘The country is moving forward at a great rate. In the last few years the change has been significant. You must see in every aspect this country of which you will one day be King.’

George was eager to learn. He was a little worried every now and then when he remembered his marriage. At first it had seemed so right and noble; but now that he was a little farther from the event he was beginning to realize what significant action he had taken. He would do the same again, he assured himself; but he did realize that when the news was out it was going to be a very great shock to the people he cared about – such as his mother and Lord Bute.