* * *

George read Lord Bute’s letter and smiling put it into a drawer. Of course his dear friend did not understand the depth of his affection. When he did he would see that marriage with Sarah was the only solution.

He would persuade Lord Bute… and his mother. And if they did not agree?

Well, he told himself, you are the King, you know.

Today he would go to his levee and she would be there. She was often there. He believed her family knew how delighted he was to see her and that was why they always brought her with them. Sometimes he spoke to her; sometimes he contented himself with looking at her. He was a little embarrassed when face to face with her and never quite sure what to say. There was a look of mischief in her eyes which while it delighted him disconcerted him. She was serious beneath, he was sure of that; she was everything a Queen ought to be, but she liked to laugh and tease. That could be very amusing and exciting between two people when they were alone, he believed; but it was a little alarming in public.

She was very different from Hannah. No one could be more different. Perhaps that was why he found her so entrancing. Perhaps he wanted to forget Hannah had ever existed. Memories were so painful and whenever he thought of her now he thought of what would have happened if Hannah had lived and he had had to make known his secret marriage to his ministers. He shivered at the thought. He could imagine Mr Pitt’s reactions; and Newcastle, fool that he was, was at least a politician. He could imagine the talk in the streets… the gossip, the scandal. It would have been insupportable. Lord Bute had told him once when he had brought up the subject that it would have shaken the throne. A king must always think very carefully before he took an important step. He owed it to his throne and his people.

Well, he must not think of Hannah. It was all over. Hannah lay beneath that tombstone under the name of Rebecca Powell. And her children? He felt a pang of uneasiness when he remembered them. But they were well cared for. He had made sure of that. He received reports on their well-being. And he had seen them once or twice. But Lord Bute had pointed out the folly of visiting them because as they grew older they would recognize him. His features were so well known, particularly now that he was King.

‘Content yourself with knowing they are well cared for,’ advised that dear friend and mentor. ‘And when they are of age you can see that they are well placed in the world. Their mother would ask no more of you than that, because it is the best thing possible for all concerned. And now there is only one thing to do. Forget it ever happened. Forget… forget…’

That was exactly what he wanted to do, and on those occasions when he remembered he must quickly push those thoughts out of his head.

And the best one to make him forget was Sarah… who was as different from Hannah as any woman could be.

Sarah, enchanting, frivolous, gay, teasing, tempting, and with royal blood in her veins.

She was at his levee. All the time he was receiving he could see her on the other side of the room with her sister Lady Caroline Fox, and kept taking surreptitious looks at her. Oh, she was lovely. She seemed more beautiful every time he saw her. Perhaps he would speak to her. What should he say? He wished he could think of brilliant witty things. But he was going to marry her. He had decided in that moment. Nothing would satisfy him but marriage with Lady Sarah.

Lady Susan Fox-Strangways was being presented to him by her sister, Anne, who was married to the Earl of Albemarle. A pleasant-looking girl. He liked her; he would have thought her very pretty if he had not been aware all the time of the dazzling perfections of Lady Sarah.

He signed to Lady Susan to sit down and sat beside her. She had a special attraction for him because he knew that she was a very close friend of Sarah’s and he found it easier to talk to her of Sarah than to Sarah herself. Moreover, Sarah was on the other side of the room with her sister and he could keep glancing her way.

He said rather haltingly that it pleased him to see Lady Susan at his levee. He wished she was present more often but he believed her home was in Somerset.

‘That is so, Sire.’

‘Somerset. It is I believe a very pleasant county.’

‘Very pleasant, Your Majesty.’

‘And my lord Ilchester’s seat very… very… pleasant.’

‘Oh yes, Sire, my father’s house is very pleasant.’

‘You will be going there, I suppose.’

‘Yes, Sire, for the summer.’

‘And nothing will bring you back… before the winter?’

‘I don’t know of anything.’

The King was silent and Susan was growing more and more embarrassed. One could not broach a subject to the King and must content oneself with answering, but how boring it was. Moreover, she was aware of Sarah’s eyes on her from across the room. Sarah was looking sly; she was going to accuse her of trying to snatch the King from her as she herself had snatched Newbattle from Caroline Russell.

‘Would you… would you come back to see a coronation?’ asked the King.

‘Oh yes, Sire, I should hope to come back to see that.’

‘I have put off my coronation for a while. I have a reason.’

‘I am sure Your Majesty has.’

‘I thought that a coronation with a Queen would be a much finer sight than one without.’

‘That is surely so, Sire.’

The King looked at her so intently that Lady Susan was alarmed. Good heavens, she thought, is he proposing to me? Has it all been a mistake. Am I the one… not Sarah…

She dared not look at the King and lifting her eyes she saw Sarah glaring at her. Sarah would want a detailed account of this conversation.

‘I have had a great many applications from abroad,’ said the King. ‘Foreign Princesses. I don’t like the idea much.’

‘No, Your Majesty.’

He looked wistful. ‘I have had none from at home.’ He leaned towards her. ‘I should like it better if I had.’

Lady Susan began to tremble. It must be. A proposal of marriage from the King. Oh no! It could not happen in this way. It would have to be a formal approach through her parents. She was dreaming surely… Or the King was mad.

He too was looking across the room at Sarah, which was a relief since he could not see her, Susan’s, discomfiture.

‘What do you think of your friend? You know who I mean.’

He was smiling at Sarah.

‘Oh… oh yes, Sire.’

‘Don’t you think she is the fittest?’

‘Think, Sire?’

He did not seem to hear her. He said firmly: ‘I think none so fit.’ Then he returned to Susan. ‘Come with me,’ he said. ‘I wish to speak to your friend.’

Susan rose and together they crossed the room. Sarah swept an enchanting curtsy.

‘I have been talking to your friend,’ he told her.

‘I have observed Your Majesty,’ she answered pertly.

‘So you were… aware of me?’

‘Sire, everyone is aware of the King.’

He chuckled. ‘Will you ask your friend Lady Susan what I have been saying to. her?’

‘If it is your wish, Sire.’

‘It is my wish. Yes, it is my wish. Ask her to tell you and make her tell you all I said to her. Will you promise me to that?’

‘I promise, Sire.’

George seemed overcome by mirth and emotion. He left the girls and went and joined Lady Pembroke, an old friend of his.

Sarah looked at Susan interrogatively. ‘I’ll tell you when we’re alone. It’s too fantastic.’


* * *

Susan had repeated every word the King had said not only to Sarah but to the whole of Sarah’s family.

She must go through it all when she returned to Holland House. Lady Caroline questioned her, so did Mr Fox.

‘Now, Susan, are you sure? He said he thought none so fit. Are you sure of that?’

‘Absolutely sure. I remember every word.’

‘And then he took you over to Sarah and said you were to tell her what he had said.’

‘Yes… it all happened exactly as I have explained.’

‘You could have misconstrued.’

‘No, I’m sure I didn’t. It was all so simple… so straightforward… and so fantastic. Of course I haven’t made up anything.’

The Duke of Richmond called at Holland House, and Susan had to repeat the story to him.

There was a long family conference.

‘It is tantamount to a proposal,’ was the verdict.

‘But,’ said the astute Mr Fox, ‘we must have it made in the correct manner – as soon as possible.’


* * *

Lady Sarah was in tears. Lady Susan going to her room found her on her bed, face buried in the pillows.

‘What on earth is wrong?’ cried Susan. ‘I thought you were the heroine of the hour.’

Sarah sat up, dabbing at her eyes. ‘That’s just the point. All this fuss has shown me my true feelings. I love John Newbattle. He’s the one I really want and now that the King has proposed through you I’ll never be allowed to accept him.’

‘You could run away from home and marry him… like your sister did Mr Fox.’

‘It’s a possibility I’ve been thinking of.’

‘Sarah, after the King has expressed his desire to marry you!’

‘What a way to do it. To tell you because he hadn’t the courage to tell me himself.’

‘I think it rather charming,’ said Susan.

‘Because he talked to you? I’ll swear you thought he was proposing to you when he started that rigmarole. Oh, you’re blushing. So you did.’

‘Of course not. It’s not the way Kings propose in any case.’

‘This one did.’

‘You can hardly call it a proposal. He was only saying what he would like, that’s all. Perhaps he has no intention of asking you properly.’

‘Nonsense! He said all that about the coronation. My family are sure he wants to marry me. What they’ve got to do is bring him to the point.’ She sighed. ‘But there is my dear John…’

‘I don’t think he loves you as devotedly as the King does, Sarah.’

‘What nonsense! He adores me. He told me so.’

‘His affection has grown now he knows the King wants to marry you.’

‘Well, why shouldn’t it?’

‘It doesn’t seem the right reason.’

‘It’s not the only reason, idiot. I’ll tell you something. He has written to me.’

‘Who… the King.’

‘No, John. He wants me to meet him in the Park tonight. He has something important to say to me.’

‘You shouldn’t go, Sarah.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Susan! Of course I must go. I have to choose between them, don’t I, and how am I going to do that if I refuse to see them?’

‘The King is considering marrying you and you are going out by night to see another man! You are mad.’

‘And you are very prim, Susan. In any case, I am going.’

‘You have very quickly dried your eyes.’

‘Yes, because I thought they were going to force me to marry George. I have made up my mind that I shall decide. So I am going to meet John tonight in the Park and see what he has to say to me. He has written such a letter. I must show it to you. One moment. It’s in this drawer. No it’s not. Oh, where did I put it? It must be somewhere.’

‘You should be careful where you leave letters like that… particularly as…’

‘“The King is considering marrying you,”’ chanted Sarah. ‘Now, listen, Susan. I am the one who is doing the considering and I am not so sure that it is so wonderful being a Queen after all. There are tiresome duties and levees; there are ministers to receive and horrible visiting royalty. I’ve been thinking that it might be more fun to be a little distant from the throne than actually sitting on it. And it is a matter of whether I prefer gay and amusing John Newbattle to shy George. I think I know, Susan, and tonight I am going to find out.’


* * *

Lord Bute, returned from the country, went at once to Kensington to see the King. A very interesting little matter had arisen during his absence. He had always made sure that he had people situated in the right positions to bring him information; and Mr Fox’s house was a terrain he had not neglected. The news which had been brought to him did not concern that famous politician this time, but it did concern someone who was – temporarily he hoped – of more interest still: Lady Sarah Lennox.

A very interesting piece of news. Lady Sarah was inclined to be haughty and was by no means certain that she intended to accept the King’s proposal. She had another string to her bow – that bold and flirtatious young man, son of the Earl of Ancram and grandson of the Marquis of Lothian – John William Newbattle. It seemed that Madam Sarah was inclined to favour that young man in spite of his reputation for fickleness rather than steady King George.