Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill: (Georgian Series) (21 page)

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 1 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?’

The Ceremony in Park Street

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.

‘I 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, 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’s 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 Welwyn, 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.’

It was possible. When previously had the Prince invited the
Reverend Johnes Knight to dine with him? The answer was: Never before.

With some trepidation he presented himself at Carlton House where he was conducted to a waiting room, and when he had been there a very short time one of the Prince’s gentlemen, Edward Bouverie, came to say that the dinner party was cancelled. The Prince, however, would see him if he would present himself at Carlton House on the following morning.

Somewhat bemused the Reverend Johnes Knight left Carlton House and feeling hungry went into the Mount Coffee House to have a meal.

As he stepped inside he heard his name called and there saw an old friend of his, a Colonel Lake, who asked what he was doing in London at this time. Remembering Lord North he prevaricated for a while but let out that he had called at Carlton House, at which the Colonel grew very alert. He was to have dined there, the clergyman proudly explained, but the dinner had been cancelled and he had looked into the coffee house for something to eat.

‘Why not dine with me?’ suggested the Colonel, and the clergyman was delighted to have company, for he was a man who was not fond of being alone.

Over dinner they talked of friends and politics and at last the subject of the Prince’s infatuation for Mrs Fitzherbert was mentioned.

‘I would not have believed he could have been so affected. Why, when she went away he was well nigh demented. There is no doubt about it, he is deeply enamoured of this woman.’

‘What a pity that she is not a German Princess. What a happy situation that would be! But alas, life does not work out as conveniently as that.’

‘Unfortunately not. The Prince is a charming young man and I should like to see him happy. I see no solution to his problem. She won’t live with him without marriage; and how can he marry her?’

‘Alas, it seems that they are faced with an impossible situation.’

The Colonel gave his companion a shrewd look. ‘There is no way out. They may seek some clergyman misguided enough to perform the ceremony.’