After the manner of his father, he believed that it was due to his dignity to take a mistress or two, although the company of his own sex delighted him and it seemed to him that Lord Hervey was the ideal companion.
Very soon they were firm friends.
Stephen Fox was a little jealous of Hervey’s devotion to the Prince but Hervey wrote comfortingly to Stephen that the Prince was a fool and that it was not through friendship that they were so much together. While he was forced to spend his time with Frederick his thoughts were with Stephen, and when he was at a banquet at Lord Harrington’s and Stephen’s name was proposed as a toast, he had felt himself blushing as a man’s favourite mistress would have done on the same occasion. Stephen was the person whom he adored more than all the others in the world bundled together. Stephen should remember this—no matter what gossip he heard of Hervey and his new friend.
Like his father, Frederick enjoyed discussing his love affairs. They were numerous he told Hervey. And what of his?
‘Numerous also,’ replied Hervey languidly.
This delighted Frederick, who went on to explain the charms of the daughter of one of the Court musicians.
‘The hautboy player. She is very charming ... and so humble. Yet it cost me all of fifteen hundred pounds to set her up in her own establishment.’
‘Generous of Your Royal Highness. The honour should have sufficed.’
That delighted Frederick. ‘Oh, I like to be generous with those who please me.’
Over-generous, thought Hervey. There’ll be debts.
‘She is very different from Madame Bartholdi. You know Madame Bartholdi?’
‘An excellent singer. I have heard her at the opera.’ ‘A passionate woman.’
‘My dear Fred, most women in England would feel passion for the Prince of Wales.’
How easy it was to please. He liked Hervey to call him Fred. He prided himself on his democratic attitude. That was why he liked to roam the streets at night incognito.
His latest acquisition was the daughter of an apothecary at Kingston and he was constantly taking boat there to see her.
So tiresome! thought Hervey.
He himself had his duties in the Queen’s apartments. Caroline had always liked him; she reminded him of how he used to ride along beside her chaise when the hunt was on and amuse her with his conversation.
‘Are you still as witty as you were then, Lord Hervey?’ she asked.
‘I trust Your Majesty will give me opportunities of assuring you that I am more so.’
She laughed. ‘I hope it is not venomous wit like little Mr Pope’s and so many of his sort. It is so much more clever to be witty and kind, Lord Hervey, than witty and cruel.’
‘Your Majesty being both witty and kind is the cleverest of us all.’
‘There is no need for flattery. You should save that for the Prince of Wales. Ah, how different everything is now. I remember when you were a very young man and were courting Molly Lepel. How is dear Molly?’
‘Very well and very fruitful.’
‘Somehow I did not think you would be father to so many.’
‘I am delighted to be able to surprise Your Majesty.’
‘And I am delighted to see your friendship with the Prince of Wales. If you can teach him to be a little more serious ...’
He smiled. ‘When I am scarcely serious myself?’
‘A little more ...’ She was going to say like yourself, but perhaps that would be too strong. There were always people within earshot and she did not want to start a scandal about herself and Lord Hervey. He was after all about fourteen years younger than she was but she had always had a fondness for him and she knew she brightened when he stood beside her chair and enlivened her with his conversation. George would be furious if there was so much as a breath of scandal about her. And he was difficult enough to handle as it was.
‘A little more princely,’ she said. ‘I fear he wastes his time in the company of ...’
‘Men like myself?’
‘No, you will be good for him. I am sure of it.’ She turned away. She would have to be careful.
Hervey was well aware of her caution and was amused by it. There was nothing he liked so much as to exert his charm, and to have made the Queen aware of it delighted him.
Perhaps he should spend more time near to her.
He noticed one of her maids regarding him with some interest, and when he left the Queen’s presence he found her at his side. She was very handsome and very voluptuous. He knew of her. She was Anne Vane at present mistress of Lord Harrington, although Harrington was by no means the first man to have been her lover.
‘My lord,’ she said, ‘it is good to see you back at Court. I trust you will stay.’
There was invitation there. Hervey considered it. She interested him, partly because she must be as different from his wife as a woman could be. Molly was as cool as April; this woman was hot August.
Her gaze was flattering: ‘You bring out the male in me,’ he said.
She laughed understanding. Hervey was an interesting character. Two-sided, it was said. There was the feminine side and the masculine. He liked this to be said. It made him seem so interesting. Although he preferred perhaps the company of his men friends, he was, he wanted people to know, not without interest in women.
‘We must talk together sometime.’
Anne Vane opened her mouth and let her tongue appear between her white teeth.
‘Some say there is no time like the present,’ she said. ‘And do you say it?’
‘On this occasion most emphatically? And my lord?’ ‘Slightly less emphatically.’
‘I am sure I should know how to make you more emphatic.’
‘And my Lord Harrington?’
‘Is spending a few days in the country.’
‘That must make you very sad.’
She smiled and laid her hand on his arm.
Hervey found Anne Vane an interesting mistress; and the liaison became more intriguing when Harrington returned. Hervey had no wish to make it known that he was Anne’s lover. Stephen became so jealous and there was always someone to carry such news.
He did not know what Frederick’s reaction would be either, for he and Frederick were drawing closer together every day and the Prince was beginning to tire of the apothecary’s daughter.
To please the Prince he suggested they should write a play together, and this delighted Frederick. Of course, thought Hervey, I shall do all the work; but it was worth it to have people saying that he and the Prince were becoming inseparable.
The play was difficult to write for he had never tried his hand at playwriting before. It required a more sustained effort than the writing of verses or the notes he was accustomed to make in his journal. He had his doubts as to the virtue of the play, but Frederick was enthusiastic about it. Poor Fred! He had no literary taste!
When the play was finished Frederick insisted on sending it to Wilks, the actor-manager at Drury Lane.
‘He must put it on the stage,’ cried Frederick. ‘No one shall know who wrote it. The King and the Queen will come and admire it and then and only then shall they know that the son whom they despise has some talents.’
Hervey regarded the Prince tolerantly. Did he really think Wilks would put on their little piece if he didn’t know the Prince had had a hand in it. Didn’t he see that the only hope of its ever being on a stage was because his name went with it.
But one must placate royalty, which often meant deceiving it.
‘You, my lord, will know exactly how to manage this. I want to go to the theatre and see our play.’
‘Leave it with me,’ said Hervey.