He embraced her with tears in his eyes.
"I am happy to see you well, my dear. And Charles?"
Charles had heard his arrival and was coming out to greet him.
"My dear, dear friend"
Tears, thought Charles. This means he wants me to do some thing. How can I induce the woman to throw aside her principles and jump into bed with him?
"Your Highness, you honour us."
"And envy you, you fortunate pair! I would give up everything to know contentment such as you enjoy in this little cottage."
Cottage! thought Lizzie. It was scarcely that. It was a com fortably sized house and she was very proud of it. Compared with Carlton House, of course ...
"We are astonished that Your Highness should deign to visit such a humble dwelling," she replied.
"My sweet Liz, it's not the dwelling I come to see but you two dear friends."
"Your Highness will come into our humble drawing room doubtless," said Fox, "and perhaps partake of a little humble refreshment which will be served by our humble servants."
The Prince laughed through his tears. Then he said appealingly: "The humility is all on my side, Charles. I come to beg of you to help me."
He sat in the drawing room, diminishing it by his dazzling presence. His large plump form weighing heavily on the chair he had selected—feet stretched before him, glittering shoe buckles almost vying with the magnificent diamond star on the left side of his elegant green coat.
When wine had been brought he looked helplessly from Charles to Lizzie. "What am I going to do?" he demanded. "She receives me. She is kind; she laughs; she is gracious; but she will not allow me to as much as kiss her cheek."
"Mrs. Robinson held off for a very long time," said Lizzie. "I remember how she used to pace up and down her room and declaim: "His wife I cannot be. His mistress I will never be." It is a quotation, from some play most likely. She was full of such quotations. But all the time she had a firm intention to give in. She was being reluctant in order to make you more eager."
"You cannot compare Mrs. Robinson with Mrs. Fitzherbert."
"Except that they are both women. Mrs. Robinson had one husband and Mrs. Fitzherbert has had two."
Perdita's husband was living. He was somewhere in the background. Maria has been twice widowed."
Lizzie knew when to be silent. Charles said: "Has Your Highness tried offering her estates ... er .. "
The Prince laughed bitterly. "You don't know Maria. She does not want money. She had made it clear to me that she is perfectly happy with her income. Moreover, she knows how to live within it which is more than we do within ours."
"If she were not such an admirable woman," said Charles, "we should not be confronted by this impasse. Virtue can have its drawbacks. A little sin is very convenient now and then."
It was Lizzie's turn to flash a warning at Charles.
"We must try to find some solution to His Highness's problem," she said. "He knows we would do anything ... just anything ..."
"My dear, dear Lizzie, I know it well." The tears were in his eyes; he covered his face with his hands. "But what ... what ... what"
"Has Your Highness explored every approach? Is there anything that would make the lady relent?"
The Prince looked hopeful. "She is fond of me. I am certain that the objection has nothing to do with my person. But she is a strict Catholic and this is at the heart of the matter. How lucky those of you are who are not born royal. You can marry where you will. You do not have to be dictated to. You are not at the beck and call of an old tyrant. The State does not decide with whom you shall spend your life, who shall bear your children. Oh, you most fortunate people. They will soon be trying to marry me to some hideous German woman. I know it. I shall be expected to fawn on her and pretend to be in love with her. I tell you there is no one I want but Maria ... Maria ... Maria!"
Charles said: "There must be a way. We will find it, Your Highness."
The Prince's smile was immediately sunny. "You will, Charles, I know you will, my dear good friend. I don't know what I should do without you, and you too, Lizzie. God bless you both."
The Prince rode away from Chertsey in a happier state of mind from that in which he had come, but Charles was grave.
"The Guelphs," he said, "have always been able to turn on the tears at the least provocation; but this is a perpetual flow. I don't like it, Liz. He's getting desperate. God knows what he will do. He's capable of the utmost folly. Why can't he have the sense to fall in love with a nice sensible whore. Why does he have to choose this respectable, deeply religious, highly virtuous matron?"
"What are you going to suggest to him?"
"God knows. I saw marriage in his eye. You heard what he said about the hideous German. It shows which way his thoughts are turning. This will give Papa a hundred sleepless nights where he suffered but twenty before"
"He can't marry Maria Fitzherbert. What about the Marriage Act? It wouldn't be a legal marriage."
"No, and the woman's not only a Catholic. She's a Tory."
"He surely would never go over to them. It would mean being on the side of the King."
"I think his desire for Maria is greater than his hatred of his father. Most definitely we are up against a tricky situation. Action will have to be taken in a very short time."
"At least," said Lizzie, "sorrow does not affect his weight. I thought he was going to break my chair when he sat there creaking on it."
"Your very humble chair, Liz."
"At least," said Lizzie with an air of pride, "it is paid for."
"Oh, admirable Lizzie. If only H.R.H. were as lucky in love as I!"
Charles was going to help him and that was something; but this was a devilishly tricky situation and he decided to call in the help of his dearest Duchess.
Georgiana received him with great sympathy and when he had wept a little in her beautiful drawing room at Devonshire House, which was very different from that in Chertsey, he demanded of Georgiana what he was going to do.
Georgiana shook her head. "Maria seems adamant."
He covered his face with his hands.
"Dearest Highness, there must be a way out of this."
"What, Georgiana, what?"
Georgiana was silent. Why had the woman come to Court? Why had she not married another old husband and stayed in the country nursing him? That was the life which would suit her. She was beautiful in her way, thought Georgiana, but there was nothing especially wonderful about her. Her nose was too long and prominent anyway ... quite an aggressive nose. Georgiana wondered that the Prince couldn't see it. When she thought of her own rather pert and pretty nose, her own beauty ... she could not understand it. Why should he have to be so enamoured of this ... matron? There was no other word for her. She had not born children but she was like a mother. She would be fat in a few years time, Georgiana prophesied. And she must be nearly twenty-nine. Thirty, possibly, and he was twenty-two! It was a ridiculous situation. It was not that Georgiana disliked Maria Fitzherbert. Far from it. She was an interesting and pleasant creature. But she was a little tiresome in her vinue. After all, a love affair with the Prince of Wales would not have impaired it all that much, and what she lost in virtue she would have gained in prestige.
Poor dear Prince, he was so distrait and he was such a darling spoilt boy who was bewildered because here was a woman who did not fall to his grasp as soon as he held up his pleading hands.
She, Georgiana, had refused him, and that had kept him eager for her; but this was different; he was obsessed with Maria Fitzherbert as he never had been for the Duchess of Devonshire.
Still, she must not allow her pique to interfere with her friendship because she was discovering that she really was genuinely fond of him.