"And Augusta is the lady you have married?"
Augustus nodded. "Lady Augusta Murray. She is beautiful and witty, George."
"Of course," said George sympathetically.
"I asked her to marry me and at first she refused, but at last she gave in. We were married by a clergyman of the English church there ... a man named Gunn."
"Whatever his name was is not going to help you, brother," said the Prince sadly.
"We were married without witnesses and when we told Augusta's mother she talked about the Marriage Act and said we should keep it secret and we did ... and as Augusta was going to have a child when we came to England we were married again at St. George's in Hanover Square. George, what am I going to do?"
The Prince said: "If I were King you would be in no difficulty whatsoever. But I'm not, Augustus; and I think there is only one thing you can do and that is go to the King and beg his leniency. After all, you're the fifth son. It's not like being myself or Fred or even William."
"Is there nothing else I can do?"
"I cannot see what, Augustus. If I could help, I would, but you know how I am received there. I should go and see the King. Explain to him and for God's sake try to keep out of our mother's way. She's become a virago. If you try to persuade the King that he must accept this marriage, who knows, you might succeed."
"I might explain," said Augustus, "that Augusta is of royal blood; she's connected with Henry VII and William of Orange. Surely that should count."
"Of course it will, Augustus. Go and talk to our father. I am sure you will put your case to him in a way he will understand. And the best of luck. I wish I could do more. When I am king I will do something for my family ... find husbands for the girls and repeal that obnoxious Act. You sec."
"George, if only ..."
The brothers clasped hands, and with George's good wishes ringing in his ears. Augustus set out to face his father.
It was impossible to see the King alone and when he and the Queen heard Augustus' story they made no secret of their anger.
The King wailed to Heaven, asking what he had done to deserve such sons. George, living with Mrs. Fitzherbert, married or not he did not know—and either was equally disgraceful; William was living with a play-actress. And now Augustus had dared do this wicked thing. Even Frederick was creating scandals by not living with his wife and letting it be known that she preferred dogs and monkeys to him. But this was shocking, quite shocking. Had Augustus never heard of the Marriage Act?
Augustus had.
And did he not know that by going through a ceremony of marriage without the King's consent he was breaking the law?
Augustus did know it.
And yet he had done it! He had defied the law and his father!
Well, he would see what would happen. This marriage would be annulled.
The Queen said: "I suppose this is the influence of the Prince of Wales."
"George has been kind to me," stammered Augustus. "No one could be kinder than George."
It was the worst thing he could have said. So the Prince of Wales was behind this, was he? He was supporting Augustus in his disobedience. It was to be expected.
"It is his example," said the Queen. "You are making the King ill."
Augustus began to breathe with difficulty and the King was alarmed for his son, so the Queen peremptorily dismissed him; and when he had gone she led the King back to his apartments and said he should not be worried by such affairs and should leave them to her and his ministers.
The whole Court and the whole of the country was talking of the marriage of the Duke of Sussex and Lady Augusta Murray; but while the fate of the two was considered, that of the Prince and Maria was in everyone's mind.
The King had announced his intention of having the marriage annulled as it could not be legal since it was a breach of the law. The Court of Privileges was instructed to give a verdict and it became a test case; the Court agreed that the ceremonies which had taken place in Rome and in England were null and void. Augustus was deeply distressed; he implored the King to allow him to give up any right to the succession, but this the King refused.
Augustus was not married and his child was illegitimate.
His brothers consoled him, particularly the Prince of Wales.
"Ignore the ruling," said the Prince. "Set up house together. I will see that you are received wherever you wish to go and once I have ascended the throne ..."
Augustus thanked him, but he was bitterly unhappy.
Throughout the Court they discussed the case.
Then, it was said, if the Prince and Maria actually did go through a form of marriage they are not, by the law of the land, man and wife.
What could be clearer than that?
Lady Augusta belonged to one of the highest families in the land; she could trace her descent to royalty; and yet she was not acceptable because the King had not given his consent.
How much less acceptable would be Maria Fitzherbert, for her so-called husband was the Prince of Wales.
This was indeed a test case. Maria Fitzherbert would never be regarded in law as the Prince's wife.
No one was more aware of the implications than Maria herself, who saw clearly that she would never be acknowledged.
She was worried. Her position was becoming unendurable. The Prince was growing closer to Lady Jersey. She saw him rarely now, and when they did meet there was friction between them. He, because he wished to placate his conscience, seemed eager to make a shrew of her; and she, anxious and fretful, could not control her temper.
The happy days were over. Crisis loomed ahead.
The Fateful Decision
The Prince drove his phaeton through the Park. People standing about in groups looked at him in silence. There were no cheers. How different it had become. He remembered how they used to jostle each other for a glimpse of him.
"God bless the Prince of Wales!" He had heard it so constantly that he had grown tired of it. How he would like to hear it now!
He heard a shout of "Papist woman ..." and he urged the horses to a greater speed.
It had all changed. The people no longer loved him.
He called on Lady Jersey. When he had embraced her she regarded him with some amusement and asked him what had happened.
Happened?" he cried. "What do you mean?"
"I can see you are disturbed. Pray tell me."
She knelt at his feet and raised her beautiful eyes to his face in a gesture of mock supplication. How different from Maria who would have been truly concerned. But when he tried to imagine Maria in such a position he thought how ridiculous she would look. Frances was so willowy, so graceful.
"It's nothing," he said. "Merely that riding through the Park just now I thought the people looked hostile."
Frances was on her feet and perching on the arm of his chair.
Maria would have soothed him. Frances said: "Of course they are hostile! They're learning to hate Your Highness."
She was indeed a disturbing woman—like a wasp ... no, a beautiful dragonfly whose wings are of the most exquisite colours, who flies and hovers with a fascinating grace and has a sting in the tail.
"Why in God's name?"
"Very, very simple. Because you have displeased them."
"I ... what have I done to them? I have always smiled on them, talked to them whenever possible. I suppose it is my mother's spies who have been circulating stories about me."
Frances smiled. She was, in a manner of speaking, one of those spies, for Lady Harcourt had conveyed to her the Queen's wishes. How clever of her to be the friend of the Queen and the inamorata of the Prince of Wales ... all at the same time.
"You have provided the material for those spies to work on, my dear one."