Ah, sighed Miss Pigot to herself. If only that were true.
William, Duke of Clarence, received her with the deference he would show to the Princess of Wales. All the Prince's brothers were her friends; and even though there was a coldness between Frederick and the Prince of Wales—because of Frederick's wife's treatment of her—that had not prevented Frederick's remaining her very good friend.
The company was awaiting the arrival of the Prince of Wales, none more eagerly than Maria. She was always excited at that moment when he entered a room—so graceful, and in spite of the fact that he was putting on weight alarmingly, so elegant. A prince—every inch of him, she thought with pride.
Oh, this affair will be over like the others and then the reconciliation.
But they must stop. They impair his dignity no less than mine. I shall be firm. I shall tell him that they must stop and that this is the last time I will tolerate his infidelities. If he does not remain my faithful husband I shall leave him. I shall go abroad again. Where? To France? Oh, not that pitiable country! To Switzerland, perhaps.
Where was the Prince? William was puzzled. He had promised to come most definitely.
Something must have happened to detain him. And here was a messenger with letters. One for William and one for Maria. So he has remembered to send a message to his wife, thought Maria with satisfaction.
She opened hers. The words in that familiar handwriting would not make sense. Such words were impossible. They could not be true, for they told her that he would never enter her house again.
She smiled faintly. They must not guess ... not yet, though of course they would soon know.
So ... she was dismissed. She was treated as a mistress of whom he had tired. His vows were to be discarded.
It wasn't true. It was a phase inspired by that wicked Jersey woman.
William was looking at her in some consternation. She smiled.
"So the Prince is unable to attend," she said. "Shall we go into dinner?" replied the Duke.
Sensing calamity, Miss Pigot was waiting for her when she returned.
"Maria ... Maria ... my dearest Maria what has happened?"
"It is the end. He is never coming here again."
"It can't be true."
"He has given me my ... dismissal."
"No, no. I can't believe it."
"Read this, then."
Miss Pigot read it; then she threw herself on to a couch and covered her face with her hands.
"Be calm, Pig," said Maria. "We should have seen this coming."
"That woman ..."
"Is no ordinary woman."
"He'll come back. There have been quarrels before."
"Too many quarrels."
"Oh, Maria, Maria ... What shall you do?"
"I have to think. I have to think very clearly."
Quickly, thought the Prince. Before I change my mind. I dare not pause to think. I dare not look back now.
He went to see the King and naturally the Queen was present.
"I have made up my mind to marry," he said.
The King smiled. "That is good ... sound good sense, eh, what? The people will be pleased. We shouldn't delay."
"Fortunately," said the Queen, "there is a charming Princess available—talented, beautiful and a Protestant. I refer to my niece, Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz."
Her niece! thought the Prince. Never. One woman from Mecklenburg-Strelitz is enough!
"You are very fortunate indeed," said the King. "You have a choice. My niece or the Queen's. Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, daughter of the Queen's brother, or Caroline of Brunswick, daughter of my sister. And once your promise has been given officially to accept one of these ladies there will be no hesitation in the settlement of those debts."
A choice, thought the Prince. And one German frau was as good as another.
The Queen was looking eager. Oh, how much she wanted him to take her niece I No, Madam, you should have behaved differently if you had wanted concessions from me. Certainly I'll not take your niece. It will have to be this other. Caroline of Brunswick. He was beginning to hate her already!
The King was patting him on the shoulder. Everything was going to be all right now. The Prince had come to his senses.
All sow wild oats when we're young, thought the King. No longer a boy. People will be pleased. Debts paid, settle down, produce an heir. Rather late but better late than never. All that talk of marriage with that woman ... good woman, but of course no marriage ... all that over and done with.
"Good, good, eh, what?" said the King. "Mustn't lose any time. Go ahead now ... Summon Pitt ... Country will be pleased."
The Prince sought comfort with Frances. He had been wise, she told him. So had she. The Queen was delighted with her. She would be very well received at Court; and her position as Prince's mistress would be unimpaired by the marriage. Madame Caroline would have to accept Lady Jersey.
He would see the change in the attitude of the people when his betrothal was announced, she assured him. And soon he would be married, for they would lose no time in bringing Caroline over.
The Queen was furious because he had not chosen her niece so that gave him some satisfaction. But all the time he was thinking of Maria. He rehearsed what he would say to her.
"It had to be. The people expected it. A Prince of Wales must constantly consider the people. You understand, Maria. You must understand." That note about not entering her house again. Of course he hadn't meant it. She should have known he hadn't meant it. She was his true wife. He would never forget it. This was just a State affair. She must understand. He could never be completely happy unless she did.
Maria heard the news. The Prince of Wales was to marry Caroline of Brunswick.
She did not rage against him; she was very calm, but this frightened Miss Pigot more than her rage would have done. She was broken-hearted, poor Maria, because whatever she said of him, however much she quarrelled with him, she loved him.
And he had told her publicly as clearly as he could that he did not consider her his wife.
"I should have known, Piggy" she said. "It was clear, wasn't it, when Fox denied the marriage in the House of Commons? He accepted that then. He never meant to acknowledge me. Oh, Piggy, I have been so foolish ... so fond and foolish."
"It will be all right, Maria. He'll come back. He will come back. I know it."
"I shan't be here. We're going away. We're going at once."
"But where?"
"What does it matter? It only matters that we are gone ... should he come back. But he won't, Pig. He will never enter this house again. He has said it."
"He will," said Miss Pigot firmly. "He will."
The Prince came to the house in Pall Mall. The furniture was covered with dust sheets; the blinds drawn.
"Mrs. Fitzherbert has left, Your Highness."
"Where has she gone? Where? Where?"
"She left no information, sir"
So she had gone, deserted him, and he was left alone to face this situation.
How could she have treated him so. Tears filled his eyes. Maria ... his wife.
He went back to Carlton House. They were showing him portraits of a pretty girl, the German Princess who was to be his wife.
I have never been so wretched in my life, he said. No one could comfort him. Lady Jersey? He was only fascinated by her. Maria should have known that. It was the comfort Maria alone could give him that he wanted. Why couldn't she understand?
But he was a prince, and a Prince of Wales, and he had given his word to marry.
Soon his bride would be here and he must do his duty.
In Switzerland Maria heard that the Princess Caroline of Brunswick was coming to England to be married to the Prince of Wales.
"This is the end, Piggy" she said. "This is the final repudiation"