He read Maria’s letter once more:
The constant state of anxiety I am perpetually kept in with respect to your proceedings, and the little satisfaction I experience when occasionally you make partial communications with me, have determined me to address you by letter.
You must be well aware of the misery we have both suffered for the past three or four years on a subject most painful to me, and to all those who are attached and interested about you. It has quite destroyed the entire comfort and happiness of both our lives; it has so completely destroyed mine that neither my health nor my spirits can bear it any longer. What am I to think of the inconsistency of your conduct when scarcely three weeks ago you voluntarily declared to me that this sad affair was quite at an end and in less than a week the whole business was begun all over again? The purport of my writing to you is to implore you to come to a resolution upon this business. You must decide, and that decision must be done immediately, that I may know what line to pursue. I beg your answer may be a written one to avoid all the unpleasant conversations upon a subject so heartrending to one whose whole life has been dedicated to you, and whose affection for you none can surpass.
He threw the letter down and stamped on it. He wanted to burst into tears and would have done so if there had been anyone there to witness the depth of his emotion. How could Maria behave like this? Why could she not be patient with him? All he asked her to do was act as chaperon because Lady Hertford insisted.
His page was at the door. His brother the Duke of York was asking to be admitted.
The Prince picked up the letter, put it into a drawer and turned to greet Frederick.
Frederick’s woebegone face told the Prince immediately that his brother had troubles and he was probably going to be denied the luxury of bemoaning his own.
Frederick burst out as soon as they were alone: ‘George, I’m in the most fearful mess. It’s that fellow Wardle. He’s one of Edward’s men. They’re going to ask a question in the House.’
‘What about, for God’s sake?’
‘Well, there was a woman I was on terms with … pretty creature. It’s a long time since we parted but it seems they’ve got hold of her. She’d been selling commissions in the Army.’
The Prince stared at his brother. ‘Good God, Fred. What have you got yourself into?’
‘That,’ said Frederick, ‘remains to be seen.’
‘Can nothing be done to stop this?’
Frederick shook his head. ‘Wardle’s determined. Behaving like a self-righteous martyr. Nothing is going to stop him. This is Edward’s doing.’
‘Our own brother – surely not! I can’t believe it.’
‘Oh, Edward’s changed. He’s become embittered. It was that Gibraltar business. He doesn’t forgive me for recalling him. He wants to show he’s a better soldier than I am. He’d like to be Commander-in-Chief, I don’t doubt. George, what am I going to do?’
The Prince was silent He would do anything for his brother, but what help could he offer? Once they started asking questions in the House one had to take the consequences. He remembered when a question had been asked in that holy of holies by some bumbling old country member which had led to Fox’s denial of his marriage with Maria. And look what trouble that had caused.
He looked at Frederick helplessly. ‘Fred, if there’s anything I can do …’
Frederick grasped his hands. They could always rely on each other; of all the brothers they had been the closest, and they were almost as horrified by Edward’s treachery as by the situation itself.
They both knew that the least that could happen to Frederick would be to lose his position in the Army.
Trouble, thought the Prince. Just trouble all round. So the storm broke. There had rarely been such a scandal in the royal family. Colonel Wardle, as he had threatened, delivered his bombshell in the House, doing as he declared ‘his duty’ to the Army and the country.
The people were both outraged and amused. Yet another indiscreet love affair of the royal family. One had to admit they were entertaining. Even the stolid Duke of Kent had a mistress, although he lived most respectably with her, as did Clarence with Dorothy Jordan. Now they were going to hear something of the adventures of the Duke of York.
Within the royal family as throughout the country the main topic of conversation was the Army scandal.
The King had grown visibly older and more incoherent.
‘I can’t believe this of Frederick,’ he told the Queen. ‘If it had been George …’
‘George would never have been such a fool as that,’ insisted the Queen. But would he? she wondered. These sons of hers seemed capable of the utmost follies over women.
‘Frederick,’ babbled the King. ‘Hope of the House … Best of the bunch, eh, what?’
‘It’s to be hoped not,’ retorted the Queen. ‘If he is the best, heaven help the rest.’
‘Why do they do these things, eh? What happens to them? They have no sense of duty. It makes me think we failed somewhere … in the way we brought them up, eh, what?’
‘Your Majesty was always the strictest of fathers,’ replied the Queen, determined not to take the blame. He was the one who had laid down the laws; he had never allowed her to disagree with him. Often she had wanted to protest against the canings that had been administered. It had turned them against him, she was sure; it had made them wild. It was never good to restrict high-spirited young people too much. Yes, it was his fault, silly old man. She could scarcely be sorry for him; she had never loved him; but she was concerned now for his health for if he broke down it could mean a Regency and when that had almost happened before (and would have been established but for the King’s recovery) she and her eldest son had become the bitterest of enemies.
So she tried to soothe him.
‘This woman seems to be an adventuress. Perhaps she is not telling the truth.’
‘Adventuresses! Why do they get themselves mixed up with adventuresses, eh, what?’
‘I don’t think William’s actress is exactly that. From all accounts she seems to be keeping him. And Edward’s Madame de St Laurent is a very worthy creature. As for Maria Fitzherbert, Your Majesty has always had a certain admiration for her. And Lady Hertford, whom George seems to be pursuing now, is very jealous of her reputation. So they are not all mixed up with adventuresses – although I do agree with Your Majesty that these liaisons are not exactly desirable.’
‘And there’s the Princess of Wales …’
‘Oh, she is a monster! And to think that she is Charlotte’s mother. I hope and pray the child doesn’t take after her. Although I must say Charlotte often causes me misgivings.’
‘She’s a sweet child. I am fond of my granddaughter.’
‘She needs a great deal of correction, I do assure Your Majesty. The Princesses and I are deeply concerned. Now if you please she has shown a tendency to make particular friendships. We shall have to watch over her very carefully.’
Anything, thought the Queen, any topic to turn his mind from this terrible affair of Frederick’s.
And she had managed it. The King’s mind wandered so much nowadays. She had set him thinking of Charlotte who for all her faults was a pleasanter subject than Frederick’s horrible affair with this low woman.