‘Wouldn’t she?’ demanded the Prince.

‘It could never happen. Dora and I are like a man and his wife.’

‘By God,’ cried the Prince. ‘So was I with Maria. But Frances Jersey… she was irresistible. Surely Maria could have understood that. But she was too virtuous, my Maria. It meant that she had little understanding. But what a devil of a temper. She was magnificent in her rages. And she was always so damned independent. It was always If you want to go, Go. But I never did want to go, William.’

‘But you did,’ persisted William. ‘You left her for Lady Jersey.’

‘This is not the time to remember it.’

‘Perhaps it is not the time to remember either of them.’

‘Oh, God, now you have reminded me of that… creature.’

‘I don’t think,’ said William, ‘that she has ever been far from your mind.’

‘William, what am I going to do?’

‘Either marry her or refuse.’

The Prince laughed aloud. ‘My dear William, you are brilliant, brilliant! But I have asked you to come here tonight for a reason. I want you to go to Maria. I want you to tell her that you have been here tonight. I want you to tell her what state I am in. And say this to her: “Mrs Fitzherbert, he asked me to tell you this: ‘You are the only woman he will ever love.’” Perhaps then she will have some regrets. Perhaps she will wish she took the trouble to come to the window, to comfort me in this nightmare, this terrible ordeal.’

‘I will take your message to her,’ said William. ‘And tomorrow…’

‘Tomorrow,’ said the Prince, ‘I shall have come to my decision. Good-night, William. Thank you for coming. Lucky William, with your happy home, with your dear Dora, your delightful children. Have you ever thought, William, what a lucky man you are.’

‘I often think it,’ said William. ‘And if you had kept with Mrs Fitzherbert…’

Dear William, best brother in the world, thought the Prince of Wales, but singularly lacking in tact.

The next day the Prince was married. He had fortified himself with brandy to face his ordeal and once during the ceremony he rose from his knees and made as if to walk away. But the King was beside him, forcing him to kneel again, determined that having gone so far there should be no turning back.

William discussed the ceremony with Dorothy and told her that it broke his heart to see dear George in such a melancholy state.

‘He was so drunk that it was hard to keep him standing, so Bedford told me, and he should know for he was one of the Dukes who stood on either side of him… very close, I can assure you, to prop him up. His eyes were quite glassy and he didn’t look at her once.’

‘Poor Princess,’ said Dorothy. ‘I wonder how she feels.’

‘Glad to have escaped that little place she comes from, no doubt. It’s a bit of a madhouse there, I hear; and she herself seems tainted with the family complaint. I can only hope that she’ll be pregnant in a few days and then he’ll be free of her.’

‘It makes one glad one is not a Princess,’ said Dorothy. ‘Not that I should wish to be anyone but myself.’

They heard the rumours later. The Princess Caroline of Wales let it be known that her husband had spent their wedding night under the grate, so drunk that he was oblivious of the world.

William called at Mrs Fitzherbert’s London house where her friend and faithful companion, Miss Pigot, took him into her pleasant drawing room with the blue satin-covered walls and told him that her mistress would attend on him immediately.

William bowed as Mrs Fitzherbert came into the room. His eyes filled with tears; he had always been fond of her, and like his brother, Frederick, had deplored the breaking up of her relationship with the Prince.

‘My dear William, how good of you to call on me.’

‘He asked me to come.’

‘The Prince!’ Her face hardened and the colour in her delicately tinted complexion, one of her greatest attractions and which owed nothing to rouge and white lead, deepened slightly.

‘He has been most distressed.’

‘To marry when one already has a wife would be disturbing to most people, I’ll swear.’

‘He looks upon you as his wife, Maria. He always did.’

‘I suppose,’ she said, ‘that is why he is living with Lady Jersey and marrying the Princess Caroline. But pray sit down, William. I will send for some refreshment. You must tell me how life is with you.’

‘I came to talk of him… at his request.’

‘You mean he sent you.’

‘He asked me to come and tell you that you will always be the only woman he ever loved.’

She was moved but attempted to hide the fact. ‘He always loved drama.’

‘He meant it.’

‘Of course he did while he said it. He always means his parts. That is why he plays them so well. He should have been on the stage.’

‘He is suffering.’

‘If he is it is due to his folly.’

‘But that doesn’t make him any the less pitiable.’

Maria Fitzherbert thought: William is growing up. The crude sailor was disappearing; it was the effect of his life with Mrs Jordan, she supposed. Poor woman, how long did she think that would last? How long could Princes be expected to be faithful?

She said, ‘I heard you had another son.’

‘Henry. You should see Henry. And Master George is just a little jealous. He is at pains all the time to remind us that he is our firstborn.’

She smiled. The family man! And he was content. She sensed that in him.

Well, had not George been the same in the first years? These royal brothers had a certain charm – even William had – although he was not nearly as elegant, fastidious and civilized as George; but there was an unworldliness about William which was not unattractive. Perhaps he might settle into the life of domesticity which he had chosen to live with his actress. He would in any case not have to face the same temptation for he was, after all, not the Prince of Wales.

‘I am sure you are very proud of your little boys,’ she said; and she thought: If we had had children would it have made any difference? He was still the Prince of Wales and would have had to marry for State reasons.

‘You illuminated your house last night to celebrate the wedding,’ said William.

‘What did you expect me to do? Plunge into darkness so that all should say I had gone into mourning for the loss of a husband? Though in truth I had already lost him. He left me, you remember, for Lady Jersey.’

‘He is most unhappy. He talks of you continually.’

‘To the Princess Caroline? Or to Lady Jersey?’

‘He never talks to the Princess. He cannot bear to be near her and I am sure he would never discuss you with Lady Jersey.’

She turned to him. ‘My dear William, you have always been a good brother to me and I thank you for coming along to me today. You thought to comfort me, I know, but I have finished with him. He has gone from my life. I have started afresh and it is as though I had never known him.’

He looked at her disbelievingly. How could that ever be? Whenever romantic affairs of the Prince of Wales were discussed the name of Mrs Fitzherbert would always arise.

‘I could not tell him that now when he is in need of comfort.’

‘Dear William,’ she replied. ‘I will leave it to you to say what you will.’

When he took his leave he decided to write to his brother who was on honeymoon at Windsor – poor George, what a dreadful ordeal!

Maria Fitzherbert stood at her window watching his carriage drive away and Miss Pigot came into the room. This lady was no ordinary companion; she had been with Maria since the beginning of her relationship with the Prince of Wales and had suffered and rejoiced through all their vicissitudes. She loved them both and it was a great tragedy to her when they had parted.

‘So the Duke of Clarence came to see you. Did he bring a message?’

Maria turned round. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘It’s like him, don’t you think! He sends his brother after the ceremony to tell me that I am the only woman he ever loved.’

‘It’s true,’ said Miss Pigot.’

‘We have had such proof of it,’ put in Maria sarcastically.

‘Yes, we have.’

‘Lady Jersey for instance. And now this marriage?’

‘Now, Maria, be sensible. The marriage had to be for State reasons.’

‘And Lady Jersey?’

‘Well, he wouldn’t have left you for her. It was you who left him.’

‘Did you think I was going to remain to be… insulted.’

‘No, I didn’t. But he would have come back.’

‘I don’t wish to discuss him and his affairs. Let him go to Lady Jersey. Let him marry. I’m just sorry for this poor Princess. I wouldn’t be in her shoes for anything.’

‘Nor would I… from what I hear. And seeing that he’s in love with another woman.’

‘Romantic old Piggy,’ said Maria affectionately. ‘I wonder how long it will last for Mrs Jordan?’

‘He’s a nice boy – William.’

‘They’re all nice boys, but not faithful boys, you know. They have another son – did you hear?’

‘Yes, and living very quietly there at Petersham Lodge.’

‘And she acts now and then for large sums of money so perhaps she’ll keep him out of debt.’

‘They say that her money keeps the establishment going.’

‘He’ll get into debt, never fear. It’s a family habit. Frederick will be the next. They were brought up to grow wheat and do worsted work. Did you know that? George told me about it once. I think all that discipline decided them to run wild when they had a chance. Perhaps that should be blamed.’

‘Well, I hope the poor Prince is not too unhappy, and that William goes on being as contented as he is now.’