Never! thought Lady Jersey. Caroline might not suit the Prince but she suited her purposes perfectly.

‘It is for him to say,’ went on the Queen triumphantly.

‘Madam, what are your instructions regarding the Princess?’

‘Watch her. If she writes to her home, I should like to see the letters before they are sent. I should like to have reports of her conversation. I gather she is a very indiscreet young woman.’

‘Alas, Your Majesty that’s very true.’

‘We shall see what happens. In the meantime keep me informed. And if the opportunity arises to advise the Prince, you may be able to make him aware that it is not yet too late.’

Lady Jersey said that it was her great pleasure to serve Her Majesty.

The Prince paced up and down his silk-lined drawing room and declared: ‘I cannot marry the woman. The very thought of it makes me ill.’

Lady Jersey looked at him sadly. ‘You could never draw back now.’

‘Why not? Why should I not?’

‘The proxy ceremony has taken place.’

‘A pox on the proxy ceremony! I have not made any promises to the woman.’

‘It would be an international incident if she were sent home now.’

‘Little Brunswick! Need we fear that petty little place?’

‘There are your debts.’

‘I would take another wife if necessary, but not this one.’

Lady Jersey’s eyes narrowed. Another wife? The alluring Louise. It was just what the Queen was hoping for. Her own niece to form an alliance with her— the wives of the King and the Prince would rule together. The poor, kind, weak- minded King whose mind often went wandering and the pleasure loving Prince of Wales to be ruled by the ladies of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. And what of Lady Jersey? How would an attractive young wife deal with a mistress who for all her charms was an ageing woman?

She knew the Prince. If he succeeded in throwing off Caroline, he would think her successor desirable and beautiful merely because of the comparison.

My God, she thought, what a trial I have to keep my place! Did Fitzherbert go through all this? But she was wily and she enjoyed the game really. It was a great pleasure to work with the Queen— or to allow the Queen to think she was working with her — when all the time she was playing her own game.

Then she said: ‘And what of the people?’

‘The people. What have they to do with my marriage?’

‘Everything that concerns their future King concerns the people. They are already showing sympathy for the Princess.’

‘Why should they?’

‘You know what the people are. They imagine someone is in distress and out comes the sympathy. I think that if you sent Caroline home you would make her into a martyr and in doing so you would become very unpopular.’

That startled him. He longed to be popular. He often thought of the old days when he had been Prince Charming and so handsome, the days before he grew so fat. Everywhere he went the people had cheered him. He longed for a return of that popularity.

Lady Jersey smiled secretly and she was glad: he would refuse to marry the girl and then they could bring Louise over.

‘I feel I cannot go on with it.’

The Queen put in: ‘You know, George, it is for you to say whether you can marry this Princess or not.’

‘I cannot marry her,’ said the Prince.

‘The King will tell you that it is for you to say,’ reiterated the Queen The King nodded. ‘No one can make you marry if you do not wish to. But you have to consider the reason for the proposed marriage. It is a condition of the Parliament, eh, what? No marriage— no payment of debts. What are you going to do then, eh? Creditors getting impatient? They’ll be in Carlton House if we say no marriage. It will only take that.’

‘I cannot marry her. I cannot.’ The Prince was striking his forehead dramatically. But the thought of those debts, the total of which he dared not contemplate, and the effect his jilting of the Princess would have on the people, made him realize that there was no other way out.

He talked to his friends. He could not stop talking. They all knew of the revulsion the Princess Caroline aroused in him and in the clubs the betting against the marriage’s taking place was high.

‘He won’t do it, they said. ‘He can’t face it.’

And the Prince said to himself, ‘Can I face marrying her? Can I face not marrying her?’

There was one, of course, who might have decided for him. He thought of her often. Maria. Why had she not understood that he had not meant it when he had said he would not see her again? She should have wept and stormed. It was what he had expected. Instead, that silence, and then her leaving the country.

But she was back now. She was at Marble Hill. She was his sweet lass of Richmond Hill as she had been in-the old days— and always would be.

He could have talked to Maria as he never could to Lady Jersey. He had never loved Frances Jersey. She had fascinated him— still did to a certain extent — but it was Maria he wanted.

She had struck the right note. He would go through with this marriage for he realized how right she was.

The people would be against him if he treated Caroline so churlishly.

He looked grim. He could see that there was nothing to be done but marriage and yet— Who knew, some miracle might happen.

Caroline lifted her eyes to the protuberant ones of her uncle. There at least she saw kindness.

‘Welcome to England, my dear,’ he said in German, which was comforting.

‘We are happy that you are joining the family.’

She could have hugged him and almost did— until she remembered that he was the King. This was the brother of whom her mother had talked so often— George who had a kind heart and addled head.

And now the Queen. Caroline was startled by the venom in the face of the little woman who was Queen of England. She is ugly, thought Caroline, and they were right when they said I should beware of her, for she hates me. She was bidding her welcome in English but that was no welcome. Queen Charlotte had no friendliness, no warmth to offer the stranger. Caroline had come without her blessing and she had no intention of pretending that it was otherwise.

And there were the Princesses who quite clearly took their cue from their mother.

This is my new family, thought Caroline.

The Prince called on the King and Queen to express his feelings forcibly.

‘The thought of marriage with Caroline fills me with horror,’ he declared.

‘She is the most unattractive woman I ever saw.’

‘She seems a pleasant sort of young woman,’ said the King. ‘I thought she was good looking— in a way. Surely you exaggerate, eh, what?’

The Queen watched her husband and son slyly. The Prince was really distressed, there was no doubt about that.

He sent for his phaeton and rode out. He drove wildly and the horses were heading for Richmond.

Miss Pigot saw the well-known phaeton. ‘Maria,’ she called, ‘he has come.

He is here.’

Maria came running into her drawing room crying: ‘What are you saying?’

‘He rode past just now. I saw him clearly.’

‘He rode by,’ said Maria sadly.

‘He will come back. He has ridden by in the hope of seeing you.’

Maria took her stand at the window— to the side so that she could see and not be seen.

‘Are you sure?’

Miss Pigot nodded. ‘Poor, poor darling. He is so unhappy. All he needs is a sign from you.’

Maria shook her head. ‘It is I who need the sign.’

‘This is it. He is coming back to you. He has come to tell you so.’

‘Then why ride by?’

‘Because he wants that sign from you. He wants you to bid him come in, to make him welcome.’

‘He was never so coy, before, my dear.’

‘He is begging you to take him back.’

‘I have not noticed it. A strange way to beg. To become betrothed when he already has a wife.’

‘Oh, Maria, don’t turn your back on happiness.’

‘I tell you it is for him to say. Have not the decisions always been his? As for myself, I must just wait.’

‘He is coming again. He is coming back. I can hear the horses.’

‘Stand away from the window.’

‘It is for you to stand there. To beckon him as he passes.’

Maria stood very still, hidden from sight. She did not move. The phaeton drove past but she was aware that the pace of the horses slackened as they approached.

Was he in truth waiting for that sign?

I cannot give it, she thought. How can I? I am his wife. What does he want? For me to go back to him, to acknowledge myself his mistress? ‘He has gone,’ said Miss Pigot. ‘But perhaps he will come again.’

He did— twice past the house; and on each occasion Maria stood at the window, waiting, hoping, but not showing herself.

She gave no sign and he rode back to Carlton House.

But she kept thinking of him, riding out to Richmond. Surely it must have been because he hoped she would welcome him to her house. She thought of the vows of eternal fidelity he had made to her. She believed herself to be his wife.

Did he believe her to be?

She would know the answer to that question in a few days’ time. If he refused to marry the Princess Caroline she would know that he considered he had a wife already, and since he had come to Richmond could that mean that he wished the world to know it?

The Prince had had a sleepless night, but when he awoke on that Wednesday morning of the 8th of April, he knew he must go on with the marriage.