'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 ...'
Augstus 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.'
'I, Frances? By God, you go too far.'
'That is why you love me,' she told him. 'I go that little farther ... in all things. Is it not so?'
'Frances, you are a devil.'
'So much more interesting than the angels, do you not agree?'
'Oh, stop this. What can I do? Do you know at one time they only had to see my face to set them cheering.'
'I know, I know. But then you had not accumulated a mountain of debts ... or they didn't know of it.'
'I had. I have always accumulated debts. It's due to the miserable allowance I'm given.'
'The first time they're lenient. Prince Charming ... dear extravagant Prince Charming! But even Princes can bore with repetition.'
But she was not eager to talk of his debts because she was an avaricious woman and she believed that the Prince should pay handsomely for the services she gave him.
So she said: 'You are growing old.
'I am nine years younger than you are.'
'Which is why you lack my experience. But my age is of no