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The Prince and the Quakeress
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Текст книги "The Prince and the Quakeress "


Автор книги: Jean Plaidy



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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

‘A pleasant part of the country, I believe. You should enjoy staying there.’

Elizabeth was startled. Was that a command?

‘Now you may leave me.’

Elizabeth was alarmed. She knew what would happen. She had seen it before. She would retire to her apartments, and in a very short time a messenger would come to her with the news that there was no longer a place for her in the Princess’s household and she would be expected to leave within a few hours. And once out it would be hard to come back. The King? He was getting old and tired. He might have forgotten that he had once found her attractive.

She must act quickly. She had always been impulsive; it was one of her great faults; but this was definitely an occasion when prompt action was necessary.

‘Your Highness...certain information has come to me which my loyalty to you demands I pass on...without delay.’

‘What?’

‘Madam, I scarcely know how to tell you. I fear it will be a great shock. It is a matter of the utmost gravity…’

‘What are you trying to say to me?’

‘It concerns the Prince.’

The Princess Dowager’s attitude had changed. She had suddenly realized that they were no longer discussing a maid of honour’s trivial misdemeanour, and she was a frightened woman.

Dare I? Elizabeth asked herself. But it was the only way. She must not tell him that I told...I must prevent that. And if she did? Well, then she could go to him when the storm had abated and tell him she had done it for the sake of the crown, the throne, the country.

She must create a diversion now...she must show that she could be useful to the Princess...otherwise a greater calamity than the Prince’s marriage would occur: Elizabeth Chudleigh would be expelled from Court.

She had made up her mind.

‘Your Highness, the Prince is married.’

The Princess Dowager had risen; she was speechless and reached blindly for the arm of her chair to steady herself.

‘I am sorry it is I who must give Your Highness such news.’

‘It is not possible...’ stammered the Princess, for this was the only state of affairs she could possibly tolerate.

‘Alas...Your Highness.’

‘How? When? To whom?’

‘A short while ago, Madam. He did not tell me the date. But he was married by Dr. Wilmot in Curzon Street to Hannah Lightfoot.’

‘The...the Quaker woman?’

‘Yes, Your Highness.’

‘I do not believe it. It is some fabrication. It is quite untrue. It would not be possible.’

‘Would Your Highness wish me to summon one of the maids to bring you some...stimulant? Your Highness seems in need...’

‘Summon no one. Is the door shut? Make sure that no one is near.’

‘Yes, Your Highness.’

‘Now...who has told you this...ridiculous falsehood?’

‘His Highness, the Prince.’

He has told you this?’

‘He confides in me, Madam. He finds me sympathetic. You will remember how useful I was able to be to Your Highness when he began this connection...because he himself had confided in me.’

The Princess picked up her fan absently and began to fan herself. She felt faint. It is not true, she kept telling herself. It could not possibly be true. I am dreaming, of course. This is a nightmare. I must wake up because this idea is intolerable...even in a dream.

‘He would never do such a thing,’ she said flatly.

Elizabeth was silent. If the Princess thought that she did not know her son. It was just the idiotic senseless chivalrous idealistic manner in which George would act.

‘He felt he owed marriage to the lady in view of their relationship, Your Highness. The lady is sick...and fears herself to be near death...she was in great mental torment because of this...relationship and the Prince believed that the only way to bring her peace of mind was to marry her.’

‘He has told you this...?’

‘Yes, Your Highness.’

Oh, George, you fool...you madman! thought his mother. Not only do you do this dreadful thing but you confide in this woman...this unscrupulous creature who is a born schemer and intriguer, not above a little blackmail. George, you are mad...quite mad. What are we going to do?

‘You had better tell me all you know.’

‘Your Highness, I have nothing more to tell you. All His Highness has told me is that the marriage has taken place.’

‘Has he told anyone else of this marriage?’

‘I think very few people know, Your Highness. His brother Edward...’

‘Edward!’

‘Who acted as a witness, Your Highness.’

‘Oh, my God!’

‘Then, of course, there is Dr. Wilmot. He did not mention any other.’

‘Of course I cannot believe such a story.’

‘But Your Highness will wish to find out whether there is any truth in it.’

‘Such silly rumours should always be proved false.’

Elizabeth could almost feel sorry for the woman. She really shaken; and the more she protested her disbelief the more plausible the story seemed to her.

‘Your Highness at least believes in my good faith.’

‘Your good faith?’

‘That I would not be so false or so foolish as to tell you that His Highness himself confessed this to me if he had not done so?’

The Princess was silent.

‘And may I ask Your Highness not to mention to His Highness that I have told you this?’

The insolence of this woman was past all bearing. But she must be careful. One must always be careful with blackmailers, and Elizabeth Chudleigh was an extremely subtle one; moreover, the information she had to hide was such which could make the kingdom rock.

‘If His Highness knew that I had told you he would no longer confide in me. I would wish to be loyal to His Highness and I have pondered on this; I have come to the conclusion that I can best serve His Highness by making this known to Your Highness, for I know that you will bring the discretion to settling this affair which is necessary to His Highness and the nation.’

The Princess did not answer.

‘Your Highness knows that I am entirely at your service,’ went on Elizabeth. ‘If in the action you will take you should need me to act for Your Highness in any way...if there is something which I may be able to discover...’

‘Yes, yes,’ said the Princess. ‘Leave me now and send to me...’

‘My Lord Bute?’ asked Elizabeth with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

But the Princess Dowager was too shaken to notice it.

• • •

She threw herself into his arms. ‘What are we to do? I cannot believe it...and yet I must. How could this have happened? Without telling us! He tells that...creature...and not us! Can you believe it?’

Lord Bute looked stunned. It certainly was disconcerting. The Prince, to whom he had believed himself to be so close, to have acted in this way and not told him!

But that was a small matter compared with the tremendous implication of all this.

‘Oh, John, do you think my son is mad?’

‘He is a fool,’ replied Bute savagely.

‘What are we going to do?’

‘We must think about it...clearly...calmly.’

‘Oh, my darling, what a comfort you are! I know you will understand how to deal with this matter. Should we send for him?’

‘By no means. That woman is right. We will say nothing to him.’

‘I could storm at him...whip him with my own hands.’

‘He is too big for that, Augusta...and he is the Prince of Wales. I fear of late I have made him realize the importance of his position. Perhaps I have been wrong. I have tried to make him into a King...which he may well be at any moment...and as a result he thinks he can act as he wishes without consulting me...us. Who would have believed he could have done this thing? But first we must prove that he has.’

‘He told her...Elizabeth Chudleigh...himself, John.’

‘And to tell that woman! What next? One act of folly on top of another!’

‘Could he have been joking, John?" asked the Princess, piteously hopeful.

‘Have you ever known him to joke? He doesn’t know what a joke is. But we are wasting time. We have got to think of how to act.’

‘How can we act? Think of it, John! That woman...that merchant’s daughter or whatever she is, is the Princess of Wales. She could tomorrow be Queen of England. Oh, what can we do?’

‘We must stop it. That much I know.’

‘How?’

‘That’s what we must discover.’

‘Can you see a way?’

‘Not at the moment. But it’s there, of course. There’s always a way.’

‘John, you don’t think we ought to advise Mr. Pitt or Newcastle.’

‘Never. No, no...no one must know of this. It has to be our secret...and, a curse on her, that woman Chudleigh.’

‘So we say nothing...not even to George?’

‘Most of all not to George.’

‘I do not know how I shall contain myself in his presence. I think I shall plead a slight indisposition so that I do not have to see him.’

‘Perhaps that would be advisable. It is a terrible ordeal, my love. But will you leave this to me?’

‘Oh, my dearest, most willingly.’

‘I will have some plan of action, you may be sure.’

‘I am convinced of it.’

‘In the meantime, I must see this Dr. Wilmot. I must get the truth from him, threaten him with dire consequences if this leaks out through him; and then I must find some means of severing this impossible connection.’

‘My darling, do you think you can do it?’

‘Have you ever known me fail you?’

‘Never,’ she cried fervently.

• • •

Lord Bute suggested that the Prince of Wales should accompany him to Kew where they would stay for a while.

‘There we can find more solitude,’ he explained, ‘and I have much to say to Your Highness.’

George had always had a particular liking for Kew; the palace was unpretentious; he liked the river and he had taken a great dislike to Hampton since his grandfather had slapped his face there.

‘I want you to get a real grasp of affairs,’ Bute had told him. ‘The country is moving forward at a great rate. In the last few years the change has been significant. You must see in every aspect this country of which you will one day be King.’

George was eager to learn. He was a little worried every now and then when he remembered his marriage. At first it had seemed so right and noble; but now that he was a little farther from the event he was beginning to realize what significant action he had taken. He would do the same again, he assured himself; but he did realize that when the news was out it was going to be a very great shock to the people he cared about—such as his mother and Lord Bute.

Hannah might say that she was prepared to live in retirement, but a Queen could not do that however much she wished it; and could Hannah ever act as a Queen of England? And if she did not, if they forced him to take another Queen...then the children would be illegitimate. How could an illegitimate son be the next King of England?

What a web he was caught up in!

There were times when he considered confessing everything to Lord Bute, but he never reached the point. He could not find the courage and Lord Bute had, it seemed to him, actually turned the subject to something quite different when he had been on the point of broaching it.

So a little rest at Kew was very desirable. A little respite, the Prince called it. Perhaps in a few weeks’ time he would be able to see the position more clearly and then make the right decision.

One thing he continued to tell himself: ‘I don’t regret it. I would do the same again.’

They rode every morning at Kew. It was so pleasant along by the river and people came out of their cottages to curtsy as he rode by. Some called: ‘Long live the Prince of Wales’ and he was gratified because they seemed to like him.

‘The King is growing very unpopular,’ Bute told him. ‘The people are eager for you to ascend the throne.’

‘It seems wrong to talk of Grandfather’s death so constantly.’

‘People will talk so of Kings. They consider their Kings their property.’

George shivered a little, though the sunshine was warm.

‘There is something...’

But Lord Bute was smiling at a little group on the roadside.

‘Give them a pleasant smile. They expect it.’

So he smiled and inclined his head in acknowledgment of the cheers and he told himself that when he was King he would work for the good of the people; he would he Good King George–that was what he wanted.

And before his reign he had made a secret marriage...he had children who were born before his marriage. Little John was the real heir to the throne. No, he was not...because then Hannah had been married to Axford and not to him. But had she been married to Axford? Was it a true marriage? And the sons born before marriage were illegitimate...unless marriage later to their mother legitimized them. It was indeed a tangled web and he was too ignorant to sort it out. Lord Bute would be able to. His dear friend was capable of understanding everything.

Lord Bute now began to talk about the successful campaigns. There was victory on all sides Parades were common in the streets of London when the heroes returned from the scenes of their triumph.

‘You should share in these triumphs. The King should give you a command in the army.’

A command in the army! An escape from the problems at home! It seemed a wonderful solution. He could shelve the problem of his marriage until he returned from the wars; and while he was away perhaps he could see the position more clearly.

‘I can see that the idea appeals to Your Highness.’

‘It is what I desire.’

Bute was a little surprised, knowing that the Prince disliked any form of bloodshed. Did he imagine that he could escape that by going to war? He had thought that the young man would have to be persuaded to it. It must mean that George was anxious about this terrible situation in which he had become involved. That was to the good. The more he realized the extent of his folly the more likely he would be to accept the solution.

Bute was aware that the Prince was on the point of confiding in him; he must steer him clear of that. It was Bute’s intention to know nothing of the matter—ostensibly—until it was all over. Therefore he wanted no confidences from the Prince about a matter on which he had made sure he was already fully informed.

‘You should perhaps write to the King and tell him that you would welcome a military appointment. After all, it is only natural that the heir to the throne should want to have a share in the country’s triumphs.’

‘I will do so without delay.’

‘Would Your Highness care for my assistance in drafting the letter.’

‘I should, of course, welcome it.’

They rode back to the palace and occupied themselves with writing the letter and when it was ready a messenger was despatched with it to Kensington Palace where the King was in residence.

The Prince and Bute then settled down to study maps and talk of war; and Bute was pleased to notice that in this new interest the Prince seemed to have lost a little of his apprehension, which Bute construed as meaning he was not so deeply obsessed by his marriage and the Quaker as he had been.

• • •

When the King read his grandson’s letter he tossed it across the room.

‘Puppy!’ was his comment.

He would have torn it into pieces but he had to remember that it was, after all, a request from the Prince of Wales and that since his grandson held that position and was of age even he could not ignore him.

When Pitt and Newcastle called on him he showed them the letter.

‘Put up to this,’ was his comment, ‘by his mother and that Scottish stallion. A nice figure he would cut in the field. I hear he doesn’t like the sight of blood, but he’ll be a soldier because Mamma says he should.’

‘Your Majesty will, of course, reply in diplomatic terms to His Highness.’

‘I shall tell the puppy the answer is No.’

‘It is a reasonable enough request,’ suggested Newcastle ‘One understands that the Prince wishes to serve the country at such a time.’

‘It’s made to embarrass us,’ said the King. ‘She doesn’t want to lose her baby. She wants to keep him at her side...making sure nobody is going to whisper in his ear but herself. I tell you this: she knows the answer is No. That’s why he’s been advised to make his request.’

Pitt was inclined to agree. It was the Leicester House set, who were trying to form a Prince of Wales’s Party, seeking a chance to play the Prince off against the King, and, counting on the Prince’s popularity with the people, hoping to make an issue of this.

Pitt shrugged the matter aside; but on his advice and that of Newcastle the King wrote politely enough that the Prince of Wales could not be spared to leave the country.

‘Insolent puppy!’ growled the King as he passed the letter over for sealing.

‘He is determined to insult me,’ murmured the Prince as he read his grandfather’s letter.

It’s taking his mind off the Quaker, was Bute’s mental note; and after all, that was the most important issue at the moment.

• • •

The Prince and Bute returned to Leicester House for the Prince’s birthday. His popularity was clearly growing, for the people of their own accord decorated the streets and prepared to make this a great occasion.

There were crowds outside Leicester House and loud cheers when the Prince appeared; and all that day and night the citizens of London celebrated the occasion.

The Prince was gratified. It was soothing to his vanity after the King had so snubbed him. What did the approval of that irascible old man mean to him while the people loved him?

His mother had recovered from her slight indisposition and was almost herself again, although he was anxious to see that she was still a little wan.

He had had no time to visit Tottenham but he would go there soon. Perhaps he would talk over his predicament with Hannah; they would pray together and she would give him her opinion.

He might then arrive at some course of action.

He felt relaxed. Perhaps it was not as bad as he had feared.

The people loved him; he was sure they would be ready to accept his bride as their Queen solely because he loved her and asked them to.

• • •

A carriage had drawn up before the house. Hannah was at the window watching. At first she had thought it was the Prince for it was long since he had come, but the carriage had not come by the private drive which he had always used.

A man alighted, tall, elegant. Her heart began to beat uncomfortably; instinctively she sensed some doom.

He approached the door; and she heard the knock echoing through the house—like clods falling on a coffin.

She turned from the window and sat in her high chair, her hand to her throat where a pulse was hammering under her lavender silk gown.

A scratching at the door.

‘Madam, a gentleman begs to be allowed to see you.’

‘Who is he?’

‘He gives no name, Madam.’

‘Bring him in.’

He came. He was of the Court she knew at once by his bearing and manners.

‘I trust you will forgive the intrusion, Madam.’

‘I pray you, sir, sit down.’

‘Thank you.’

He sat and looked at her kindly. He was a very handsome man. He said: ‘I come on behalf of His Highness, the Prince of Wales.’

‘Yes.’

‘That does not surprise you, I see.’

‘No.’ She had never been able to dissimulate.

The visitor seemed relieved. It was as though he had made up his mind that he had to deal with a sensible woman.

‘You had been expecting someone to call?’

‘Yes. May I know your name?’

‘I cannot tell you that. Is it enough that I am a friend of the Prince of Wales?’

‘It is enough if he sent you to me.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘He does not know that I have come.’

She nodded and smiled faintly.

‘I see you are a lady of good sense. I know that you are—or were—a member of the Society of Friends which is a great comfort to those who wish well to the Prince, for we believe that you are a good and religious woman who will be prepared to do your duty.’

‘I shall try to do that,’ she said.

‘Let us be open and frank with each other. The Prince has contracted a marriage with you. You realize that this marriage can never be recognized.’

‘I do not understand that. But whether or not it is recognized it is a marriage.’

‘You yourself were married before to an Isaac Axford. Therefore it could be called a bigamous marriage and no marriage at all.’

‘I did not count myself married to Isaac Axford,’ she answered.

‘And you do to the Prince of Wales?’

She nodded.

‘You are devoted to His Highness, I believe?’

‘I would do anything for his happiness.’

Now the visitor’s relief was apparent. ‘Then I am sure that when you have heard what I tell you, you will agree to what I have to say.’

Hannah listened to what she was told and as she listened she felt her life crumbling into ruins about her.

It was true what she heard. She had always known it. He had made his sacrifice for her knowing all this; she must not fail him. Now was the time to make hers for him.

• • •

In his closed carriage the Prince set out for Tottenham. It was some weeks since he had seen Hannah, but she would understand. Matters of state were increasingly taking more and more of his time and she had agreed that this would become more and more inevitable as time went on.

He reached the house. He was going to tell her how glad he was that their union was at last sanctified. He would discuss with her the advisability of making the matter known...first, he thought, to Lord Bute, who had always been his friend and never showed any impatience. He reminded himself even when his father was alive—much as he had loved him—it was Lord Bute to whom he had taken his troubles.

The carriage turned in at the private drive. He alighted and looked with tenderness up at the window where she invariably watched for him. He believed that she was listening all the time for the sound of his carriage, for she always seemed to be there when he arrived. She would lift her hand in greeting as he alighted, and then run down to greet him.

On this day he stood looking up at the window. The curtains remained still. He had caught her today! She had not heard him.

He took out his key and let himself in by the door which he always used. She was not waiting for him, and he was suddenly aware of the silence of the house. It was strange. He had never noticed that before. Of course he had not, because she would he running down to meet him.

He went to the hall and called her name. He looked up the stairs.

‘Hannah? Where are you, Hannah?’

Now it was really strange, for she did not appear on the stairs.

She was ill. Something had happened. He took the stairs two at a time, calling her name. Where were the servants? Why did they not come out to receive him?

A sudden panic came to him. He was alone...alone in this house.

‘Hannah! Hannah!’ He scarcely recognized his own voice. Where could she be! There was nowhere far her to hide. He went into the room with the tall windows in which Reynolds had painted her picture. She was not there. He looked at the wall and stared, for where the picture had hung there was an empty space.

‘Oh God,’ he whispered. ‘What does it mean?’

He ran to the nursery. The little beds were there and empty. The children were gone.

‘Hannah! Hannah !’ he called.

There was a cold sweat on his brow; his mind felt sluggish, unable to supply the answer he was demanding of it.

‘Hannah, where are you? Come out if you are hiding. If this is a joke...Enough...Enough...’ He whispered her name; he shouted her name; but there was no answer. Only his own voice echoing through the empty house.

He ran through the rooms; there was no sign of her, no sign of the children, no sign of life. He would not believe it. They could not have gone.

‘Where to?’ he demanded of the emptiness.

The children? She could not have gone back to St. James’s Market and taken the children with her...his children? How would that have been possible?

But she had disappeared. She had been spirited away.

He would not leave the house; he went from top to bottom, searching, calling her name, through the empty rooms which he already knew were empty because he had examined them before.

He stood in the hall looking about him.

But she was gone.

He had lost her and he could not understand how.

Dazed, bewildered, he returned to the carriage and gave orders to be driven back to Kew.

• • •

Lord Bute was waiting for him when he returned to the Palace.

‘Some business to discuss with Your Highness...Good God! what has happened? Your Highness...looks...Your Highness has had a shock?’

‘I want to talk to you. I must talk to you without delay.’

‘Come into my private apartments. We shall be quite alone there.’

Lord Bute shut the door and looked at the Prince earnestly. He was taking it badly. Well, it was to be expected.

‘Tell me what has happened to upset you.’

‘I do not know what has happened. It’s a mystery...a terribly mystery. I do not understand what it means.’

‘Pray tell me everything.’

So the Prince told—of his life with Hannah, of the children.

Lord Bute listened nodding gravely; but when the Prince came to the marriage he opened his eyes wide and exclaimed with horror.

‘I had to do it. It meant so much to her. She feared death...and the sin...’

‘Ah, I understand,’ said Lord Bute. ‘And you decided that at all costs to yourself you must relieve her of that.’

‘I knew you would understand.’

‘Certainly...certainly. There will be difficulties. Your mother had decided on a German Princess for you.’

‘What I have discovered today is what has reduced me to this state. She has gone.’

‘Gone...Gone where?’

‘That I do not know. I went to visit her and I found the house empty...I found her disappeared. Everything is gone...The children...herself...There is nothing there. It empty house. Yet...how could they have gone without telling me.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I went through the house...every room...the nursery, the kitchen...everywhere. There is no one there at all. And the picture has gone.’

‘Picture?’

‘Reynolds painted it. I wanted a picture of her.’

‘So you sent Reynolds to...er...this...er...house to paint her?’

The Prince nodded. So there is another in the secret, thought Bute uneasily.

‘You...told him who she was?’

‘No, no. I merely arranged that he should be commissioned to paint a picture of Mrs. Axford.’

‘I see.’

‘But what can I do. Where is she? Can you explain?’

‘There is an explanation, obviously.’

‘But what? I can think of none.’

‘Nor I just at present. But if Your Highness will give me every detail of this affair I will do my best to find it.’

‘Oh, please do. I shall not rest until Hannah is safe.’

‘You said she was ill, did you not? That was the reason for the marriage?’

‘Yes, there was a change in her. After the birth of our boy she was not so well and before the second boy was born she grew very frail. It was then...’

‘Ah yes, Your Highness told me. Now you will give me leave to set about this matter in the way I think lit?’

‘Oh yes, please do.’

‘First Your Highness must tell me everything...everything remember. And then I will see what can be done.’

• • •

In a few days’ time Lord Bute solemnly presented himself to the Prince of Wales.

‘Your Highness should prepare himself for a shock.’

The Prince grew pale, his lips sagged and his blue eyes looked as though they would fall out of his head.

‘It is very sad. Your fair Quakeress is dead.’

‘It cannot be.’

‘Alas, it is so. You know that she was ill...it was for this reason that you married.’

‘Yes, she had a premonition...but I thought she recovered a little after the birth of the child.’

‘Perhaps knowing how anxious you were she kept the truth from you. She allowed you to marry her which perhaps had she not known she was going to die, she would not have done.’

‘Why? Why?’ George beat his fist on the table and his blue eyes were full of tears.

‘Because she loved you and she knew how difficult marriage with her would make your life. She knew you would be King of England soon and she knew that she could have no place in public life. She knew she would always have to live in the shadows as she had been doing all these years. Do you think that if she had not known she was going to die she would have allowed you to marry her?’

‘She was so happy when we were married. She said she knew how Christian felt when his burden of sin fell from his shoulders. She seemed so happy.’

"That was because you had done the right thing by her...and she by you.’

George covered his face with his hands—and Bute allowed him a few minutes of silence.

Then George said: ‘The children…?’

‘I have discovered where they are. They are being well cared for.’

‘But who...who has done this?’

‘She had an uncle. Did she never speak to you of him?’

‘Was it someone named Pearne?’

‘Why yes...I believe it was.’

‘I had heard her mention an uncle. He left her a little money some years ago. Forty pounds a year it was...’

‘It must be a member of his family.’

‘You have seen him?’

‘No, but I have seen a man whom I can trust. A priest—a chaplain to the King at one time: Zachary Brooke.’

‘Zachary Brooke. I do not know him.’

‘He has a living at Islington. Apparently his help was called and he was present at Hannah’s death. He has buried her in his churchyard.’

‘But why...’

‘He cannot tell me details, he says. He has been sworn to secrecy. Presumably the lady’s relations made these arrangements.’

‘And the children? What of the children?’

‘They are safe in the household of a very worthy gentleman in Surrey. John and Sarah MacKelcan will take good care of them and bring them up as their own. Your Highness can visit them whenever you wish. You can watch over them in the future. The only thing, of course, is that they will be known as MacKelcan, and it will be wise, of course, if they remain so.’

‘Everything seems to have been so efficiently taken cart stammered George.

‘I doubt not this is due to that relative of the lady’s. This uncle must have had her good at heart to leave her this money.’

‘It seems so strange...I cannot believe it. Hannah to die like that...and myself not to be there.’

Lord Bute laid his hand on the Prince’s arm. ‘This is a strange affair from beginning to end. You must try to forget it.’

‘I shall never forget her. I can’t take this in. I can’t believe it. I shall never believe it. It’s so strange. Why did she not send for me? A message would have brought me to her bedside. I should have arranged these matters...not this relation.’

‘She had her reasons.’

‘I can’t understand.’

‘I can,’ said Lord Bute softly.

‘I feel bewildered. There is so much I want to know.’

‘There is one thing of which Your Highness can have no doubt. That is my affection for you, my desire to protect you from trouble.’


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