Maria released herself from his embrace and stood very still r looking at him questioningly. He felt the colour flood his face; he knew that he had betrayed himself. Maria believed that Fox had been authorized to do what he had done and she guessed on whose authority.

Still she did not speak. She stood as though she were a lifeless-statue.

'Maria!' he cried. 'Maria!'

She had known that Newnham had raised the matter in the House of Commons; she knew the issues which were at stake. She had believed in him, this young gay romantic lover who-had declared so many times that he would resign his crown for her sake; she had talked to him of her beliefs, her religion, that in her which had made her leave the country to escape him. He knew full well her principles; she had thought he understood since he had arranged that ceremony which was a true marriage in the eyes of the Church and therefore in hers and—she had believed—in his.

But he had denied it ... denied it ever had taken place! She, a deeply religious woman, who believed in the sanctity of the marriage tie had agreed to live with him only if she were married to him, and he had wished the marriage to take place; he had wanted a true marriage as she had!

And now he had denied it. He had betrayed her. He had allowed that man whom she had always looked upon as her enemy to get up in the House of Commons and tell the world that she was not the Prince's true wife; she was his mistress. He had had many mistresses, the most famous of them the notorious Perdita Robinson—and she, Maria Fitzherbert, would now be said to be one of them.

'Maria,' he continued, 'listen to me. Fox has done this ...

Fox. He has said this. I did not know he was going to say it. It he had consulted me ...'

'He has said it.' Her voice sounded quiet and calm. 'He has dishonoured me ... publicly.'

'But Maria, it is only Fox ...'

'Only Fox! Only the man whose word carries more weight than any except Pitt's!'

The Prince's eyes filled with tears. 'Maria, my beloved, can you blame me for Fox's misdeeds?'

'But you knew. You must have known.'

'I swear it, Maria. I did not know. He did not mention the matter to me.' He began throwing his arms about in dramatic gestures; he threw himself on to a couch and wept. 'That you should believe this of me! Haven't I sworn ...'

'Yes,' said Maria, 'you have sworn.'

'And can you believe that I would forget my vows?' He was on his feet, embracing her. 'You cannot break my heart, Maria. You know I won't live without you. Don't you trust me? Oh, Maria, how can you treat me like this? You doubt my word. You believe Fox ... rather than me. What of your vows, Maria?'

'So you did not know? You are not in this ... plot to betray me?'

'Maria!'

He looked so appealing with the tears on his cheeks; he cried so elegantly; he had had so much practice in the art of weeping and he never did it ungracefully. His conduct since the ceremony had given her every reason to believe that he was devoted to her. He had even reformed his wild ways a little to please her. He was young; her maternal feelings were aroused; she was relenting.

It was Fox who had done this. She had always known he was an enemy. How wrong of her to blame the Prince for Fox's misdeeds.

She kissed his cheek lightly.

It was enough. He flung his arms about her.

'Now I am happy,' he said.

But it was only a respite. The next day she had a full report of Fox's speech. 'On direct authority,' Fox had said. That could mean only one thing. Fox would never have dared stand up in the House of Commons and declare he had direct authority to deny the Prince's marriage if that authority had not come from the Prince himself.

When the Prince called on her he was surprised by the change in her and he knew it was not going to be so easy to explain this to Maria.

'So it is true,' she said. 'You have conspired with your friends to betray me.'

'I can explain ...'

'There is nothing you can say which will explain it.'

'Maria, it makes no difference to us.'

'It makes every difference to us. I think you had better leave me now. I do not wish to see you again.'

'You don't mean that.'

She was fierce suddenly. 'I certainly mean it. Do you think I wish to live with a man who denies his marriage to me? If you are ashamed of it—that is an end to it. Go back to Mr. Fox. Drink with him on the success of your plan. I have my marriage certificate. What if I sent that to Mr. Pitt? But you need have no fear, I gave my word that as far as I was concerned it should remain a secret. I keep my word. And now, I wish to be alone.'

The Prince stared at her, dumbfounded. 'Maria, what has happened? I have never seen you like this before.'

'You know full well what has happened. And I have never before been betrayed in this way. Did you hear me? I no longer wish you to remain here.'

'Now, Maria, please ... I can explain.'

'I daresay you can think up further lies. You are very skilled in that.'

'Oh, that you could speak to me like this!'

'I have told you I have no wish to speak to you at all. I have finished with speaking to you.'

Tou can say this to me ... who would do anything in the world to please you?'

'The only way in which you could please is by leaving me ... this moment.'

'Oh, my fierce Maria!'

She threw him off impatiently. The charm, the tears, the protestations of undying affection—they were no good now. She did not believe in them any more.

'Maria, I will do anything in the world for you ...'

'Except acknowledge me as your wife?'

'Fox made that declaration in the House ... because ... because he had to. It was Pitt who was making trouble. Don't you see ... if they had admitted to the marriage, on account of your religion there would have been trouble ... about the succession, Maria.'

'That was an aspect I pointed out to you before our wedding.'

'This was in the House of Commons.'

'Of course it was the House of Commons. Where else would such an issue be brought up? You knew it when you married me and now you pretend to be surprised. I want to hear no more. Go ... I will not listen.'

'You shall listen, Maria. Very soon I may be King and my first action will be to abolish the Marriage Act. I will make you a Duchess. We will have another ceremony, and then ...'

'You talk like a child or a fool. Do you think a Catholic Queen would be more acceptable than a Catholic Princess of Wales? But that is not the point. You have denied our marriage. This is an outrage to my honour and to my religion. I have nothing more to say, except that I shall do nothing to betray your perfidy. Your secret is safe with me. But I do not wish to see you again.'

'Maria,' he cried piteously, but she had gone.

The Prince went back to Carlton House and summoned several of his friends, among them Sheridan, Grey, Sir Philip Francis and Lord Stourton.

When they arrived they found him pacing up and down in a distraught manner.

'It's Maria,' he cried. 'I have never seen her like this before.

She is like a tigress. She has said she won't see me again. What am I going to do?'

Sheridan said: 'It will pass. In a few days she will be ready to be friends again.'

The Prince shook his head. 'I know Maria. She is determined. She has these damned principles. I know she means what she says.'

'She is devoted to Your Highness. She will never refuse to see you.'

'I know Maria,' said the Prince blankly. 'You remember how she left England ... and stayed away for a year? Oh, my God, what if she goes away again. What am I going to do? Some of you must see her. Explain ...'

'Explain what, Your Highness?' asked Grey. 'The only explanation she will accept is your repudiation of Fox's statement. Your Highness will see that that is impossible.'