All sow wild oats when we're young, thought the King. No longer a boy. People will be pleased. Debts paid, settle down, produce an heir. Rather late but better late than never. All that talk of marriage with that woman ... good woman, but of course no marriage ... all that over and done with.
'Good, good, eh, what?' said the King. 'Mustn't lose any
The Fateful Decision gyg
time. Go ahead now ... Summon Pitt ... Country will be pleased.'
# # •
The Prince sought comfort with Frances. He had been wise, she told him. So had she. The Queen was delighted with her. She would be very well received at Court; and her position as Prince's mistress would be unimpaired by the marriage. Madame Caroline would have to accept Lady Jersey.
He would see the change in the attitude of the people when his betrothal was announced, she assured him. And soon he would be married, for they would lose no time in bringing Caroline over.
The Queen was furious because he had not chosen her niece so that gave him some satisfaction. But all the time he was thinking of Maria. He rehearsed what he would say to her.
'It had to be. The people expected it. A Prince of Wales must constantly consider the people. You understand, Maria. You must understand.' That note about not entering her house again. Of course he hadn't meant it. She should have known he hadn't meant it. She was his true wife. He would never forget it. This was just a State affair. She must understand. He could never be completely happy unless she did.
Maria heard the news. The Prince of Wales was to marry Caroline of Brunswick.
She did not rage against him; she was very calm, but this frightened Miss Pigot more than her rage would have done. She was broken-hearted, poor Maria, because whatever she said of him, however much she quarrelled with him, she loved him.
And he had told her publicly as clearly as he could that he did not consider her his wife.
'I should have known, Piggy/ she said. 'It was clear, wasn't it, when Fox denied the marriage in the House of Commons? He accepted that then. He never meant to acknowledge me. Oh, Piggy, I have been so foolish ... so fond and foolish.'
'It will be all right, Maria. He'll come back. He will come back. I know it.'
'I shan't be here. We're going away. We're going at once.'
'But where?'
'What does it matter? It only matters that we are gone ... should he come back. But he won't, Pig. He will never enter this house again. He has said it.'
'He will,' said Miss Pigot firmly. 'He will.'
The Prince came to the house in Pall Mall. The furniture was covered with dust sheets; the blinds drawn.
'Mrs. Fitzherbert has left, Your Highness.'
'Where has she gone? Where? Where?'
'She left no information, sir/
So she had gone, deserted him, and he was left alone to face this situation.
How could she have treated him so. Tears filled his eyes. Maria ... his wife.
He went back to Carlton House. They were showing him portraits of a pretty girl, the German Princess who was to be his wife.
I have never been so wretched in my life, he said. No one could comfort him. Lady Jersey? He was only fascinated by her. Maria should have known that. It was the comfort Maria alone could give him that he wanted. Why couldn't she understand?
But he was a prince, and a Prince of Wales, and he had given his word to marry.
Soon his bride would be here and he must do his duty.
In Switzerland Maria heard that the Princess Caroline of Brunswick was coming to England to be married to the Prince of Wales.
'This is the end, Piggy/ she said. 'This is the final repudiation/
But Miss Pigot shook her head. 'That is not true,' she said. 'It is not the end. Something tells me it is not. I know in my heart that whatever happens he will always come back to you/
Maria shook her head and, smiling, tried to hide her un-happiness, trying foolishly—for how could she hide her feelings from the faithful Pig?—to pretend she did not care.
But in her heart she believed it, too. She was his wife. The bond between them would never be severed while they lived.
It was not the end. He would come back to her.
