The Prince and the Quakeress - Plaidy Jean - Страница 60

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‘Not if we choose with care.’

‘A German Princess...docile, without friends...coming into a strange country. That is what we need. Not an English bride surrounded by scheming relations.’

‘Exactly, exactly. But I think we should find the bride without fail. George needs to be married and this I know of him, once he is, he will be a loyal faithful husband If we marry him quickly I believe we shall have little to fear from the influence of scheming women. He is by nature innocent and idealistic. When he takes his marriage vows he will mean them. Our George is at heart a very respectable man. So let us marry him as soon as possible to the right woman. Then there will be an end of this affair of the Lennox girl.’

‘You think it is as simple as that, John dear?’

‘My dearest, it is simple because we are dealing with a very simple man.’

‘Shall we send for him and tell him we propose to look for a wife for him?’

‘I think not. That would drive him to declaring his affection for Sarah Lennox and his intention of marrying her. No I have to answer this letter. I must do it with the utmost caution. I will write my answer now...we will do it together...and when we feel it is the right one we will despatch it to him. But I think we should act without delay, for promptness could be of vital importance in an affair like this.’

So Lord Bute sat down at the Princess’s writing-table and with her at his side answered the King’s letter:

‘My dear Prince’s kind confidential letter is of too great consequence to return an immediate answer; not but God knows, my dear Sir, I with the utmost grief tell it you, the case admits not of the smallest doubt. However, I will carry your letter with me to the country, weigh every circumstance, and then like an honest man, a most devoted servant, and a faithful friend, lay the whole before you. Think, Sir, in the meantime, who you are, what is your birthright, what you wish to be, and prepare your mind with a resolution to hear the voice of truth, for such alone shall come from me, however painful the office, duty and friendship and a thousand other ties command me, and I will obey though death looked me in the face...’

Bute looked up from the letter into the anxious face of the Princess.

‘It is beautifully expressed, my dearest,’ she said. ‘And so...cautious.. .’

‘It will prepare him for my answer which will distress him greatly.’

‘And you feel you should go to the country?’

‘For a few days only. I fear if I stay here he will talk to me of this matter, having broken the ice, and that I should show myself unsympathetic which would be the surest way to lose his confidence. No, I will send this letter, and go away for a few days. When I return I shall have decided on the best way of dealing with this matter. And while I am away, my love, you should set enquiries in motion. We must find -that suitable Princess for him. The matter is urgent.’

‘What if he marries this girl...secretly as he did .. .’

Bute shook his head. ‘Her family would not wish that. They will want a royal wedding and a shared coronation. You can depend upon it. Secret marriages are always suspect.’

‘I often think about that…’

‘No, no, my love. Do not even mention her name. It is best forgotten.’

She nodded slowly. ‘Do not be away long, John. I am lost without you.’

He kissed her tenderly.

What a pleasant state of affairs when the King and the Princess Dowager could not do without him.

He would certainly do everything in his very considerable power to keep things as they were in that respect.

• • •

George read Lord Bute’s letter and smiling put it into a drawer. Of course his dear friend did not understand the depth of his affection. When he did he would see that marriage with Sarah was the only solution.

He would persuade Lord Bute...and his mother. And if they did not agree?

Well, he told himself, you are the King, you know.

Today he would go to his levee and she would be there. She was often there. He believed her family knew how delighted he was to see her and that was why they always brought her with them. Sometimes he spoke to her; sometimes he contented himself with looking at her. He was a little embarrassed when face to face with her and never quite sure what to say. There was a look of mischief in her eyes which while it delighted him disconcerted him. She was serious beneath, he was sure of that; she was everything a Queen ought to be, but she liked to laugh and tease. That could be very amusing and exciting between two people when they were alone, he believed; but it was a little alarming in public.

She was very different from Hannah. No one could be more different. Perhaps that was why he found her so entrancing. Perhaps he wanted to forget Hannah had ever existed. Memories were so painful and whenever he thought of her now he thought of what would have happened if Hannah had lived and he had had to make known his secret marriage to his ministers. He shivered at the thought. He could imagine Mr. Pitt’s reactions; and Newcastle, fool that he was, was at least a politician. He could imagine the talk in the streets...the gossip, the scandal. It would have been insupportable. Lord Bute had told him once when he had brought up the subject that it would have shaken the throne. A king must always think very carefully before he took an important step. He owed it to his throne and his people.

Well, he must not think of Hannah. It was all over. Hannah lay beneath that tombstone under the name of Rebecca Powell. And her children? He felt a pang of uneasiness when he remembered them. But they were well cared for. He had made sure of that. He received reports on their well-being. And he had seen them once or twice. But Lord Bute had pointed out the folly of visiting them because as they grew older they would recognize him. His features were so well known, particularly now that he was King.

‘Content yourself with knowing they are well cared : advised that dear friend and mentor. ‘And when they are of age you can see that they are well placed in the world. Their mother would ask no more of you than that, because it is the best thing possible for all concerned. And now there is only one thing to do. Forget it ever happened. Forget...forget…’

That was exactly what he wanted to do, and on those occasions when he remembered he must quickly push those thoughts out of his head.

And the best one to make him forget was Sarah...who was as different from Hannah as any woman could be.

Sarah, enchanting, frivolous, gay, teasing, tempting, and with royal blood in her veins.

She was at his levee. All the time he was receiving he could see her on the other side of the room with her sister Lady Caroline Fox, and kept taking surreptitious looks at her. Oh, she was lovely. She seemed more beautiful every time he saw her. Perhaps he would speak to her. What should he say? He wished he could think of brilliant witty things. But he was going to marry her. He had decided in that moment. Nothing would satisfy him but marriage with Lady Sarah.

Lady Susan Fox-Strangways was being presented to him by her sister, Anne, who was married to the Earl of Albemarle. A pleasant-looking girl. He liked her; he would have thought her very pretty if he had not been aware all the time of the dazzling perfections of Lady Sarah.

He signed to Lady Susan to sit down and sat beside her. She had a special attraction for him because he knew that she was a very close friend of Sarah’s and he found it easy to talk to her of Sarah than to Sarah herself. Moreover, Sarah was on the other side of the room with her sister and he could keep glancing her way.

He said rather haltingly that it pleased him to see Lady Susan at his levee. He wished she was present more often but he believed her home was in Somerset.

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