Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill - Plaidy Jean - Страница 67

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They seemed to be surrounded by two different kinds of friends. There were some who shared the friendship of both of them, people like the Duchess of Devonshire, the Sheridans, the Dukes of Grafton and Bedford. But the Prince had his own set which consisted of people like Major Hanger, that eccentric fellow who was so fond of practical joking—a habit Maria deplored. She was never amused to be the subject of such jokes, although to please the Prince she accepted the role she was sometimes called upon to play.

Two people of whom Maria could never approve were Sir John and Leticia Lade. Sir John was celebrated for the manner in which he could handle horses, and was soon taking charge of the Prince's stables. His wife was an amazing woman who swore more colourfully than any soldier, a fact which was perhaps not surprising because before she had married Sir John she had lived in St. Giles's and had been the mistress of a highwayman known as Sixteen String Jack. When he was

caught and hanged Letty married Sir John. She was an amazon of a woman and could handle a horse even better than her husband and had immediately called attention to herself by riding astride and by her management of a curricle and four.

They had a house near Brighton and at the races had made the acquaintance of the Prince of Wales, who was amused and intrigued by the free talk of Letty and the skill she shared with her husband in the management of horses. The Prince's love of horses drew him to the pair and they were often seen together.

Then there was the wild Barry family. Hellgate, Cripple-gate, Newgate and Lady Billingsgate. Hellgate was Richard, Earl of Barrymore, who had such a quick temper that he was constantly Hying into violent rages; hence his name. His brother Henry was club-footed and so was Cripplegate. A young brother, Augustus, had been so often imprisoned for debt that he was called Newgate, this being the only prison he had not stayed in; and their sister Caroline swore in such a manner that she was Lady Billingsgate. Hellgate explained to the Prince that their wildncss was due to their having been left orphans at an early age and put into the care of a tutor which had taught them all a virtuous society would say they should not know.

'We called him Profligate,' said the Earl, which made the Prince roar with laughter. Although of course when he repeated the joke to Maria it brought only a forced smile to her lips.

Maria did not approve of the Lades, nor the Barrys.

Dear Maria was decidedly prim. Not that he would have her otherwise. She was perfect as she was. He would not have liked to see her swearing with Letty Lade or joining in the pranks he played with the 'Gates'. But she must remember that he was young—six years younger than she was—and that he wanted to enjoy all the fun that was to be had; so he wanted to be with these a.nusing friends and when he wearied of them to return to Maria's comforting bosom.

He had taken her brothers Walter and John into his circle, and they were in constant attendance. They clearly adored him and would do anything however wild to amuse him. This worried Maria a little; but what could she do? How could she

tell her brothers that they must avoid the company of her husband, particularly when that husband was the Prince of Wales. They were getting into financial difficulties and could not understand why Maria did nothing for them. Why did she not procure some rewarding post for them in the Prince's household? It was true she extracted them from several financial embarrassments; but the Prince would have done anything ior her. She only had to ask for some sinecure to be bestowed on her brothers and it would have been done in a flash.

But Maria was adamant. She would have liked them to go back to the country; she deplored the fact that their father had been unable to control them owing to his illness. Uncle Henry was far too easy going.

So Maria kept an eye on her brothers and longed for the days before the return of the Duke of York, who was always agreeable to her and ready to be her good friend; but she did deplore the practical jokes, the wild horseplay, the extravagance.

It was different from those lovely days at Brighton when the Prince had scarcely ever left her.

But he was still devoted; still determined that everywhere she should be accepted as the Princess of Wales.

In her house in Pall Mall where the walls of her drawing room were hung with puckered blue satin, and on the walls of the dining room hung full-length portraits of the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York, she entertained lavishly during the winter; and in the spring she rode down to Brighton with the Prince.

They were happily married—as she saw it; and she did not believe it would ever be otherwise.

Then there was disturbing news of the King.

Fanny Burney

The King's Madness

'The Queen/ said Miss Burney to the very gallant Colonel Digby who, others had noticed, was constantly at her side, 'seems to me to be obsessed by a most fearful apprehension.'

'Ah, Miss Burney,' laughed the Colonel, 'you are too fanciful. I believe you dream up all sorts of terrors—and possibly joys—for us all, Her Majesty no exception.'

'It is not true,' declared Fanny. 'But do you not sense this strangeness in Her Majesty? At the reading yesterday I am sure she did not hear a word. She was occupied with her own thoughts; which I fancy were far from pleasant.'

Colonel Digby remarked that the Queen no doubt had her problems. His Highness's conduct at Brighton was giving concern to the King—so perhaps that was the cause of her preoccupation.

'Yes,' agreed Fanny. 'But there is somefhi?ig. It is as though she expects some ghost to appear suddenly ... some horribly menacing spectre.'

The Colonel laughed aloud; he did laugh frequently witli Fanny, although he was of rather a melancholy turn of mind and his favourite topics of conversation were what happened after death and did Fanny believe in immortality. He enjoyed conversation more than anything else; for what else, he demanded, was there to do in the King's household than talk?

Fanny listened, forever wondering what his intentions were, tor he had only recently become a widower and being but forty-lour years of age, he had told Fanny, he would like to marry again. They had much in common, for he had read widely and liked to discuss literature with her.

It was the tea-time hour—one of the best of the day as far as Fanny was concerned. Madam von Schwellenburg had not yet made her appearance and Colonel Goldsworthy had been dozing for the last twenty minutes.

'Oh yes,' went on Fanny, 'it is true. I have seen it in Her Majesty's face. She is afraid of something ... and what she fears is terrible.'

Madam von Schwellenburg came into the room at that moment frowning and looking disapprovingly at Fanny who was always chatting with Colonel Digby. 'Miss Berners' as she called her, would have to learn that she had not come to Court to flirt with 'chentlemen'. She had come to perform duties for the Queen and that meant waiting on the Queen's chief Lady of the Bedchamber.

'Tea I vill haf, Miss Berners,' she said, and Fanny immediately served her.

The unpleasant woman made a face. 'Poof. Not goot. Too much time on talks...' She frowned at Colonel Goldsworthy who emitted a slight snore. 'Colonel Goldsworthy ... he alvays sleeps vith me. Sleeps he vith you too, Miss Berners?'

Fanny said that the Colonel had been hunting with the King and his party and no doubt that had made him a little tired.

Madam von Schwellenburg tapped her foot impatiently on the floor and looked delighted when one of the pages appeared to say that His Majesty wished to see Colonel Digby.

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