Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill - Plaidy Jean - Страница 74

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'You and Elizabeth must stay with me until something can be done to dislodge your guests,' she told Sheridan, who was delighted at the prospect.

In his bedroom in the magnificent Pall Mall house he discussed the future with Elizabeth.

'A temporary embarrassment, my love. When the Prince is Regent, when we are in power, there'll be a very important place for me in the Government. Make no mistake about that.'

'Will it pay our debts, Richard?'

'My dearest, who is going to worry about the debts of the ... er ... what shall it be? What post would you choose for me?'

'I would choose that of the solvent man.'

That made him laugh. 'Elizabeth, you have no spirit of adventure?'

He took her by the shoulders and looked into her face. Now she could see clearly what dissipation had done to those once handsome looks.

Oh, Richard, she thought, where are you going?

She released herself and made a desperate effort to restrain her fit of coughing.

Maria was concerned by Elizabeth's pallor and Miss Pigot made one of her special cough mixtures for her. Maria was very fond of Elizabeth. Sheridan was witty and amusing and she believed a good friend of the Prince, but it was Elizabeth whom she loved.

The Prince had asked her to receive the Duke of Portland

and she had sent an invitation to him which he had been delighted to accept, and he had shown his appreciation of her intelligence by discussing the situation with her. After that he had called several times and he, Sheridan and sometimes the Prince had had discussions together.

It would have been useful, Portland had implied, if Fox could have joined them.

It is one thing I will not do, Maria had decided. I will never have that man in my house.

The Sheridans came into her drawing room. Delightful guests, she thought. Sheridan so entertaining; Elizabeth so charming.

'We have half an hour before my guests are due,' she told him. 'Pray be seated, Elizabeth, my dear. Did you take Pig's potion? You will be in her black books if you did not.'

Elizabeth assured her that she had taken the evil-tasting concoction. 'And I have not coughed since.'

Dear Elizabeth! She needed the quiet of the country; she needed a respite from anxiety. They were of a kind. Why should they fall in love and marry—yes marry —men who were so different from themselves?

'Portland will be coming tonight, I suppose,' asked Sheridan.

'My dear Sherry, he almost asked himself. He seems to regard my house as the headquarters of his party, which is comical, considering my politics.'

Sheridan laughed. 'Delightfully incongruous.'

'And Portland is a little jealous of you, Sherry.'

'I know. You are too kind to us. He would like you to be as kind to him. Perhaps if I could persuade him to pass over his fortune to me he would be in a position to entertain the bailiffs, then you might take pity on him as you are now doing on the poor impecunious Sheridans.'

'I am not sure that I should, for impecunious or not I like to think of the Sheridans as my friends.'

Sheridan rose and bowed as gracefully as though he were on a stage.

'One man I will not have in my house,' said Maria vehe mently, 'is Charles James Fox. I know the Prince wishes me to, but I cannot bring myself to receive him here. When I think of

the public insult he gave me, I am determined that I could never accept him as a friend of mine.'

Elizabeth's heart began to beat uncomfortably. She wanted Richard to defend his friend. All the political good fortune which had come to him had been due to Fox's influence. She wanted Richard to stand up for Fox, to explain to Maria that Fox had been forced to act as he had; but to do so was of course to cast a criticism on the conduct of the Prince of Wales and that was something he dared not do.

'Fox, I think, believed he was acting for the best...' he began mildly.

Tor the best!' cried Maria. 'To destrov my reputation. To speak of me as though I were a ... a street woman!'

Sheridan said soothingly: 'Oh, he's a wily old Fox. I well understand why you won't have him here.'

'No,' said Maria, 'not even for the Prince. And I do not think he is quite so fond of Fox as he once was.'

'How could he be,' said Sheridan, 'when you dislike him so?'

Later that night in their bedroom in Pall Mall Sheridan talked to Elizabeth while she brushed her long dark hair.

'Portland is jealous of me. Think of that, Elizabeth. Portland! The great Duke himself. Maria is our friend and don't make any mistake about this: Maria is going to have a big say in affairs. When the Prince is Regent, when he gives his support to the Party, then we'll be truly in power. Poor Mr. Pitt. He will depart and in his place ...'

'Mr. Fox?' said Elizabeth quietly.

'Mr. Fox?' repeated Sheridan almost questioningly. 'Maria hates him. I have rarely seen her so vehement as she was when she spoke of him. She will have great influence. Oh, yes ... great influence, and she is not very pleased with Mr. Fox ... Portland is jealous of me. Think of that Elizabeth. You see ...'

'Yes, I sec,' said Elizabeth.

'The future looks very promising. So why are you worrying about those confounded bailiffs?'

Fox out of favour, he was thinking. Portland jealous of

Sheridan. Could it be? Was it possible? Was Richard Brinslcy Sheridan the future Prime Minister?

Elizabeth, watching him through the mirror, knowing him so well, read his thoughts clearly.

Who knows? she asked herself. He has succeeded so well in one direction, failed so sadly in another.

And whatever the outcome, shall I be here to sec it?

When Parliament reassembled in December Pitt rose to propose a committee to examine the setting up of a Regency. The King's doctors had declared his mind to be deranged, but with the exception of Dr. Warren they believed there was a very good possibility of his recovering.

'We should examine precedents,' said Pitt.

Fox was immediately on his feet. 'What is the need of a committee?' he demanded. 'The heir apparent is of age and has the capacity to govern. If the King were dead he would ascend the throne. The Prince of Wales has the right to govern if his father the King is unable to do so.'

What had happened to Fox? The wily politician with his expert knowledge of parliamentary procedure had made a false step, and it was one which a sharp-witted statesman such as Mr. Pitt would sec at once. The use of the word right was the biggest blunder Fox could have made.

Pitt could scarcely contain himself for his excitement. He whispered to the man seated next to him; 'I can't believe Fox could be such a fool. This gives me the opportunity I want. I'll unwhig the gentleman for the rest of his life.'

Mr. Pitt was on his feet. He could not allow the statement of the honourable gentleman to pa^ss. He had used the word 'right'. Mr. Pitt feared that Mr. Fox had put forth a treasonable doctrine. 'The Prince of Wales,' Mr. Pitt admitted, 'has a claim, but no more right than any other member of this community.'

Fox immediately saw his mistake. Oh, God, what a fool. Why did I use that word? All this time away from the House had blunted his wits; the journey across Europe had sapped his strength. Lizzie was right. He should have taken it more

leisurely. What would a few more days have mattered ... another week. Anything would have been better than that he should make this blunder. And of course Pitt was gleeful. Pitt had leaped into the advantage.

Fox's friend Edmund Burke, that brilliant orator, rose to defend him.

It would seem, he said, that Mr. Pitt considered himself as a candidate for the Regency. Were they now in the presence of King William IV. They should be warned lest they be guilty of Use majeste.

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