The Prince and the Quakeress: (Georgian Series) (11 page)

Masked and cloaked she called on Mr Jack Ems of Pall Mall – an assumed name doubtless, which added to the excitement. Not that she would give her name. He received her in a beautifully furnished apartment and she told him that she wished to arrange a meeting between two people.

Nothing could be simpler. Was the meeting to take place in London?

Most decidedly. The gentleman concerned was very young and of very high degree. Mr Ems would be surprised if he knew how high.

Very young and very highly placed. Her ladyship could rely on Mr Ems’ discretion.

‘I must,’ said Elizabeth. ‘If I could not this could cause consternation in very high circles, in roy…’ She pretended to stop herself in time and Mr Ems was duly impressed. A man of his alertness would know that she was referring to the Prince of Wales; and he would bring forth all his ingenuity to execute this commission with all his power and skill.

‘The difficulty is the lady. She must be sounded. Not even the exalted young gentleman has an idea of how she will receive this proposal.’

‘I am to… er… sound her?’

‘You are to find some means of sounding her.’

‘I will do it.’

‘Don’t be too optimistic. She is a Quakeress, very sternly brought up. You will have to go to work very carefully.’

‘Ah.’ He was shaken. He could deal with most difficulties, but this was a big one. ‘If your ladyship will give me all particulars I will do whatever is possible and I can tell you this: if Jack Ems can’t bring about the desired result, then, my lady, no one can.’

‘I am sure of it. She is Hannah Lightfoot, niece to the Quaker linen-draper of St James’s Market.’

He nodded grimly.

‘Do not attempt to approach me. I will call on you in three days time and I hope that by then you will have something to tell me.’

*

Jack Ems was in a quandary. He had visited the linen-draper’s and made some purchases, for his wife, he explained, who was unable to leave her home. The linen-draper himself served him. Jack Ems knew the type. Stern, upright, moral; if he made the sort of proposal he had come to make to such a man he would promptly be shown the door. No bribes would suffice. If the King himself commanded Mr Wheeler to hand over his niece Mr Wheeler would firmly refuse. A weighty problem, and Mr Ems was searching his mind to find some way out.

He had walked far, he said, having come from Hammersmith. The roads were so bad and the mud of Piccadilly was unbelievable. Might he sit down for a moment? He was given an opportunity to observe Quaker hospitality when Mrs Wheeler brought him a glass of ale.

He sat sipping it, listening to the conversation of Mr Wheeler and his customers – ladies from Knightsbridge and Bayswater who had been dealing with Mr Wheeler for years. They enquired after the family. And how was Miss Rebecca’s toothache? Little Hannah was growing fast…

Little Hannah! Jack Ems pricked up his ears and hoped for some comment on that other Hannah. None came.

If she would appear in the shop, if he had a chance of seeing her… He went on sipping his ale, desperately seeking to form a plan.

Good luck was with him. A young woman came into the shop, and he was immediately alert. She was pretty and young, and being a student of human nature – as his business demanded he should be – he detected a certain petulance about her.

‘Good afternoon, Jane. Hannah is sewing in her room. Thou mayest go up.’

Mrs Wheeler came over to him to ask if he would like more ale.

‘You are most kind, but no thank you. That will suffice. I have been listening to the enquiries after your children. You
are fortunate to have a family. My wife and I… alas, we have no children.’

Mrs Wheeler was all compassion. That was sad, very sad. Yes, they had a full household, and she counted that a blessing from God. Two boys and three girls.

Surely not the young lady who had just gone in. Mrs Wheeler could not possibly be the mother of a girl of that age!

Oh no, that was Jane. She had worked for them and had left to be married. A good girl but a little flighty, so it was well she was married.

And married well?

Mrs Wheeler put her head on one side. ‘She married an apprentice to a glass-cutter in Cockspur Street. My niece misses her. They were of an age.’

‘So you have a niece living here too?’

‘Oh yes, my husband brought her and her mother here before our marriage. Hannah is like a daughter to us.’

Jack nodded and said they were singularly blessed indeed. And so, he believed, was he, to have gained so much information. He was pinning his hopes on the flighty servant.

*

It was not difficult to strike up a conversation with Jane. Jane liked to go about the streets of London and Mrs Betts gave her plenty of free time. She would shop for her mistress and enjoyed conversing over the counter with the younger and gayer shop assistants. Sometimes she met Hannah in Ludgate Hill and they would go into Axfords together – Hannah to shop for the Wheelers, Jane for the Betts.

It was in a shop that Jack Ems made Jane’s acquaintance. It was very easy to knock into her, upset her purchases, apologize profusely, pick them up and that gave the opportunity.

What was such a pretty girl doing as beast of burden? Would she allow him to carry her purchases for her?

‘As far as Cockspur Street?’

‘To the ends of the earth.’

Jane was enjoying herself. Her apprentice was a good man but unexciting. He would never be able to provide the laces and ribbons she saw in shop windows. It was a pity, because they were so becoming. Jack Ems summed up her frivolous nature and decided that she would be ready to go a certain way for a
little reward and some excitement, so he lost no time in coming to the point.

She had a friend, Miss Hannah Lightfoot, the niece of her old master.

Jane was a little disappointed that the man she had thought was her admirer was after all interested in Hannah; but she was practical enough to realize the inevitability of this and there was a strong streak of kindness in her nature. If she were dissatisfied with her own lot she believed it to be an improvement on Hannah’s. So she thrust aside her disappointment and was ready to tell all she could of Hannah.

Hannah was beautiful… anyone could see that. It was a shame that she should be shut away in the Quaker’s shop. Hannah was twenty-three years old… no longer so young. And Hannah had never had a chance.

Hannah was soon going to have a miraculous chance. If Jane would help him.

Jane would like to help him, but she would have to be careful.

It was also a shame, he pointed out, that Jane did not have the pretty things she craved for. If she helped she would be so well rewarded that she could buy some of them. What would Jane have to do? First she must find out from Miss Lightfoot whether she would be prepared to make an assignation with a very important young gentleman who had fallen in love with her.

‘She never would,’ cried Jane. ‘It is against everything she has been taught.’

‘You could explain to her…’

‘She wouldn’t listen. There’d be terrible trouble if they found out. Suppose Hannah told her uncle? He might consider it his duty to speak to my husband…’

‘Your husband is an apprentice, is he not?’

‘Yes.’

‘Suppose your husband had a chance of setting up his own business.’

‘What?’

‘I can see you are a sensible girl. The young gentleman involved is of very high nobility. If you would help me and if together we were able to bring about the desired result I can see no reason why there should not be big rewards in this for
you. Not just a pretty gown or two… which your beauty deserves and which you shall have in any case… but I see no reason why, if we are successful in this affair your husband might not be in business on his own.’

Jane’s eyes were sparkling. No longer to be a servant! To be mistress in her own house, ordering her own servants . . and all for helping her dear friend Hannah to escape from that dreary linen-draper’s shop.

‘I’ll do it,’ she said.

‘Then it’s a bargain. But you do understand the need for secrecy, don’t you? Not a word to anyone. And you must be discreet. First find out how Hannah feels about this young man. She will know to whom you refer, because although they have not spoken he has made his interest clear.’

‘She never told me.’

‘So you will have to tread carefully. Remember what is at stake.’

Jane nodded; and after having made an arrangement to call on Mr Ems at an early date, bemused, she went into the glass-cutter’s.

*

Hannah was astounded. The Prince of Wales wished to speak to her! No one had mentioned the Prince of Wales, but she knew. He was the young man… the boy… who had looked at her so earnestly as he had passed in his chair. He had been so moved by the sight of her that he had wanted to talk to her.

‘Thou art making it up,’ she accused Jane.

Jane swore that she was not. ‘There can be no harm in it. Why shouldn’t you meet him? You only have to talk to him.’

‘But where…how   …?’

‘You don’t have to worry. You only have to go out with me… we’re supposed to be shopping… In Jermyn Street a closed carriage is waiting for us… We get into it and together we go to this address. There you will speak to this young nobleman and together we come back to Jermyn Street. What harm can there be in that?’

‘There could be great harm.’

‘Really, Hannah, you are a coward. Are you going to stay in your uncle’s shop all your life, or possibly marry Grocer Axford and go on and on through life never having any fun.’

‘Isaac Axford would be a good husband.’

‘I’ve no doubt but you owe it to this young gentleman to see him.’

‘How can I know what will happen when I get to this house?’

‘You have seen the gentleman. You could trust him.’

Yes, thought Hannah. I have seen him – an innocent young boy. Of course she could trust him. He was no lecherous roué out for a new sensation with a prudish Quaker girl. She knew she could trust him. So since he so desired to see her, she must go to him.

‘I will come,’ she said.

Jane was jubilant. She could scarcely wait to call on Mr Jack Ems to tell him that the first step had been taken.

*

George left the Palace for the Haymarket where Miss Chudleigh had engaged a suite of rooms for him. As his chair was carried to its destination no one glanced at him as he was travelling incognito, just an ordinary gentleman with his private chair, his chairmen and his footman.

He was very excited. He had been daring. It was the first time he had acted without the approval of his mother or Lord Bute, and he did wonder very much what they would say if they knew what he was doing. Miss Chudleigh had warned him not to betray his actions, for his mother and Lord Bute would surely try to stop him if he did.

‘I should not really go against their wishes,’ said George. ‘Everything they do is for my own good.’

‘And for their own,’ retorted Miss Chudleigh.

‘But mine is the same as theirs,’ replied George.

How well they have trained their little tame pet, thought Miss Chudleigh. Well, there were going to be some surprises in Court circles when it was discovered that little George had suddenly become a man.

‘Everything,’ Miss Chudleigh said quickly, ‘will depend on Miss Lightfoot.’

‘Oh yes, everything must depend on her.’

George’s heart was beating wildly as he opened the door of the suite. A man was waiting to bow him into a room which was pleasantly though not luxuriously furnished. With him was a young woman, obviously Hannah’s servant.

‘My lord, the young lady will stay for half an hour and then she must be gone.’

‘It… it shall be as she desires,’ stammered George.

‘If your lordship will excuse me… the lady will be here immediately.’

For a few seconds George was alone in the room; his throat constricted, his sight blurred. Nothing like this had. ever happened to him before; it was like something he had dreamed. And it was all due to clever Miss Chudleigh.

The door opened and she stood there – the beautiful vision from the linen-draper’s window. He gasped and she came towards him, serene – she would always be serene – and only the faint colour in her cheeks betraying the fact that she was excited.

‘I… I trust you are not displeased,’ he stammered.

She curtsied. ‘Your Highness must forgive me. I have never been taught how to behave with royalty.’

What simply charming words! How graciously spoken.

Some impulse made him kneel before her.

‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘Thou must not.’

Thou must not. What a delightful manner of expression. It suited her. He wanted to kiss her hand, but he felt that he should not touch her yet. She might object and he did not want her to go away before he had had a chance to speak to her.

He rose to his feet rather clumsily. ‘You are more beautiful close than in the window.’

‘Your Highness is very kind to me.’

‘I want to be. I wish I knew how.’

‘Shall we sit down and talk?’

Everything she said seemed to him so wonderful, so wise.

They sat side by side on a sofa; he was careful not to sit too close for fear she should object. ‘I have never talked much to ladies,’ he said.

She was moved by his sincerity and honesty. Nothing could have charmed her more. He was incapable of pretence; he was charmingly innocent. And he was the Prince of Wales!

She said: ‘I know thou art the Prince of Wales.’

‘I hope that does not displease you.’

‘No, but it makes it difficult for us to be friends.’

He was alarmed. ‘I feared so. But Miss… er… a friend of mine has told me that it is possible for us to meet.’

‘As we have now.’

‘I hope that this will be the first of many meetings.’

‘Is that what thou wishest?’

‘I wish for it more than anything on earth. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you are. I would be happy if I could look at you for the rest of my life.’

She smiled gently. She was almost as inexperienced of life as he was; and it was pleasant to sit beside him and talk.