The Prince and the Quakeress: (Georgian Series) (28 page)

The Prince and Bute then settled down to study maps and talk of war; and Bute was pleased to notice that in this new interest the Prince seemed to have lost a little of his apprehension, which Bute construed as meaning he was not so deeply obsessed by his marriage and the Quaker as he had been.

*

When the King read his grandson’s letter he tossed it across the room.

‘Puppy!’ was his comment.

He would have torn it into pieces but he had to remember that it was, after all, a request from the Prince of Wales and that since his grandson held that position and was of age even he could not ignore him.

When Pitt and Newcastle called on him he showed them the letter.

‘Put up to this,’ was his comment, ‘by his mother and that Scottish stallion. A nice figure he would cut in the field. I hear he doesn’t like the sight of blood, but he’ll be a soldier because Mamma says he should.’

‘Your Majesty will, of course, reply in diplomatic terms to His Highness.’

‘I shall tell the puppy the answer is No.’

‘It is a reasonable enough request,’ suggested Newcastle. ‘One
understands that the Prince wishes to serve the country at such a time.’

‘It’s made to embarrass us,’ said the King. ‘She doesn’t want to lose her baby. She wants to keep him at her side… making sure nobody is going to whisper in his ear but herself. I tell you this: she knows the answer is No. That’s why he’s been advised to make his request.’

Pitt was inclined to agree. It was the Leicester House set, who were trying to form a Prince of Wales’s Party, seeking a chance to play the Prince off against the King, and, counting on the Prince’s popularity with the people, hoping to make an issue of this.

Pitt shrugged the matter aside; but on his advice and that of Newcastle the King wrote politely enough that the Prince of Wales could not be spared to leave the country.

‘Insolent puppy!’ growled the King as he passed the letter over for sealing.

‘He is determined to insult me,’ murmured the Prince as he read his grandfather’s letter.

It’s taking his mind off the Quaker, was Bute’s mental note; and after all, that was the most important issue at the moment.

*

The Prince and Bute returned to Leicester House for the Prince’s birthday. His popularity was clearly growing, for the people of their own accord decorated the streets and prepared to make this a great occasion.

There were crowds outside Leicester House and loud cheers when the Prince appeared; and all that day and night the citizens of London celebrated the occasion.

The Prince was gratified. It was soothing to his vanity after the King had so snubbed him. What did the approval of that irascible old man mean to him while the people loved him?

His mother had recovered from her slight indisposition and was almost herself again, although he was anxious to see that she was still a little wan.

He had had no time to visit Tottenham but he would go there soon. Perhaps he would talk over his predicament with Hannah; they would pray together and she would give him her opinion.

He might then arrive at some course of action.

He felt relaxed. Perhaps it was not as bad as he had feared.
The people loved him; he was sure they would be ready to accept his bride as their Queen solely because he loved her and asked them to.

*

A carriage had drawn up before the house. Hannah was at the window watching. At first she had thought it was the Prince for it was long since he had come, but the carriage had not come by the private drive which he had always used.

A man alighted, tall, elegant. Her heart began to beat uncomfortably; instinctively she sensed some doom.

He approached the door; and she heard the knock echoing through the house – like clods falling on a coffin.

She turned from the window and sat in her high chair, her hand to her throat where a pulse was hammering under her lavender silk gown.

A scratching at the door.

‘Madam, a gentleman begs to be allowed to see you.’

‘Who is he?’

‘He gives no name, Madam.’

‘Bring him in.’

He came. He was of the Court she knew at once by his bearing and manners.

‘I trust you will forgive the intrusion, Madam.’

‘I pray you, sir, sit down.’

‘Thank you.’

He sat and looked at her kindly. He was a very handsome man. He said: ‘I come on behalf of His Highness, the Prince of Wales.’

‘Yes.’

‘That does not surprise you, I see.’

‘No.’ She had never been able to dissimulate.

The visitor seemed relieved. It was as though he had made up his mind that he had to deal with a sensible woman.

‘You had been expecting someone to call?’

‘Yes. May I know your name?’

‘I cannot tell you that. Is it enough that I am a friend of the Prince of Wales?’

‘It is enough if he sent you to me.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘He does not know that I have come.’

She nodded and smiled faintly.

‘I see you are a lady of good sense. I know that you are – or were – a member of the Society of Friends which is a great comfort to those who wish well to the Prince, for we believe that you are a good and religious woman who will be prepared to do your duty.’

‘I shall try to do that,’ she said.

‘Let us be open and frank with each other. The Prince has contracted a marriage with you. You realize that this marriage can never be recognized.’

‘I do not understand that. But whether or not it is recognized it is a marriage.’

‘You yourself were married before to an Isaac Axford. Therefore it could be called a bigamous marriage and no marriage at all.’

‘I did not count myself married to Isaac Axford,’ she answered.

‘And you do to the Prince of Wales?’

She nodded.

‘You are devoted to His Highness, I believe?’

‘I would do anything for his happiness.’

Now the visitor’s relief was apparent. ‘Then I am sure that when you have heard what I tell you, you will agree to what I have to say.’

Hannah listened to what she was told and as she listened she felt her life crumbling into ruins about her.

It was true what she heard. She had always known it. He had made his sacrifice for her knowing all this; she must not fail him. Now was the time to make hers for him.

*

In his closed carriage the Prince set out for Tottenham. It was some weeks since he had seen Hannah, but she would understand. Matters of state were increasingly taking more and more of his time and she had agreed that this would become more and more inevitable as time went on.

He reached the house. He was going to tell her how glad he was that their union was at last sanctified. He would discuss with her the advisability of making the matter known… first, he thought, to Lord Bute, who had always been his friend and never showed any impatience. He reminded himself even when his father was alive – much as he had loved him – it was Lord Bute to whom he had taken his troubles.

The carriage turned in at the private drive. He alighted and looked with tenderness up at the window where she invariably watched for him. He believed that she was listening all the time for the sound of his carriage, for she always seemed to be there when he arrived. She would lift her hand in greeting as he alighted, and then run down to greet him.

On this day he stood looking up at the window. The curtains remained still. He had caught her today! She had not heard him.

He took out his key and let himself in by the door which he always used. She was not waiting for him, and he was suddenly aware of the silence of the house. It was strange. He had never noticed that before. Of course he had not, because she would be running down to meet him.

He went to the hall and called her name. He looked up the stairs.

‘Hannah? Where are you, Hannah?’

Now it was really strange, for she did not appear on the stairs.

She was ill. Something had happened. He took the stairs two at a time, calling her name. Where were the servants? Why did they not come out to receive him?

A sudden panic came to him. He was alone… alone in this house.

‘Hannah! Hannah!’ He scarcely recognized his own voice. Where could she be! There was nowhere for her to hide. He went into the room with the tall windows in which Reynolds had painted her picture. She was not there. He looked at the wall and stared, for where the picture had hung there was an empty space.

‘Oh God,’ he whispered. ‘What does it mean?’

He ran to the nursery. The little beds were there… neat and empty. The children were gone.

‘Hannah! Hannah!’ he called.

There was a cold sweat on his brow; his mind felt sluggish, unable to supply the answer he was demanding of it.

‘Hannah, where are you? Come out… if you are hiding. If this is a joke… Enough… Enough…’ He whispered her name; he shouted her name; but there was no answer. Only his own voice echoing through the empty house.

He ran through the rooms; there was no sign of her, no sign of the children, no sign of life. He would not believe it. They could not have gone.

‘Where to?’ he demanded of the emptiness.

The children? She could not have gone back to St James’s Market and taken the children with her… his children? How would that have been possible?

But she had disappeared. She had been spirited away.

He would not leave the house; he went from top to bottom, searching, calling her name, through the empty rooms which he already knew were empty because he had examined them before.

He stood in the hall looking about him.

But she was gone.

He had lost her and he could not understand how.

Dazed, bewildered, he returned to the carriage and gave orders to be driven back to Kew.

*

Lord Bute was waiting for him when he returned to the Palace.

‘Some business to discuss with Your Highness… Good God! what has happened? Your Highness… looks… Your Highness has had a shock?’

‘I want to talk to you. I must talk to you without delay.’

‘Come into my private apartments. We shall be quite alone there.’

Lord Bute shut the door and looked at the Prince earnestly. He was taking it badly. Well, it was to be expected.

‘Tell me what has happened to upset you.’

‘I do not know what has happened. It’s a mystery… a terrible mystery. I do not understand what it means.’

‘Pray tell me everything.’

So the Prince told – of his life with Hannah, of the children.

Lord Bute listened nodding gravely; but when the Prince came to the marriage he opened his eyes wide and exclaimed with horror.

‘I had to do it. It meant so much to her. She feared death… and the sin…’

‘Ah, I understand,’ said Lord Bute. ‘And you decided that at all costs to yourself you must relieve her of that.’

‘I knew you would understand.’

‘Certainly… certainly. There will be difficulties. Your mother had decided on a German Princess for you.’

‘What I have discovered today is what has reduced me to this state. She has gone.’

‘Gone… Gone where?’

‘That I do not know. I went to visit her and I found the house empty… I found her disappeared. Everything is gone… The children… herself… There is nothing there. It is an empty house. Yet… how could they have gone without telling me.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I went through the house… every room… the nursery, the kitchen… everywhere. There is no one there at all. And the picture has gone.’

‘Picture?’

‘Reynolds painted it. I wanted a picture of her.’

‘So you sent Reynolds to… er… this… er… house to paint her?’

The Prince nodded. So there is another in the secret, thought Bute uneasily.

‘You… told him who she was?’

‘No, no. I merely arranged that he should be commissioned to paint a picture of Mrs Axford.’

‘I see.’

‘But what can I do. Where is she? Can you explain?’

‘There is an explanation, obviously.’

‘But what? I can think of none.’

‘Nor I just at present. But if Your Highness will give me every detail of this affair I will do my best to find it.’

‘Oh, please do. I shall not rest until Hannah is safe.’

‘You said she was ill, did you not? That was the reason for the marriage?’

‘Yes, there was a change in her. After the birth of our boy she was not so well and before the second boy was born she grew very frail. It was then…’

‘Ah yes, Your Highness told me. Now you will give me leave to set about this matter in the way I think fit?’

‘Oh yes, please do.’

‘First Your Highness must tell me everything… everything remember. And then I will see what can be done.’

*

In a few days time Lord Bute solemnly presented himself to the Prince of Wales.

‘Your Highness should prepare himself for a shock.’

The Prince grew pale, his lips sagged and his blue eyes looked as though they would fall out of his head.

‘It is very sad. Your fair Quakeress is dead.’

‘It cannot be.’

‘Alas, it is so. You know that she was ill… it was for this reason that you married.’

‘Yes, she had a premonition… but I thought she recovered a little after the birth of the child.’

‘Perhaps knowing how anxious you were she kept the truth from you. She allowed you to marry her which perhaps had she not known she was going to die, she would not have done.’

‘Why? Why?’ George beat his fist on the table and his blue eyes were full of tears.

‘Because she loved you and she knew how difficult marriage with her would make your life. She knew you would be King of England soon and she knew that she could have no place in public life. She knew she would always have to live in the shadows as she had been doing all these years. Do you think that if she had not known she was going to die she would have allowed you to marry her?’

‘She was so happy when we were married. She said she knew how Christian felt when his burden of sin fell from his shoulders. She seemed so happy.’

‘That was because you had done the right thing by her… and she by you.’

George covered his face with his hands – and Bute allowed him a few minutes of silence.