Only this must be a secret. If you told your mother… Heaven knows what would happen to the young lady.’
‘I fear my mother would not wish me to meet her.’
‘Ah, mothers! It is the same with my own. Do you know she regards me as an infant in arms even now. But we have to remember that we are grown up, although it does no harm to let our mothers go on believing we are babies if it pleases them. Why shouldn’t everyone be pleased?’
‘That is what I want… to please everyone.’
‘Let me discover what can be done. I think I can promise you that, very soon you will have been able to tell your beautiful Quakeress how much you admire her.’
‘And you will tell no one?’
‘Trust me. As soon as I have news I will give it to Your Highness.’
‘I do not know how to thank you, Miss Chudleigh.’
‘It is I who should thank you for giving me a chance to be of service.’
*
Elizabeth was enjoying her part in the Prince’s first love affair. Intrigue fascinated her; and it was quite right, she assured herself, that the poor boy should be cut free from his mother’s apron strings; and who more able to do that than a mistress.
He was young, but not too young. It was a man’s desires which decided for him when he should begin his love life; and George’s had evidently decided for him. Let him have a mistressor two and the Princess Dowager and her paramour Lord Bute would find they could not guide their little Prince as easily as they had hoped. It would be fun to watch the breakaway.
In the meantime the rendezvous with the fair lady had to be arranged. It was not so easy as she had at first imagined. The girl was a Quakeress and therefore it would be impossible to call at the linen-draper’s and explain the Prince’s interest in the fair inmate of that establishment. First of all she must sound the young lady’s inclinations. If she were agreeable it would be so much easier; not that Elizabeth would entirely dismiss the possibility of abduction. After all it was for the Prince of Wales; and reluctant ladies could becoming willing ones in certain circumstances.
This was a project after her own heart. She paid a visit to the linen-draper’s where she was treated with great respect. These Quakers were good business-folk and Mr Wheeler paid due homage to ladies of quality in his shop no matter how he might disapprove of them in his back parlour.
His wife was present and it was easy to indulge in a little conversation with her about her children. They all seemed so young. Then she made the discovery that the young lady in question was not a Miss Wheeler; she was Miss Hannah Lightfoot, niece of the linen-draper who had been sheltered under his roof from an early age. Fortunately before she left Hannah came into the shop. She was a beauty; there was no doubt about that. George had chosen well. He had better taste than his father or grandfather – as for his great-grandfather, every man in England had better taste than he had! But Hannah was indeed a beauty. What luminous dark eyes, what grace! Even the austere Quaker gown could not hide her charms. Worthy… indeed worthy to be the mistress of the Prince of Wales.
Elizabeth spoke to her. Her voice was low and soft; yet, thought Elizabeth, there was sparkle in her; she might well be ready for adventure. And why not? This sombre shop was no place for a beauty like that.
It’s my duty, Elizabeth told herself, to bring her out of it. If I needed to salve my conscience, which I don’t because I don’t possess one, but if I did, I should have a very good reason for proceeding with this most amusing affair.
She graciously took her leave.
What next? There was a man of whom she had heard who kept a house in Pall Mall; he had worked for several people at Court and she had heard that he could supply certain services as efficiently as any. He could arrange meetings in the most secret and unlikely places; he was discreet; ready to help any in need of help. He was
‘I fear my mother would not wish me to meet her.’
‘Ah, mothers! It is the same with my own. Do you know she regards me as an infant in arms even now. But we have to remember that we are grown up, although it does no harm to let our mothers go on believing we are babies if it pleases them. Why shouldn’t everyone be pleased?’
‘That is what I want… to please everyone.’
‘Let me discover what can be done. I think I can promise you that, very soon you will have been able to tell your beautiful Quakeress how much you admire her.’
‘And you will tell no one?’
‘Trust me. As soon as I have news I will give it to Your Highness.’
‘I do not know how to thank you, Miss Chudleigh.’
‘It is I who should thank you for giving me a chance to be of service.’
*
Elizabeth was enjoying her part in the Prince’s first love affair. Intrigue fascinated her; and it was quite right, she assured herself, that the poor boy should be cut free from his mother’s apron strings; and who more able to do that than a mistress.
He was young, but not too young. It was a man’s desires which decided for him when he should begin his love life; and George’s had evidently decided for him. Let him have a mistressor two and the Princess Dowager and her paramour Lord Bute would find they could not guide their little Prince as easily as they had hoped. It would be fun to watch the breakaway.
In the meantime the rendezvous with the fair lady had to be arranged. It was not so easy as she had at first imagined. The girl was a Quakeress and therefore it would be impossible to call at the linen-draper’s and explain the Prince’s interest in the fair inmate of that establishment. First of all she must sound the young lady’s inclinations. If she were agreeable it would be so much easier; not that Elizabeth would entirely dismiss the possibility of abduction. After all it was for the Prince of Wales; and reluctant ladies could becoming willing ones in certain circumstances.
This was a project after her own heart. She paid a visit to the linen-draper’s where she was treated with great respect. These Quakers were good business-folk and Mr Wheeler paid due homage to ladies of quality in his shop no matter how he might disapprove of them in his back parlour.
His wife was present and it was easy to indulge in a little conversation with her about her children. They all seemed so young. Then she made the discovery that the young lady in question was not a Miss Wheeler; she was Miss Hannah Lightfoot, niece of the linen-draper who had been sheltered under his roof from an early age. Fortunately before she left Hannah came into the shop. She was a beauty; there was no doubt about that. George had chosen well. He had better taste than his father or grandfather – as for his great-grandfather, every man in England had better taste than he had! But Hannah was indeed a beauty. What luminous dark eyes, what grace! Even the austere Quaker gown could not hide her charms. Worthy… indeed worthy to be the mistress of the Prince of Wales.
Elizabeth spoke to her. Her voice was low and soft; yet, thought Elizabeth, there was sparkle in her; she might well be ready for adventure. And why not? This sombre shop was no place for a beauty like that.
It’s my duty, Elizabeth told herself, to bring her out of it. If I needed to salve my conscience, which I don’t because I don’t possess one, but if I did, I should have a very good reason for proceeding with this most amusing affair.
She graciously took her leave.
What next? There was a man of whom she had heard who kept a house in Pall Mall; he had worked for several people at Court and she had heard that he could supply certain services as efficiently as any. He could arrange meetings in the most secret and unlikely places; he was discreet; ready to help any in need of help. He was
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