‘Ah, Mary, come and meet Charles James Fox, my most open-hearted and liberal-minded friend and fellow Whig. I know you have heard me mention his brilliance as a member of parliament on numerous occasions, and are familiar with his efforts to reform the government. He is also, you will be glad to hear, a close friend of the prince.’
He grinned most amiably as he took my hand. ‘I fear Georgiana greatly exaggerates my influence, but I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Mrs Robinson.’
I instantly warmed to the merry twinkle in his dark eyes beneath the shaggy brows, the bulbous nose and plump cheeks that wobbled as he laughed. He was even more corpulent than the public gossip sheets would have us believe, and not handsome in any degree, yet I liked him on sight.
Georgiana patted his unshaven chin as if he were a pet dog of which she was particularly fond. ‘He is the most pleasure-loving dissolute, able to out-drink anyone, and has gambled at least one fortune away.’
‘Where is the point of money if not to make it go round,’ Fox cheerily remarked. ‘And I am always willing to pause any game of hazard when the house is sitting and requires my presence in some important debate or other. I cannot say fairer than that.’
Georgiana laughed out loud. ‘Fortunately, White’s and Almack’s stay open around the clock to accommodate you, and other incorrigible gamblers such as my own good self. But enough of this flippancy, we have been discussing the riots that took place yesterday, and are this morning in all the papers. Did you see them, Mary? Did you notice how red the skies were from the burning buildings?’
‘Indeed, we quite feared for our lives.’
‘I watched from my balcony here. Lord George Gordon must be a fanatic to incite such a catastrophe.’
‘The fellow is unbalanced, opposed to the granting of perfectly reasonable rights to Catholics,’ Fox said. ‘The rabble took over Parliament while he lectured the House on the wrongs of popery, then dashed off to harangue the Lords in the same way. Members were in a complete panic, rushing in all directions, fighting off punches by the demonstrators, the less fleet of foot being kicked to the ground.’ He met Georgiana’s wide-eyed gaze with a sad shake of the head. ‘The duke’s carriage was detained by the crazed mob, who forced him to shout “No Popery” several times in a loud voice, before agreeing to release it.’
The duchess put her hands to her mouth in startled dismay. ‘Oh, my poor William. How very unnerving for him. Is he safe?’
‘He is fine, dear lady, but having done their worst at Westminster, the rioters went on to ransack the city, as you saw for yourself.’
‘No doubt fuelled by drink and quite beside themselves with rage,’ she agreed. ‘They plundered shops and houses, and burned down the King’s Bench Prison. I never saw such mayhem. They even stormed Newgate, I believe, to release four of their fellow rioters who had been arrested, and other inmates along with them.’
I picked up one of the news-sheets that lay scattered about the table. ‘This says there are four hundred dead,’
‘Oh, how terrible!’
‘The duke asked me to instruct you to leave town,’ Fox informed the duchess in urgent tones.
Georgiana nodded. ‘I have already made arrangements to move at once to Chiswick. My servants are even now preparing my carriage. I cannot stay here another day.’
‘Most wise. Then if you have no further need of me, I must return to ascertain if there have been any further catastrophes. Good day to you, my dear Georgiana, and Mrs Robinson. I feel certain you and I will become great friends.’
I smiled. ‘My pleasure, sir.’ Whereupon he gave a small head bow and hastily took his leave. The duchess clasped her hands together and heaved a great sigh.
‘Sadly this means that I shall miss the king’s birthday celebrations tomorrow. Oh, and I was so looking forward to wearing my beautiful new blue gown with the embroidered gauze drapery.’
‘I am sorry you will not be present, Your Grace. I should have liked a friend to be present as this is my first royal function.’
Georgiana almost gaped at me. ‘You have been invited to the king’s ball at St James’s Palace?’
‘Not to the ball precisely, but, thanks to the prince, I am invited to watch from the spectator’s box.’
There was the very slightest pause, then my dear friend issued a warning. ‘Don’t expect too much, Mary. It was most daring of the prince, or a sign of his current rebellion, to issue such an invitation, but it will not have been with the king’s blessing. Do take care.’
I was to remember her words vividly when Monday evening arrived. Because of the riots, and an attempted attack upon St James’s Palace earlier that day, there were fewer of the nobility attending the ball than expected. Malden and I were admitted into the Lord Chamberlain’s box without question, but the prince did not approach to offer a welcome. I had sternly warned myself that this might be the case, but it was hard to accept in reality.
‘Does my darling Florizel not look utterly magnificent?’ The prince was wearing a sky blue silk coat, beautifully embroidered with silver, and I could not take my eyes from him.
‘You do appreciate that His Highness cannot ask you to dance, Mary?’
Carefully swallowing my disappointment, I brightly remarked, ‘That is only to be expected. I am content simply to be here.’
In truth I found it exceedingly painful to be forced to sit and silently watch the man I adored take the floor with other ladies. He opened the ball by dancing with the Lady Augusta Campbell, daughter of the Duke of Argyll, quite pretty and with the most adorable ringlets. I saw her hand him two rosebuds from her bouquet, and later the prince told me that she had said it was ‘emblematical of herself and him’. Did she imagine a burgeoning intimacy between them?
As I watched, my heart yearning to take her place, I saw the prince call the Earl of Cholmondeley to his side and hand over the rosebuds. Slanting a glance in my direction he whispered some instruction in his ear. To my complete astonishment that gentleman crossed the floor and presented the flowers to me with a low bow, his face quite devoid of expression.
‘From His Royal Highness with his compliments.’
I took the delicate blooms and tucked them into my décolletage, casting the prince a shy smile of gratitude, and more tellingly to his partner one of pure triumph. I felt empowered by the gesture, proud that His Highness would risk public censure in order to honour me, while publicly mortifying so exalted a rival.
We continued our clandestine meetings throughout that summer of 1780, nearly always accompanied by Malden and Prince Frederick. Meanwhile, the scandal of the rosebuds naturally excited comments in the press. The papers daily indulged the malice of my rivals and worst enemies, which are ever prolific on stage, by repeating the most scurrilous nonsense respecting the Prince of Wales and myself. I found it quite impossible to prevent the torrent of abuse that poured upon me from all quarters as lampoons and caricatures.
A noted beauty, (Perdita her name,
No matter where brought up, or whence she came,)
Though bless’d with charms above her narrow soul,
Was curs’d with pride not reason could controul.
Wher’er she came contending suitors bow’d.
(Enough to make the giddy strumpet proud.)
‘Did I not warn you that this would happen?’ my mother said, deeply distressed by what she considered to be a shocking state of affairs. ‘They accuse you of seducing an innocent young prince, with the assistance of your pimp of a husband.’
‘Pay no heed, Mama, as you well know the prince has pursued me for months, and the seduction is all on his side, with no help from Tommy.’
‘I dare say you are enjoying your new role as a fashionable leader of the ton?’
‘Crowds gather wherever I go. Whenever I appear in public I am overwhelmed by the press of the multitude, frequently obliged to quit Ranelagh owing to the crowd assembled round my box. They gaze upon me with open curiosity. Even in the streets I c
an scarcely enter a shop without experiencing the greatest inconvenience. Many times I have waited hours before quitting an establishment, until the crowd surrounding my carriage has dispersed. Such proceedings have become a national absurdity.’
‘It is no laughing matter, Mary. You are a woman of notoriety now.’
I did not much care for this description, although I sympathised with my mother’s viewpoint, knowing it was her anxiety for my future happiness which affected her judgment.
‘Mama, I am not the first lady to become the mistress of a prince, nor the first this prince has enjoyed. We cannot choose who we love. Didn’t Papa say as much years ago?’
‘And we know why that was, do we not?’
Realising it was unwise to continue along those lines, I quickly changed tack. ‘I cannot understand their interest. People know well enough who I am. Have I not been on stage for three seasons with ample opportunity to view me. It pains me that my fame is greater now, as mistress to a prince, than when I was an actress.’
Mama sniffed her disapproval. ‘You seem to be the most talked about woman of the day. The papers are full of gossip and lampoons about Florizel and Perdita. And what of the royal household, what is their opinion of this scandal?’
I sighed, but could not resist admitting to my latest embarrassment. This was my mother, after all, and we were close. ‘I recently attended the Oratorio, and as the prince and I cannot be seen together, I seated myself opposite to His Highness, as is my wont. Unfortunately, our fond glances were again noticed and remarked upon, and when I returned the next evening I was denied admittance.’
Mama put her hands to her cheeks in horror. ‘Oh, how very mortifying.’
I gave a careless shrug, as if it was of no importance, even though I had been cut to the quick to be barred from the theatre. ‘I have the prince’s love so I am resolved to fear no one. I held on to my dignity and merely instructed Mr Robinson, who had generously escorted me, to pay his guinea, which he did, and we ascended to our box anyway, in complete defiance.
‘What’s more, at the end of the evening I made sure that I placed myself in a situation where I was in full view of the prince as he went to his chair. He gazed long and adoringly at me as he departed, making it very clear to everyone present that he wanted me there.’
‘Oh, my dearest girl, I fear you may find life as a royal courtesan more trying than you ever anticipated.’
My mother, as ever, was much wiser in these matters than I. Knowing that I was truly the mistress of the prince’s heart was a wondrous feeling, more thrilling than I could ever have dreamed possible, but sadly the position failed to gain me the respectable place in society for which I craved. In truth, I felt rather removed from it.
‘I would so love to have you with me, dearest Perdita, whenever I attend the theatre or military reviews, but it is not possible. I would like to invite you to join one of the royal hunts at Windsor, but the king would never allow it. Matters may improve when I come of age at twenty-one, but even then I suspect His Majesty will continue to control me. Such is my lot in life. No masquerades, no gambling or drunkenness, and no lounging about Hyde Park.’
‘And no affairs with actresses,’ I added, kissing his adorable mouth.
My darling Florizel chuckled. ‘As you see, I do not obey my father in every respect.’
In August, when he turned eighteen, he was considered old enough to rule for himself, in the sad event this were to become necessary. A private ball was held to celebrate his birthday at Windsor, to which I was not invited. How I longed to be at his side on this great day, but I was excluded from such celebrations. I watched the parade in Windsor Great Park at midday, heard the twenty-one gun salute, ached to be in the royal barge with my Florizel as the regatta sailed forth. But I was merely a spectator, standing with Tommy on the banks of the Thames.
‘Do you not resent how he neglects you?’ my husband asked.
‘If he does, it is but out of duty,’ I tartly responded. ‘Not as you did, from selfishness.’
‘Such is my flaw,’ Tommy affably conceded. ‘Yet I feel His Highness could do more for you.’
If I privately agreed with this assessment, I did not express an opinion on the subject. When I met with the prince the next day, his mood was glum.
‘I am to have no establishment of my own, no London house, after all,’ he complained, with no small degree of resentment. ‘I am to continue to share with my brothers.’
‘Why has the king reneged on his promise?’
‘Can you not guess, dearest Perdita? It is punishment for this very improper attachment. Nor will I be granted the independent income I was pledged, so cannot yet honour my bond to you until I come fully of age.’
‘That matters not,’ I cried, wrapping my arms about him, and meant it with all my heart. I could see how hurt and angry he was by this rebuff, and felt mortified for my dear Florizel as well as filled with guilt that I might be the cause. ‘Did I not say this could happen? Oh, Your Highness, what can we do?’
‘I’m afraid there is nothing to be done. The king declares that he hates having these scandalous stories “trumpeted in the papers”, as he describes it. He believes his enemies will use them to wound him. I, of course, assured my father that it will be my principal object through life to merit the parental attachment and kindness he professes towards me.’
‘Then we must part?’ I asked, unable to still the tremor of fear in my voice.
‘Indeed not, Perdita my love,’ he assured me, pulling me close in his arms to kiss me most fervently. ‘The king and I disagree on most matters of any importance, certainly on politics. As you know I increasingly favour Fox and the Whig party, all thanks to my uncle the Duke of Cumberland, and our good friends Sheridan and the Duchess of Devonshire. The more my father castigates me, the more he drives me into the arms of the opposition. But at eighteen I will behave as I think fit. I intend to be my own man and refuse to be constantly dictated to, ordered about like some recalcitrant child. I believe it is time that I publicly acknowledged you.’
The Prince wasted no time in setting me up with my own establishment in fashionable Cork Street, a house that had formerly belonged to the Countess of Derby who caused a scandal by deserting her husband and children for her lover the Duke of Dorset. The property was of modest proportions but lavishly furnished and appointed, and the prince granted me a modest sum to buy paintings, books and ornaments to my own taste. Living in the heart of Mayfair was a considerable step up from the previous home I’d shared with Tommy in Covent Garden.
‘I have devoted hours shopping for the right accoutrements to dress the house,’ I told the Duchess of Devonshire when next I visited. Her house in Piccadilly was now but an easy stroll from my own. ‘Even longer scouring the advertisements on the front pages of the newspapers, seeking the best milliners or mantua-makers, portrait painters and booksellers. And I am quite taken by the notion of a new phaeton.’
‘What of your dear child?’ asked Georgiana, who was still hoping for the illusive heir. ‘Why is she not with you today?’
‘I do assure you I am not like the countess. Leaving a husband may be forgivable, but nothing would induce me to forsake my darling Maria. While I have agreed to leave her temporarily with my mother, for the sake of the prince’s reputation, I have in no way abandoned her. I fully intend to spend many hours with her every single day.’
The duchess considered me with a thoughtful raising of her brow, her silence speaking volumes.
‘How could I not agree to such a reasonable request? I believe that my exalted status as a royal mistress will allow me to improve my child’s future too.’
She gave me a wry smile. ‘I believe you are angling for a title, Mary, rather like Barbara Palmer, mistress to Charles II, who became the Duchess of Cleveland.’
I found myself blushing. ‘I assure you the thought had not occurred to me, but we are very much in love, so is there any reason why not?’
‘I can thi
nk of many reasons, not least the king’s opinion on such a matter. George is only a prince, remember, not a monarch. But we shall see. Take care, dear friend, that you do not confuse a simple affair with love and ambition.’
‘I have every confidence in his devotion to me,’ I said, stubbornly refusing to listen to my friend’s advice.
As if to prove his commitment, the prince held a ball for me, at Weltje’s Club. Etiquette demanded that he open it with one of the aristocracy, and I was happy that he chose the duchess as partner. Later he did indeed dance with me, which was a complete delight. I felt proud to take my place at his side as the prince’s acknowledged mistress, dressed in a new gown of rose silk. And I of course wore his miniature about my neck.
I soon set tongues wagging by entertaining lavishly in my new role, sending giddy female hearts beating with envy. Every new gown I wore, the very latest Paris had to offer, was imitated and emulated to the smallest degree. I drove about Hyde Park in my new blue and silver phaeton, drawn by milk white ponies, my post-boys in matching jackets. I had the panels ornamented with a pretty basket of flowers set above a wreath of roses, with my initials MR painted beneath. If it looked from a distance rather like the prince’s five-pearled coronet, then so be it.
Oh, and how the inquisitive bystanders gathered to watch me pass by, blocking my passage with their curiosity, at great inconvenience to my progress. But ever the actress, I knew how to play to the crowds and not be alarmed by them. I might wear a straw hat, tied at the back of my head in the style of a paysanne, or a cravat and riding jacket. On other days I would be painted, powdered, patched and rouged to perfection as any fashionable leader of the ton should be.
‘Am I living dangerously by inciting such envy?’ I asked the prince.
He laughed, amused by my concerns. ‘After so many years with only a dull and proper monarch, is it any wonder if they come to worship at the feet of your beauty?’
My cheeks pinked with pleasure at his words, and to my shame I relished every moment of my new-found fame. How could I not be delighted by the prince’s acknowledgement of me? I was young still, headstrong, and bewitched by love for the first time in my life.
Lady of Passion Page 15
