The Prince and the Quakeress

The King’s Courtship

LADY SARAH LENNOX was amused. She was a very high-spirited girl, not yet seventeen, and it was highly diverting to know that the King was in love with her. Sarah was living at the time at Holland House, the home of her brother-in-law, Henry Fox; and her closest friend Lady Susan Fox-Strangways, a niece of Henry Fox, was staying there. In Sarah’s bedroom the two girls could giggle and chatter together and be as frivolous as they pleased.

Susan was more serious than Sarah. She was the daughter of the Earl of Ilchester and her family were perhaps not quite so prominent as Sarah’s, whose brother was now the third Duke of Richmond and whose great-grandfather had been Charles II and great-grandmother Louise de Keroualle. There was, Susan often thought, something of the Stuart charm in Sarah. She was certainly attractive and yet when one studied her face one wondered why. Her eyes were too small, her mouth too large; but that was of little importance, for when Sarah laughed or chattered or merely entered a room, to the majority she was the most exciting female in that room.

Charm! thought Susan wistfully. And it will doubtless bring her a throne.

Sarah was saying: ‘But he’s so shy. Do you know, Susan, he stammers. He is really afraid of offending me. Fancy that. The King goes in awe of Sarah Lennox!’

‘Oh, that is what is called courting. When and if you married him it would be very different.’

‘And why should it be, pray?’

‘Because that is the way of the world.’

‘Don’t look so wise, Susan. You know nothing about it. It is entirely in one’s own hands and it would be in mine. If I married him I would keep him as he is today.’

‘Sarah… think of it! Queen! A coronation! And Mr Pitt bowing to you and waiting on your judgments. And Mr Fox doing the same.’

‘Mr Fox would always remember that I am his sister-in-law. He loves me, I know, but he would never bow to my superior wisdom, I do assure you. He thinks I am a bundle of inconsequent frivolity. I heard him tell my sister Caroline so the other day.’

‘Sisters-in-laws may be that, but Queens would not be.’

‘Oh, you don’t know Henry. He has as high an opinion of himself as Mr Pitt has of himself… or my Lord Bute, of whom, I don’t mind telling you, my dear Susan, they are constantly talking. It’s my belief that they are more afraid of Lord Bute than anyone in this kingdom. I have seen a certain look in brother Henry’s eyes when they rest on me. I think he is weighing me up against Lord Bute. He feels that if I married the King I could then help to break his infatuation for that man – for infatuation it is. He is devoted to him.’ Sarah pouted. ‘I think he is almost as fond of him as he is of me.’

‘Sarah, be serious a moment. Are you in love with George?’

Sarah put her head on one side and appeared to consider. ‘Well, I fancy a crown would look rather well on my head.’

‘Don’t be silly. What about Newbattle? I thought you were in love with him.’

Sarah’s expression softened a little. ‘I was, Susan,’ she admitted.

‘It seems to me, Sarah, that you do fall in and out of love rather easily.’

‘That is wiser than falling in too deeply, don’t you think?’

‘It seemed hardly worth while taking him from Caroline Russell if you are just going to abandon him for the King.’

Sarah laughed. ‘Can you imagine Newbattle… deserted? He will soon find someone ready to give consolation.’

‘Caroline would not have him back.’

‘Caroline would not have been allowed to marry him in any case, I feel sure. Her people want the Duke of Marlborough for her.’

‘But she wanted Newbattle, Sarah… and you deliberately set out to attract him.’

‘Oh, stop preaching, Susan. I wanted him, too, and he is not a parcel of goods to be handed about. He makes his own decisions, you know.’

‘And what does he say now that he knows of the King’s intentions?’

‘If he knows of the King’s intentions he knows more than most of us, Susan. Because the rest of us are not sure.’

‘But he knows that the King is attracted by you.’

Sarah giggled. ‘Poor George does make that a little obvious does he not?’

‘He is rather charming,’ said Susan wistfully. ‘He is innocent and inexperienced.’

‘I like that in him,’ agreed Sarah. ‘When he talks to me he says the most idiotic things… and he keeps saying the same things over and over again.’

‘It is because he is bemused. It shows how deep his feelings go for you. I heard it said that at the Council meeting and in Parliament he spoke with great firmness.’

‘Ah!’ laughed Sarah delightedly. ‘So it is just in my presence. He’s very different from my lord Newbattle.’

‘I believe you have a strong fancy for that man.’

‘I won’t deny it.’

‘You are in love with him?’

‘Well, perhaps a little.’

‘Because of himself or because he left Lady Caroline Russell so easily when you beckoned? Which is it, Sarah?’

‘A little of both, perhaps.’

‘That is not good enough.’

‘Oh indeed, Madam Schoolmarm?’

‘You are old enough to be married, Sarah, and your family will do everything in their power to make you Queen of England.’

‘Queen of England. I like the sound of that.’

‘Better than you like George?’

‘Well, it is impossible to separate the two.’

‘So it is a matter of choosing between two titles: Queen of England or Marchioness of Lothian, for Newbattle will one day be the Marquis.’

‘The Queen sounds better, Susan. You must admit it.’

Sarah jumped up and rummaging in her jewel box brought out a golden bangle which she placed on her head. She sat in her chair, her arms folded, inclining her head regally until the bangle fell off and rolled across the floor.

‘You are absurd, Sarah,’ cried Susan. ‘I don’t think you realize how serious a matter this is.’

‘I do. It’s marriage, my dear Susan, a state into which our families insist we must all enter… if they can find suitable matches for us.’

‘Your family would never want you to accept Newbattle when there was a chance of George.’

‘My sister Caroline ran away and married Henry Fox. The family knew nothing about it until it was fait accompli.’

‘You would run away and marry John Newbattle?’

‘If I wished to. But I don’t think it would be necessary. His family would be delighted to have me. Don’t forget I have royal blood in my veins.’

‘Wrong side of the blanket,’ Susan reminded her.

‘Don’t be coarse, Susan.’

‘Certainly not. Only factual. The royal blood is there, but must be recognized for what it is.’

‘Well, suppose I decided on George?’

‘Then there might be some who do not consider you worthy.’

‘What nonsense!’

‘His Mamma, for instance. I heard that she wants a German Queen.’

‘George would decide surely, and Henry says the people would be on his side.’

‘And what about all those ambitious gentlemen around the King. They wouldn’t want to see the power of the Richmonds and Foxes increased through having a Queen in the family. They would much rather have a German woman whom the King didn’t love and who would take years to learn the language.’

‘Ah, but my dear Susan, it will not rest with them, but with George… and with me.’

‘You are very sure of yourself.’

Sarah retrieved the bangle from the floor and put it on her head.

‘Be careful, my lady, how you address the Queen.’

‘Yes, I see you fancy the title, but I can’t help feeling you have a hankering for Newbattle.’

‘Shall I say,’ said Sarah haughtily, ‘that I have not yet made up my mind.’

Meanwhile Lord Bute was laying the letter the King had written him before the Princess Augusta who grew scarlet with rage as she read it.

‘Lady Sarah Lennox! That silly little girl he has been eyeing. I thought he wanted to make her his mistress.’

‘That would have been well enough,’ agreed Bute. ‘It would have been good for him to have a mistress. Her family would not have been pleased, though.’

‘And why not? It’s a tradition in that family, is it not? Their great boast is that they are descended from royalty through a King’s mistress. Why should not Lady Sarah keep up the tradition?’

‘Brother-in-law Fox is as cunning as his name.’

‘I don’t doubt it. But this affair shall be stopped.’

‘I agree with you, my love. But we must go carefully.’

‘Do you think we should send for George and explain? Really, I do believe that his innocence is worse than depravity. First he gets himself involved with a nobody… a linen-draper’s daughter – or niece – and marries her. And now he falls in love… almost as unsuitably.’

‘Oh come, my love, this is a different affair from that other which praise be to God we have most happily settled. This is the sister of the Duke of Richmond and say what we may the royal blood is there. Of course, I am in complete agreement with you that we must stop this, but I do not feel that at this stage we should attempt to command George. We must not forget that these last weeks have taught him that he is the King. The attitude of men has changed towards him. He has become aware of his position. If he feels strongly about this girl he will not be commanded.’

‘But he must be made to see . . .’

‘It will be easier to persuade than command. I would be afraid of that last. One never knows when he is going to break away.’

‘Break away from us, John? You… his dearest friend and from me… his Mother?’

‘Don’t forget the affair of the Quakeress – conducted in the dark without our knowledge.’

‘I shall never forget that… the fear… the despair…’

‘All settled now, my love.’

She seized his arm suddenly and cried: ‘Oh, John, it is? It is?’

‘Yes, my love, it is,’ he replied firmly. ‘Now we have to think of George’s future. I should like to see him married suitably… and soon.’

‘Although a marriage could come between us and him.’

‘Not if we choose with care.’

‘A German Princess… docile, without friends… coming into a strange country. That is what we need. Not an English bride surrounded by scheming relations.’

‘Exactly, exactly. But I think we should find the bride without fail. George needs to be married and this I know of him, once he is, he will be a loyal faithful husband. If we marry him quickly I believe we shall have little to fear from the influence of scheming women. He is by nature innocent and idealistic. When he takes his marriage vows he will mean them. Our George is at heart a very respectable man. So let us marry him as soon as possible to the right woman. Then there will be an end of this affair of the Lennox girl.’

‘You think it is as simple as that, John dear?’

‘My dearest, it is simple because we are dealing with a very simple man.’

‘Shall we send for him and tell him we propose to look for a wife for him?’

‘I think not. That would drive him to declaring his affection for Sarah Lennox and his intention of marrying her. No. I have to answer this letter. I must do it with the utmost caution. I will write my answer now… we will do it together… and when we feel it is the right one we will despatch it to him. But I think we should act without delay, for promptness could be of vital importance in an affair like this.’

So Lord Bute sat down at the Princess’s writing-table and with her at his side answered the King’s letter:

‘My dear Prince’s kind confidential letter is of too great consequence to return an immediate answer; not but God knows, my dear Sir, I with the utmost grief tell it you, the case admits not of the smallest doubt. However, I will carry your letter with me to the country, weigh every circumstance, and then like an honest man, a most devoted servant, and a faithful friend, lay the whole before you. Think, Sir, in the meantime, who you are, what is your birthright, what you wish to be, and prepare your mind with a resolution to hear the voice of truth, for such alone shall come from me, however painful the office, duty and friendship and a thousand other ties command me, and I will obey though death looked me in the face…’

Bute looked up from the letter into the anxious face of the Princess.

‘It is beautifully expressed, my dearest,’ she said. ‘And so… cautious…’

‘It will prepare him for my answer which will distress him greatly.’

‘And you feel you should go to the country?’

‘For a few days only. I fear if I stay here he will talk to me of this matter, having broken the ice, and that I should show myself unsympathetic which would be the surest way to lose his confidence. No, I will send this letter, and go away for a few days. When I return I shall have decided on the best way of dealing with this matter. And while I am away, my love, you should set enquiries in motion. We must find that suitable Princess for him. The matter is urgent.’

‘What if he marries this girl… secretly as he did…’

Bute shook his head. ‘Her family would not wish that. They will want a royal wedding and a shared coronation. You can depend upon it. Secret marriages are always suspect.’

‘I often think about that…’

‘No, no, my love. Do not even mention her name. It is best forgotten.’

She nodded slowly. ‘Do not be away long, John. I am lost without you.’

He kissed her tenderly.

What a pleasant state of affairs when the King and the Princess Dowager could not do without him.

He would certainly do everything in his very considerable power to keep things as they were in that respect.

George read Lord Bute’s letter and smiling put it into a drawer. Of course his dear friend did not understand the depth of his affection. When he did he would see that marriage with Sarah was the only solution.

He would persuade Lord Bute… and his mother. And if they did not agree?

Well, he told himself, you are the King, you know.

Today he would go to his levee and she would be there. She was often there. He believed her family knew how delighted he was to see her and that was why they always brought her with them. Sometimes he spoke to her; sometimes he contented himself with looking at her. He was a little embarrassed when face to face with her and never quite sure what to say. There was a look of mischief in her eyes which while it delighted him disconcerted him. She was serious beneath, he was sure of that; she was everything a Queen ought to be, but she liked to laugh and tease. That could be very amusing and exciting between two people when they were alone, he believed; but it was a little alarming in public.

She was very different from Hannah. No one could be more different. Perhaps that was why he found her so entrancing. Perhaps he wanted to forget Hannah had ever existed. Memories were so painful and whenever he thought of her now he thought of what would have happened if Hannah had lived and he had had to make known his secret marriage to his ministers. He shivered at the thought. He could imagine Mr Pitt’s reactions; and Newcastle, fool that he was, was at least a politician. He could imagine the talk in the streets… the gossip, the scandal. It would have been insupportable. Lord Bute had told him once when he had brought up the subject that it would have shaken the throne. A king must always think very carefully before he took an important step. He owed it to his throne and his people.

Well, he must not think of Hannah. It was all over. Hannah lay beneath that tombstone under the name of Rebecca Powell. And her children? He felt a pang of uneasiness when he remembered them. But they were well cared for. He had made sure of that. He received reports on their well-being. And he had seen them once or twice. But Lord Bute had pointed out the folly of visiting them because as they grew older they would recognize him. His features were so well known, particularly now that he was King.

‘Content yourself with knowing they are well cared for,’ advised that dear friend and mentor. ‘And when they are of age you can see that they are well placed in the world. Their mother would ask no more of you than that, because it is the best thing possible for all concerned. And now there is only one thing to do. Forget it ever happened. Forget… forget…’

That was exactly what he wanted to do, and on those occasions when he remembered he must quickly push those thoughts out of his head.

And the best one to make him forget was Sarah… who was as different from Hannah as any woman could be.

Sarah, enchanting, frivolous, gay, teasing, tempting, and with royal blood in her veins.

She was at his levee. All the time he was receiving he could see her on the other side of the room with her sister Lady Caroline Fox, and kept taking surreptitious looks at her. Oh, she was lovely. She seemed more beautiful every time he saw her. Perhaps he would speak to her. What should he say? He wished he could think of brilliant witty things. But he was going to marry her. He had decided in that moment. Nothing would satisfy him but marriage with Lady Sarah.

Lady Susan Fox-Strangways was being presented to him by her sister, Anne, who was married to the Earl of Albemarle. A pleasant-looking girl. He liked her; he would have thought her very pretty if he had not been aware all the time of the dazzling perfections of Lady Sarah.

He signed to Lady Susan to sit down and sat beside her. She had a special attraction for him because he knew that she was a very close friend of Sarah’s and he found it easier to talk to her of Sarah than to Sarah herself. Moreover, Sarah was on the other side of the room with her sister and he could keep glancing her way.

He said rather haltingly that it pleased him to see Lady Susan at his levee. He wished she was present more often but he believed her home was in Somerset.

‘That is so, Sire.’

‘Somerset. It is I believe a very pleasant county.’

‘Very pleasant, Your Majesty.’

‘And my lord Ilchester’s seat very… very… pleasant.’

‘Oh yes, Sire, my father’s house is very pleasant.’

‘You will be going there, I suppose.’

‘Yes, Sire, for the summer.’

‘And nothing will bring you back… before the winter?’

‘I don’t know of anything.’

The King was silent and Susan was growing more and more embarrassed. One could not broach a subject to the King and must content oneself with answering, but how boring it was. Moreover, she was aware of Sarah’s eyes on her from across the room. Sarah was looking sly; she was going to accuse her of trying to snatch the King from her as she herself had snatched Newbattle from Caroline Russell.

‘Would you… would you come back to see a coronation?’ asked the King.

‘Oh yes, Sire, I should hope to come back to see that.’

‘I have put off my coronation for a while. I have a reason.’

‘I am sure Your Majesty has.’

‘I thought that a coronation with a Queen would be a much finer sight than one without.’

‘That is surely so, Sire.’

The King looked at her so intently that Lady Susan was alarmed. Good heavens, she thought, is he proposing to me? Has it all been a mistake. Am I the one… not Sarah…

She dared not look at the King and lifting her eyes she saw Sarah glaring at her. Sarah would want a detailed account of this conversation.

‘I have had a great many applications from abroad,’ said the King. ‘Foreign Princesses. I don’t like the idea much.’

‘No, Your Majesty.’

He looked wistful. ‘I have had none from at home.’ He leaned towards her. ‘I should like it better if I had.’

Lady Susan began to tremble. It must be. A proposal of marriage from the King. Oh no! It could not happen in this way. It would have to be a formal approach through her parents. She was dreaming surely… Or the King was mad.

He too was looking across the room at Sarah, which was a relief since he could not see her, Susan’s, discomfiture.

‘What do you think of your friend? You know who I mean.’

He was smiling at Sarah.

‘Oh… oh yes, Sire.’

‘Don’t you think she is the fittest?’

‘Think, Sire?’

He did not seem to hear her. He said firmly: ‘I think none so fit.’ Then he returned to Susan. ‘Come with me,’ he said. ‘I wish to speak to your friend.’

Susan rose and together they crossed the room. Sarah swept an enchanting curtsy.

‘I have been talking to your friend,’ he told her.

‘I have observed Your Majesty,’ she answered pertly.

‘So you were… aware of me?’

‘Sire, everyone is aware of the King.’

He chuckled. ‘Will you ask your friend Lady Susan what I have been saying to. her?’

‘If it is your wish, Sire.’

‘It is my wish. Yes, it is my wish. Ask her to tell you and make her tell you all I said to her. Will you promise me to that?’

‘I promise, Sire.’

George seemed overcome by mirth and emotion. He left the girls and went and joined Lady Pembroke, an old friend of his.

Sarah looked at Susan interrogatively. ‘I’ll tell you when we’re alone. It’s too fantastic.’

Susan had repeated every word the King had said not only to Sarah but to the whole of Sarah’s family.

She must go through it all when she returned to Holland House. Lady Caroline questioned her, so did Mr Fox.

‘Now, Susan, are you sure? He said he thought none so fit. Are you sure of that?’

‘Absolutely sure. I remember every word.’

‘And then he took you over to Sarah and said you were to tell her what he had said.’

‘Yes… it all happened exactly as I have explained.’

‘You could have misconstrued.’

‘No, I’m sure I didn’t. It was all so simple… so straightforward… and so fantastic. Of course I haven’t made up anything.’

The Duke of Richmond called at Holland House, and Susan had to repeat the story to him.

There was a long family conference.

‘It is tantamount to a proposal,’ was the verdict.

‘But,’ said the astute Mr Fox, ‘we must have it made in the correct manner – as soon as possible.’

Lady Sarah was in tears. Lady Susan going to her room found her on her bed, face buried in the pillows.

‘What on earth is wrong?’ cried Susan. ‘I thought you were the heroine of the hour.’

Sarah sat up, dabbing at her eyes. ‘That’s just the point. All this fuss has shown me my true feelings. I love John Newbattle. He’s the one I really want and now that the King has proposed through you I’ll never be allowed to accept him.’

‘You could run away from home and marry him… like your sister did Mr Fox.’

‘It’s a possibility I’ve been thinking of.’

‘Sarah, after the King has expressed his desire to marry you!’

‘What a way to do it. To tell you because he hadn’t the courage to tell me himself.’

‘I think it rather charming,’ said Susan.

‘Because he talked to you? I’ll swear you thought he was proposing to you when he started that rigmarole. Oh, you’re blushing. So you did.’

‘Of course not. It’s not the way Kings propose in any case.’

‘This one did.’

‘You can hardly call it a proposal. He was only saying what he would like, that’s all. Perhaps he has no intention of asking you properly.’

‘Nonsense! He said all that about the coronation. My family are sure he wants to marry me. What they’ve got to do is bring him to the point.’ She sighed. ‘But there is my dear John…’

‘I don’t think he loves you as devotedly as the King does, Sarah.’

‘What nonsense! He adores me. He told me so.’

‘His affection has grown now he knows the King wants to marry you.’

‘Well, why shouldn’t it?’

‘It doesn’t seem the right reason.’

‘It’s not the only reason, idiot. I’ll tell you something. He has written to me.’

‘Who… the King.’

‘No, John. He wants me to meet him in the Park tonight. He has something important to say to me.’

‘You shouldn’t go, Sarah.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Susan! Of course I must go. I have to choose between them, don’t I, and how am I going to do that if I refuse to see them?’

‘The King is considering marrying you and you are going out by night to see another man! You are mad.’

‘And you are very prim, Susan. In any case, I am going.’

‘You have very quickly dried your eyes.’

‘Yes, because I thought they were going to force me to marry George. I have made up my mind that I shall decide. So I am going to meet John tonight in the Park and see what he has to say to me. He has written such a letter. I must show it to you. One moment. It’s in this drawer. No it’s not. Oh, where did I put it? It must be somewhere.’

‘You should be careful where you leave letters like that… particularly as…’

‘“The King is considering marrying you,”’ chanted Sarah. ‘Now, listen, Susan. I am the one who is doing the considering and I am not so sure that it is so wonderful being a Queen after all. There are tiresome duties and levees; there are ministers to receive and horrible visiting royalty. I’ve been thinking that it might be more fun to be a little distant from the throne than actually sitting on it. And it is a matter of whether I prefer gay and amusing John Newbattle to shy George. I think I know, Susan, and tonight I am going to find out.’

Lord Bute, returned from the country, went at once to Kensington to see the King. A very interesting little matter had arisen during his absence. He had always made sure that he had people situated in the right positions to bring him information; and Mr Fox’s house was a terrain he had not neglected. The news which had been brought to him did not concern that famous politician this time, but it did concern someone who was – temporarily he hoped – of more interest still: Lady Sarah Lennox.

A very interesting piece of news. Lady Sarah was inclined to be haughty and was by no means certain that she intended to accept the King’s proposal. She had another string to her bow – that bold and flirtatious young man, son of the Earl of Ancram and grandson of the Marquis of Lothian – John William Newbattle. It seemed that Madam Sarah was inclined to favour that young man in spite of his reputation for fickleness rather than steady King George.

Interesting, and what was more than interesting was the fact that the young lady had agreed to meet John Newbattle in the grounds of Holland House after dark – surely something no young lady should do, particularly one who had a chance of being Queen.

The letter from John Newbattle had actually been delivered into his hands. He carried it in his pocket now as he rode to Kensington to see the King.

George was delighted to receive his dear friend.

‘It seems you have been long away. I know it is only a few days, but your absences always seem long.’

‘Your Majesty is so gracious to me. I am unable to express the pleasure your kindness gives me. I can only say that you, Sire, cannot be so pleased to see me as I am to see you.’

These expressions of affection over, Bute immediately mentioned the matter which was uppermost in his mind.

‘Sire, I have given great thought to your problem.’

‘Ah, I knew you would. I have been thinking of her since I spoke to Lady Susan… in fact, thinking of nothing else.’

Since he spoke to Lady Susan! Bute knew to what he was referring. Everyone knew what he had said to Lady Susan. The news was fast spreading through the Court and London.

‘Has Your Majesty considered what a marriage of this nature would mean?’

‘I have considered everything.’

‘Of course, the Lady Sarah is a charming girl.’

‘I knew you would think so.’

‘Young… very young. She is not yet seventeen, I believe.’

‘There is no harm in being young, surely.’

‘No harm at all. Of course, it has been the custom for the Kings to marry royal persons.’

‘Sarah is royal. Her great-grandfather was Charles II!’

‘Yes, but through a not very creditable union, shall we say. I mean the people look to their Kings to marry Princesses, usually from abroad.’

‘Germans!’ said George. ‘I do not think the people are really very fond of the Germans.’

‘Still… a Princess.’

‘I see, my dearest friend, you have no real objections to offer. Then I do not see why I should not be formally betrothed to Lady Sarah. If I wish it and she wishes it…’

‘Indeed not,’ said Bute quickly, noting the King’s firmness. He put his hand into his pocket and touched Newbattle’s note. He had been wondering whether to show it to the King and would have preferred not to. It would have been so much better to have been able to persuade him of the folly of this obsession. But he could see that the King was set on marrying the girl, and the King could be a very stubborn young man.

There was no help for it, then.

‘Sire, I have to pass on to you something which may cause you some displeasure. I have been debating within myself whether to withhold it, but I realize that I could not be your true friend if I did so.’

‘What is this?’ asked George, and as always on such occasions his thoughts turned to Hannah. Something had come to light. This thought was always at the back of his mind ready to spring forward at the least alarm.

‘I feel, Sire, that you should be absolutely sure that this lady is worthy of you.’

George was relieved. ‘I am absolutely sure. In fact it is really a question of whether I am worthy of her.’

‘The King of England worthy of a little…’ Bute stopped himself in time. ‘If you can prove she is worthy, then I do not see why we should not fight all the opposition – and it will be considerable – to your union with her.’

‘I knew you would be on my side.’

‘Have I not always been?’

‘Always,’ declared George fervently. ‘But what was making you anxious.’

‘Lady Sarah is in love with someone else.’

George grew pale. ‘I… I can’t believe it.’

‘This note has been brought to me by someone who wishes to serve you.’

‘Note… note? What note?’

‘Here. Read it. It is a love letter and you will see it is from Lord Newbattle to Lady Sarah.’

George’s face was scarlet, his blue eyes more prominent than usual, his jaw slacker as he read.

‘So… he asks her to meet him in Holland Park… tonight! What a scoundrel! What of her reputation?’

‘He would have had encouragement to write such a note.’

‘She… she will not go.’

‘Is your Majesty sure of that?’

‘Yes. I know she would not go.’

‘I am going to make a suggestion, Your Majesty. Perhaps it will be distasteful to you and if so, you must forgive me. You know full well that in the past every action of mine has been taken with your good in mind. That will always be so. That is why I come to you now with this letter and risk your displeasure.’

‘I could never never be displeased with such a true friend. But you are wrong about Lady Sarah.’

‘I am sure I am wrong.’

‘I am happy again, then.’

‘But I am concerned for Your Majesty’s welfare. There was that unfortunate affair of…’

‘Yes,’ said George sobered, and even forgetting the perfections of Sarah temporarily.

‘I would not wish to see Your Majesty similarly involved.’

‘Similarly. It is quite different.’

‘Quite different, Your Majesty, that is true. But if this young girl were not all you think her to be a marriage could be disastrous.’

‘But I know her to be…’

‘Then you will bear with my suspicions and know that they are only the fears of one who loves you better than his own life. Your Majesty, if I were convinced that this girl truly loved you and was worthy to be your Queen I should be beside you. And you do not doubt, do you, that together we could not overcome all opposition.’

‘Of course we could.’

‘But I must be convinced myself. I am going to ask Your Majesty’s permission to do something of which you might not approve.’

‘What is that?’

‘I am going to witness this meeting. I am going to see what happens for myself. And if I am convinced…’

‘Yes?’

‘That she is just an impulsive girl. If she goes to this rendezvous with a friend and tells this young man that she wants no more to do with him – then I shall be with Your Majesty. I would say that although the Lady Sarah was a little indiscreet to make such an assignation she is after all an innocent girl and since Your Majesty has such regard for her I would be ready to say that Your Majesty should go ahead with your plans.’

‘I am sure it will happen just as you say.’

‘But I shall be there to witness it. I must satisfy myself. I had thought that perhaps Your Majesty…’

George was silent, staring at Bute.

‘. . . perhaps Your Majesty would wish to accompany me?’

Lord Bute was delighted. He called at once on the Dowager Princess to give her the good news.

‘I think all will be well,’ he informed her, and proceeded to tell her of his great good fortune in securing the note which Newbattle had written to Lady Sarah, giving details of the rendezvous in Holland Park.

‘But you are a… genius!’

‘I would not say that, my dear. But my entire life is given to you and the King, as you know. It is only natural that such devotion should bring results. And this was better than I hoped. I did not ask the King outright to accompany me but I guessed he would be unable to resist coming. And I was right.’

‘And you saw this meeting?’

‘Yes. The lady was, however, accompanied by Lord George Lennox who, you may remember, is married to Newbattle’s sister. I was a little dashed when I saw this, for I believe that flighty young woman capable of real indiscretion. But . . . there was no doubt that she is on very affectionate terms with Newbattle and was certainly not repulsing his advances. I do believe that as far as I can see they were making some arrangements and what could those possibly be with Lord George present? Only this: Newbattle is going to ask his father’s consent to his marriage with Sarah Lennox. Well, the sooner we see that mischievous young woman safely settled into matrimony with master Newbattle, the happier I shall be.’

‘And George – how was he affected by all this?’

‘Very deeply. He is in a state of great melancholy and while I am pleased that he has seen the girl for what she is I am disturbed because it shows how deeply his affection for her goes.’

‘He is a very affectionate young man, I fear. He was really quite cut up over…’

Lord Bute placed his hands playfully over the Princess’s lips. ‘Don’t let us even mention her name.’

‘I often think…’

Lord Bute kissed the lips his finger had touched.

‘Then you must not, my dearest. And our problem at this moment is the Lady Sarah Lennox. Tell me this: What news from abroad?’

‘Colonel Graeme left as you suggested and is now at Mecklenburg-Strelitz. I have not yet had his report on the Princess Charlotte but I am sure when it comes we shall be pleased with it.’

‘That is good. Trust a Scotsman to get on with the job. Let us hope that his report will be good, for we have to act very promptly.’

‘But what he saw in the Park…’

‘Our King is in love. I am sure if my Lady Sarah gave him a good account of what she was doing there he would be ready to believe all she told him. We must be prepared.’

Augusta nodded.

‘Colonel Graeme is well aware of the urgency of the situation.’

Sarah could not believe her eyes. She read the letter several times. It was impossible. The Earl and Countess of Ancram could not give their consent to their son’s marriage with the Lady Sarah Lennox.

It was an insult. And worse still, her lover’s attitude to the affair was despicable.

‘In view of my parents’ views we must perforce end this matter. It is with the deepest regret…’

‘Regret!’ cried Sarah. ‘What a coward he is! Why did I ever think I loved such a man?’

She threw herself on to her bed and wept bitterly. She was weeping – on and off – all through the morning and her sister, Lady Caroline, came to her room to see what was wrong with her.

‘Good Heavens,’ cried Caroline. ‘What a sight you look! And you have to attend the King’s levee this afternoon.’

‘I shall not go.’

‘Don’t be a fool,’ retorted Caroline. ‘Of course you will go. The King expects you.’

‘I don’t want to see the King. I don’t want to see anyone.’

Lady Caroline summoned the maids and told them that the Lady Sarah was suffering from a cold. She must attend a levee this afternoon and Lady Caroline suggested that her face should be bathed and pads of witch-hazel put over her eyes. She was to lie flat on her back for an hour in this state, by the end of which time she should look more like herself. Lady Caroline would choose what gown she was to wear.

‘And you will stop being foolish this instant,’ she hissed.

Lady Sarah lay on her bed and thought about Newbattle’s letter and his so-called love for her which had been forgotten at the first sign of opposition. George was different, she told herself. But she did not want George.

I don’t want either of them! she murmured. And if I don’t want them, I won’t have them.

She was sullen when it was time to dress for the levee; but Lady Caroline declared that she was passable. She was, in fact, so pretty that nothing seemed to hide that prettiness. So the party set out.

George was watching for her eagerly when she arrived and he was debating with himself whether or not he would speak to her. He had told himself that Lady Susan had probably forgotten to say anything to Sarah and that was why she had gone to meet Newbattle. She surely would not have gone if she knew what he had said.

Yes, he told himself, that is it. She was waiting for some declaration and despairing of ever getting it she went to meet Newbattle in the Park. After all, her brother was with her. There was nothing wrong… just a little immodest perhaps, but then Sarah was so young she would not realize that.

Once he had heard that she did not know what he had said to Susan he would say it to her himself, and what joy it would be to watch her pleasure!

He went to her.

‘Have you seen your friend Lady Susan lately?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

That bewildered him. But then she had seen the girl, who had not told her. That was it.

‘Has she told you what I said to her?’

‘Yes.’

He was astonished. Then why was she looking so miserable? This was something he had not considered.

‘Did she tell you all?’

‘Yes, all.’

‘And… do you approve?’

Sarah turned her head away. How could she say to the King: I don’t want you. I’m in love with Lord Newbattle who has decided to forget all about me because his parents tell him to.

George was astounded and mortified. There was nothing he could do but walk away.

Her family were furious. What had she done? She had ruined her chances.

‘I don’t care. I don’t care. I am tired of them… both.’

‘Oh, so this is pique on account of Newbattle, is it?’

‘What if it is?’

‘Oh, Sarah, you fool, you fool. You have thrown away the greatest chance that ever came to a woman.’

‘And a good thing, too.’

‘Everyone could see that the King was most hurt. I doubt he will ever want to speak to you again.’

‘Then I’m glad.’

‘You silly creature.’

‘I don’t want to stay here to see… Lord Newbattle. I want to go away for a while.’

‘It’s a pity you didn’t leave with Susan and stay in Ilchester for a while.’

‘Yes, a great pity. I wish I had.’

‘Well, I think it would be a good idea if you left town for a while. Go to Goodwood and stay there until you are in a better mood. Don’t stay too long, for if you do the King may have forgotten you.’

The next day Lady Sarah left for Goodwood.

On the road to Goodwood, Sarah’s carriage was overtaken by another and when she saw who was in it she cried out in delight, for it was Lord Newbattle.

He left his carriage and came into hers.

‘So you are off to Goodwood,’ he said.

‘How did you know, and it is no affair of yours.’

‘I learn everything about you and it is my affair. I always make it my business to find out where you are.’

‘Have you Papa’s permission to do so?’

‘You didn’t think that letter was important, did you?’

‘What else should I think of it?’

‘I wrote it because they stood over me and expected me to. I didn’t mean it, of course.’

‘You didn’t mean it!’

‘Of course not. What a simpleton you are, Sarah. Of course I didn’t. We’ll be married, and when the deed is done we’ll tell them and they’ll have to accept it. That’s the way it’s done. You ask your sister and Mr Fox.’

Sarah was laughing.

‘Still,’ she pouted. ‘You should not have written such a letter. I cried over it, and then I was very sullen with the King.’

‘Serve him right,’ said Newbattle. ‘That’s what I like to hear. I shall be a constant visitor to Goodwood.’

He left her, and the carriages, one behind the other, rattled on to Goodwood – which was only two days ride from London.

Sarah was looking forward to a very pleasant time. She had made up her mind. Lord Newbattle was the man she really loved. It must be so because he only had to appear to make her happy; besides it was because she was so angry with Lord Newbattle that she had snubbed the King.

When the Foxes and Richmonds heard that Newbattle was visiting Sarah at Goodwood they were incensed and they decided that she should not stay there. Lord Ilchester suggested that she should go to his estate at Bruton in Somerset and as his daughter Susan was already there, Sarah agreed.

When she told him she was going, Newbattle was annoyed.

‘That is too far for me to come and see you. You must refuse to go.’

‘Too far. So I am not worth such a journey?’

Newbattle yawned. Lady Sarah was certainly capricious and it had been quite enough to ride out to Goodwood. He was certainly not going all the way to Somerset to see her. There were many other young ladies who found him fascinating; and although Sarah was the prettiest of them – and admired by the King – he was inclined to think she took him for granted. In fact, although Sarah was attractive he wished her to realize that he was equally so, and he was certainly not going to Somerset to see her.

Sarah retorted: ‘Very well, stay away.’ But in her heart she did not believe he would, for had he not written that letter cancelling their betrothal and then told her he had not meant it. No, with such an attractive young man as Newbattle, who was so very much aware of his charms, it was necessary to show him that he could not hope to hold her affections unless he made an effort to do so.

She was determined to go to Somerset.

Lady Susan was there and that was fun. Each day Sarah waited for Lord Newbattle to arrive, but he did not come; and she began to think that he had meant what he said.

Then one day when she and Susan were riding, Sarah fell from her horse and broke her leg. She had to be carried back to Bruton and there the leg was set and news sent to London of what had happened.

When the King heard he was stricken with grief.

‘I must go and see her,’ he declared; but Lord Bute pointed out to him that he could not possibly travel so far. He must remember that he was a King and Kings could not travel without an entourage. It would take a long time to get ready and everyone would know where he was going and why. It was simply impossible. He must realize that.

George, growing more and more sensible of his position, did realize the truth of this.

‘But,’ he said, ‘I shall write to her. She must know that I am thinking of her at such a time.’

Bute was disturbed.

‘He does not appear to have recovered from this infatuation,’ he told the Princess Augusta. ‘She so rudely snubbed him and yet he is deeply concerned because the tiresome creature has broken a leg.’

‘Perhaps we shall soon be having some good news from Colonel Graeme.’

‘I fervently hope so.’

Mr Fox and Lady Caroline travelled down to Somerset accompanied by their son, Charles James, and the Duke and Duchess of Richmond.

Sarah was very amused to see them. She had, in fact, been a good patient and as long as Susan was there to talk to her she did not appear to mind being incapacitated.

‘You see,’ she said to Susan, ‘what an important person I have become.’

Every day she waited in vain for a visit from Newbattle, and Lady Caroline told her rather maliciously that Lord Newbattle had been informed of the accident.

‘And what did he say? What did he do?’

‘He took it very calmly,’ replied Lady Caroline. ‘In fact his remark is being whispered round the Court.’

‘Oh?’ Sarah dimpled. ‘What was it?’

‘Simply that it would do no great harm, for your legs were ugly enough before.’

‘I don’t believe it.’

‘Now don’t excite yourself. It’s time you learned what sort of man he is. He cares nothing for you. He is amusing himself. He thinks it extremely amusing that you could be such a little fool as to throw away the chance of a lifetime… for nothing.’

Sarah’s lips began to quiver. How could he be so cruel, first not to bother to visit her, then not to care that she had broken her leg? And most heartless of all, to say such cruel things about her!

‘Don’t be so silly,’ said Lady Caroline. ‘You are coming back to London as soon as your leg is well enough for you to travel. Then perhaps you will show the King how honoured you are by his attentions.’

Talking it over with Susan, Sarah admitted that her sister was right.

George was the better man – and he was a King. It was characteristic of Sarah that now the decision had been made for her she should return all her enthusiasm towards it and behave as though what she wanted more than anything on Earth was to marry George.

During her convalescence she and Susan discussed at length the excitement of being a Queen.

And as soon as she was well enough to travel she returned to London.

It was May when she arrived. As soon as George knew she was back he became excited, and Bute mournfully told the Princess that he was as infatuated as ever.

Hearing that Lady Sarah was going to the play – her first engagement on returning to her brother-in-law’s house – George announced his intentions of going too and everyone noticed that he spent the time looking at Lady Sarah rather than at the performance on the stage. All attention was focused on them. It seemed certain that George had decided to marry her.

The following Sunday when she attended his Drawing Room as soon as he saw her he was at her side and he talked to her during the whole of the session. She was very different from the coquettish girl who had flouted him before she had gone to the country; she smiled and showed quite clearly how his attention delighted her. In such a mood Sarah was more charming than ever and people remarked that they made a very handsome couple. Soon, thought the Princess uneasily, the people in the streets would hear of this; they would cheer them when they went out, for nothing would please them more than for the King to marry a commoner – and an Englishwoman at that. They would much prefer such a match to a German one.

The Princess Dowager was frantic.

She sent for her eldest daughter Augusta and told her that she must try to prevent the King’s reaching Sarah Lennox at any function. Augusta, who was a rather short young woman, by no means handsome but possessing the family’s clear complexion, fair hair and blue eyes, was envious of the undoubted beauty of Sarah Lennox. She had no love for her mother, who had shown little interest in her – or indeed any of the family, all her attentions being concentrated on George – but Augusta liked to meddle in Court affairs and this gave her an excellent opportunity, so she decided to do what she could to foil the match George was trying to make with Sarah Lennox. Lady Bute, who had been coming to Court recently, for both her husband and the Princess agreed that she could not be shut out indefinitely, appeared to accept her husband’s relationship with the Princess with no pangs of jealousy. She was wise enough to realize what great advantages came to her and her children through his close relationship with the royal family, for it was not only the Princess who adored him but the King as well. Bute had in March become Secretary of State at the King’s express wish, and Lady Bute understood even more fully that she would be foolish to protest about anything that touched on her husband’s advancement at Court. Therefore she was a staunch ally of the Princess and her husband, and would certainly play her part in spoiling the Lennox girl’s hopes.

Lady Susan Stewart, the Princess’s bedchamber woman was told she must help too, and the three of them could make a circle about Lady Sarah and fend off the King that way, for George was too polite to ignore them if they stood in the way of his reaching the young lady.

This was small comfort, the Princess agreed; but at least it was something and the situation was so desperate that they could not afford to ignore any help.

New would soon arrive from Germany and then she trusted the King could be persuaded to do his duty.

On the 4th of June there was a ball to celebrate the King’s birthday and Sarah attended this. Her leg, however, not being completely well, prevented her from dancing, so she was obliged to sit out while the others danced. This gave the King some opportunity to speak to her and made it very difficult for the bodyguard to prevent his doing so.

Sarah was clearly enjoying the situation – sitting there looking more beautiful than anyone at the ball, conscious all the time of the King’s adoring glances which she returned, partly because she had made up her mind that she would be Queen of England, partly to foil the bodyguard whose purpose she knew too well.

When she thought of the casual treatment of Lord Newbattle she felt furious; and that alone, she told herself, would make her love George, who was so different. She sat dreaming of being the Queen and governing him as she was sure she could. He would be a good and faithful husband, always ready to please his wife. Very different from Lord Newbattle!

The King’s sister, Princess Augusta, had come to speak to her accompanied by Lady Bute and Lady Susan Stewart.

How maddening I They surrounded her and shut out the sight of the King.

How was she? How sad that she could not dance! And had she enjoyed her stay in the country… apart from the time when she had been incapacitated? That must have been most annoying, and painful too. Oh, she was very brave to come to the ball. Should she not have stayed in the country until she was quite… quite better. But perhaps she felt she must come. Life in the country was perhaps a little dull.

Oh, be silent, thought Lady Sarah, while she smiled at them and answered their silly questions. Do you think I don’t know what you are doing? You are trying to keep the King away from me and you won’t succeed.

Nor did they, for here was George unable to endure the separation any longer.

‘Augusta,’ he said to his sister, ‘I should like to see you dance the Betty Blue.’

Augusta looked startled, but the King did not seem to notice; he was smiling at Sarah.

‘It is a dance that you are acquainted with. I am very fond of it because it was taught to me by a lady.’

‘Was it, Your Majesty?’ She was smiling up at him bewitchingly, more for the benefit of the watching ladies – whom she was sure were grinding their teeth with rage – than for him.

‘Do you not know what lady?’ he asked.

‘No, Sire.’

‘Well, I will tell you. It was taught me by a very pretty lady who came from Ireland, a year last November.’

Sarah put her head on one side pretending to consider, which delighted the King.

‘I am talking to her now,’ prompted George. ‘She taught it to me at the ball on Twelfth Night.’

Sarah laughed, watching the sick looks on the faces of the three women. ‘In truth. Your Majesty, I did not remember until you reminded me.’

‘Perhaps you did not. But I have a very good memory for what relates to that lady. I had a pretty new country dance of my own, which should have been danced on the late King’s birthday… if he had lived. What do you think I named it?’

‘I have no idea, Sire.’

‘The 25th of February. That is a very important date to me. Do you know why?’

She pretended to be confused and stammered: ‘I… I cannot think, Sire. I know it is my birthday.’

He laughed triumphantly. ‘That is why.’

The Princess Augusta groaned inwardly at this conversation which the King seemed to find sparkling with wit, and which showed, thought the Princess, how deeply in love he was if he could mistake such puerile utterings for conversation even.

She would report what had been said to her mother – and it seemed that others would be reporting it all over the place because there was no doubt that many had their ears cocked.

So the King stayed at the side of Lady Sarah during most of the evening, now and then being forced, reluctantly it was obvious, to do his duty and dance. But he lost no time in returning to her chair. In fact, so absorbed was he that he remained talking to her until one o’clock, quite forgetting that the dancers were waiting for him to end the ball.

No one was in any doubt after that birthday ball of the King’s feelings for Sarah Lennox.

There was jubilation at Holland House.

‘The King,’ said Lady Caroline, ‘is surely on the brink of a declaration.’

The Princess Augusta was sighing with relief. She sent at once for Lord Bute. Colonel Graeme had reported that a marriage of the King of England and his sister Charlotte Sophia would be very acceptable to the Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz and also to Charlotte Sophia’s mother the Dowager Grand Duchess. The Colonel described the Princess’s appearance as pleasant (which implied that she was no beauty) and added that in his opinion she appeared to be a bride in every way suitable for His Majesty.

‘There must now be no delay,’ said the Princess. ‘We must talk to George.’

Bute agreed and Augusta asked her son if he would call on her as she had something of great importance to say to him.

George arrived, having no notion of what was to be discussed, but Augusta did not leave him long in doubt.

‘My son,’ she said, ‘it is time you were married.’

George smiled happily. ‘I myself have been thinking that.’

‘There has as yet been no coronation,’ went on the Princess.

‘No. I wished my Queen to share in it.’

‘That will be excellent and we have found a very suitable bride for you.’

George was silent, and the Princess glanced at Bute who said quietly: ‘Colonel Graeme reports from Mecklenburg-Strelitz that the Princess Charlotte Sophia will be an ideal bride for you and she and her family are eager for the marriage.’

‘This… is impossible.’

‘It is highly suitable,’ said his mother sharply.

‘You do not understand,’ said the King. ‘I have already decided.’

‘Then I trust you will think again, for this is of the utmost importance.’

‘I have pondered a great deal on this matter. I love the Lady Sarah Lennox and she loves me.’

‘Are you sure of that, Sire?’ asked Bute gently.

‘Sure of it! I am never more sure of anything.’

The Princess was about to speak but Bute looked at her and she nodded, implying that he must direct the way this painful interview should go.

‘Sire,’ said Bute in his kindest and most tender voice, ‘a little while ago that young lady was making it very clear that she preferred another gentleman to you.’

‘That was not so. She was merely… amusing herself.’

‘Amusing herself? When the King had shown preference for her?’

‘I did not wish her to regard me as a King but as a man.’

‘She clearly did neither,’ retorted the Princess tartly. ‘She treated you like a foolish boy and I must say that you have behaved like one – to allow her to flout you, use you to attract this young… young rake… and then beckon you when she finds he has done with her!’

‘This… this is not so.’

‘The King is clearly deeply affected by Lady Sarah,’ said Bute gently.

George turned to him. Best of friends! Always reliable! He would understand and help him to explain.

‘And in that case,’ said George, ‘since we love each other would it not be desirable for us to marry?’

‘I fear,’ Bute reminded him, still in the same kind voice, ‘it would not be desirable from the nation’s point of view. You see, Sire, you are a King. You are young and have not until now been brought face to face with your obligations. Your marriage is not your own affair. It is the nation’s. Every King or Queen has to face this problem. It rarely happens that what they desire is what the nation needs. It is the sad side of a ruler’s life. Self-sacrifice. Again and again he must pass by what he desires to give his country what it needs.’

George was beginning to lose his confidence. ‘But why should the nation not want Sarah?’

‘A King’s sons and daughters must be royal,’ said the Princess. ‘They should have royal blood on both sides.’

‘Sarah is royal,’ cried George eagerly.

The Princess laughed. ‘Yes, descended from a whore!’

George flushed as though he had been struck. ‘I beg of you, Madam, do not say such a thing.’

‘I am concerned with the truth,’ retorted his mother. ‘We all know where the Richmonds got their title. Through Louise de Keroualle, sent from France by the King of that country to be his spy and the King of England’s mistress. That at least is common knowledge.’

‘You… can scarcely blame Sarah.’

‘I do not blame her. I merely say she is unfit to be Queen of England. George, be reasonable. The people of this country are waiting for an announcement of your marriage. They expect you to marry. They are growing impatient. And they expect you to make the right marriage.’

‘I am sure I am the best judge…’

The Princess said hotly: ‘As you were the best judge in that disastrous matter of the Quaker girl.’

George caught his breath in horror. He could not bear to think of Hannah. When he did so he was overcome by feelings of remorse and inadequacy.

Lord Bute was at his side, laying a gentle hand on his arm.

‘Your Majesty,’ he said softly, ‘that affair is done with. May I speak frankly?’

George nodded.

‘Your Majesty should not feel remorse over that affair. It was true there were difficulties… but there need not have been. Had you consulted me in the beginning, I could have arranged matters satisfactorily for you and there would have been no trouble. Your Majesty is good and honest and my heart rejoices to see it – but the world is full of scheming men and women…’

‘Sarah is not scheming.’

‘Indeed no. She is an enchanting young girl, unsure of her mind, it is true, flitting from one to the other, unable to come to a decision… a delightful creature. But she is surrounded by ambitious men and women who will seek to guide you through her and separate you from your true friends.’

‘You mean yourself…’

‘Myself and Her Highness, your mother.’

‘No one would ever do that.’

‘I am sure Your Majesty would not allow it, but they would attempt it. In the interests of the country, Your Majesty should accept the Princess Charlotte Sophia… and…’

‘And Sarah?’ whispered George.

‘If she truly loved you she would consent to become your mistress. Other women have had to take a similar decision. It would be a test of her love.’

‘I should not ask her to. I should not care for such an association. When I marry I intend to be a faithful husband. I intend to set an example to my people.’

‘Noble sentiments, and they do Your Majesty credit. You can set the pattern of your Court and I know you will do it. Profligacy, so rife in the last reign, will disappear and it will be due to our King. That is magnificent. But you must have a woman who will help you in this. There must be no uncertainty after marriage. No wandering out by night to confer with other men… nothing of that sort.’

‘It was only mischief.’

‘There must be no mischief. Your Majesty, I beg of you listen to Her Highness, your mother. You never had, and never will have, a better friend in the world.’

‘Yes, listen to me and listen to my Lord Bute. When have we ever failed you?’

‘Never, but…’

‘Then heed our words now,’ pleaded Bute. ‘The country needs this marriage with the Princess Charlotte, and you must give the country what it needs.’

‘No,’ said the King. ‘I have heard enough. I am going to marry Sarah.’

He bowed abruptly and left them.

The Princess was in despair, but Bute was not so despondent.

‘Our words have had some effect,’ he said.

‘What if he goes to Holland House and actually asks for her hand?’

‘I do not think he will act so rashly. I shall stay close with him during the next days. I shall bring him to see where his duty lies.’

Augusta felt faintly relieved. Her confidence in Lord Bute never wavered.

When the King rode out from Kensington Palace he passed Holland House in the grounds of which Sarah, looking delightful as a country girl in a sunbonnet, was helping to make the hay.

He stopped and spoke to her. How enchanting she was! How wonderful it would have been if he had been a country squire and she the daughter of a neighbour! He could fancy that, on a morning like this.

She looked expectant. Was she hoping he would ask her to marry him?

‘I shall,’ he told himself a little too defiantly.

He rode on past Holland House. A King had his duties to his people. Hannah had said that. No one had realized that more than she had. She had wanted to keep in the background so that she did not embarrass him.

Hannah had been different – a Quakeress and niece of a linen-draper. Sarah had royal blood in her veins and they could say what they liked, it was royal blood by whatever means it had got there.

I shall not listen to them, George insisted. I am going to marry Sarah.

Not listen to Lord Bute, his best friend, whose advice he constantly sought? Lord Bute was so certain that it would be wrong to marry Sarah.

This was one instance where Lord Bute was wrong.

But Lord Bute had never been wrong… until now.

It was noticed that the King looked very melancholy as he rode along.

Bute came to the King’s apartment, his manner grave.

‘Your Majesty, I have just heard news which disturbs me.’

‘What. Is it Sarah?’

Bute shook his head. ‘A man named Green was arrested at Westminster for making disloyal comments about Your Majesty.’

‘I’ll dareswear he is not the only one. There were disloyal comments enough about my grandfather. Why should I escape?’

‘These, Your Majesty, were directed against your relationships with… a Quakeress.’

‘What?’ cried the King turning pale.

‘I heard that this man had talked of your enticing the Quakeress from her home and setting her up in a house where you visited her.’

‘Is that… so?’

‘Your Majesty will see how unhealthy it is that such rumours should be allowed to grow.’

‘But… will they grow?’

‘Yes, Your Majesty, unless you marry and show the people that you live respectably with your Queen.’

‘It is what I intend to do.’

‘There would be a scandal if you did not marry the bride who has been selected for you. Colonel Graeme is already negotiating. If you married the Lady Sarah all this scandal about the Quakeress would be revived.’

‘I do not see why.’

‘This man,’ Bute went on, ‘was fined and allowed to go free with a warning. But there will be others to chatter. We must stop this gossip without fail. And the only way is to marry the Princess who has been chosen for you.’

‘No,’ said George. ‘I will marry Lady Sarah.’

But Lord Bute was sure that the King’s resolution was weakening.

George could not sleep. All night he had been thinking, Hannah! Sarah! They were together in his thoughts. He could hear their voices in his imagination quite clearly. ‘If you really love me,’ said Sarah’s, ‘you will marry me. You are the King. You have but to say the word and none can stop you.’ Hannah’s said: ‘Think, George. Thou thought thou lovest me once. Remember thy vows. Thou wanted to make me Princess of Wales, Queen to be. And now… thou hast forgotten. Thou wouldst have risked thy crown for the sake of a love that was so ephemeral. See how mistaken thou wert.’

It was true. He had believed he would love Hannah for ever and now he scarcely remembered her – only to shiver with horror to contemplate the folly he might have committed. Yet Hannah had borne his children… he had married Hannah. The thought made him go cold with fear.

Hannah, he thought, you are dead and buried but you will live with me for ever.

And her voice seemed to come out of the darkness: ‘Art thou sure that I am dead and buried, George?’

He faced the truth, the dreadful uncertainty. No. He was not sure. The new gravestone rose up clear in his mind as he had seen it on that day. Rebecca Powell. Who was Rebecca Powell? He had never found out. Why, because even then he had preferred not to know what it was better not to know.

Lord Bute had advised him then. His dearest friend was right. When had he not been right? He was beside him to guide him through all the difficulties which lay ahead. He should trust his friend, and his friend said: ‘You cannot marry Sarah.’

Of course they were right. Kings married the women who were chosen for them. They did not marry the nieces of linen-drapers; they did not even marry the daughters of noblemen. But they did. Henry VIII had done it. Anne Boleyn, Katherine Howard. Two heads without bodies laughed at him in the darkness. Yes, and look what became of us. Edward IV had married Elizabeth Woodville for love. He could hear the voices of her little boys crying in the Tower as they were done to death.

It was folly to think of these events in connection with himself. He was a man of gentle nature, he only wanted to live an upright life, to live in harmony with the woman he loved and the family they would raise; he wanted to set a good example to his people, to be happy and make them happy.

That was the crux of the matter, as Lord Bute would say. A King must not think of his own desires but of the nation he governed.

‘I made a great sacrifice for thee,’ a voice seemed to say. ‘George, thou must make this sacrifice for thy country.’

‘What sacrifice?’ he whispered. ‘What sacrifice did you make?’

But he knew. He had suspected and had not wished to know. But in his heart he knew.

She was haunting him. Perhaps she did not want to see him happy with Sarah. Oh no, that could not be said of one who had made such a sacrifice as Hannah had made. But he was imagining this. What was he thinking of? Even now he did not know and he would not seek the truth because he did not want to face it.

All through that night he wrestled with his problem, and Hannah was constantly in his thoughts.

By the morning she had convinced him. He must sacrifice his own desires for the sake of the country.

When he went riding he passed Holland House and there was Sarah in her sunbonnet making hay. He stopped to talk to her and she was very gay and inviting; but when he had talked for a while he rode on.

He believed his heart was broken.

The Dowager Princess was as ever delighted by my Lord Bute’s brilliance and devotion.

‘You have turned failure into success,’ she cried. ‘I must confess that I was in great fear. And you did it through gentleness and reason.’

‘It is the only way to manage George. We must, though, have the public announcement made as soon as possible. I confess I shall not feel easy in my mind until it is made.’

‘The Privy Councillors should be summoned at once and George himself must make the announcement. I agree with you and shall tremble until he has done so.’

‘He will do it,’ Bute assured her. ‘George’s goodness is our salvation. He is a young man who is determined to do his duty. Would there were more in the world like him. It would be a different place then.’

‘Ah yes, a good boy,’ sighed his mother. ‘What a pity that he should have to be stupid as well.’

George summoned the Privy Council to hear a matter of urgent and important business. The notifications were marked ‘absolute secret’, and the councillors arrived expecting that the King had decided to make peace or had come to some such momentous decision.

When they arrived he faced them, looking stern and pale, and he appeared to have lost that look of boyish innocence.

He stood up boldly and even as he did so he had a strong inclination to disband the meeting, to tell them all it was a great mistake.

But Lord Bute was there smiling at him encouragingly, anxious for him, wishing him to know that he could help him. ‘You can make her your mistress,’ said Bute, like a fond parent offering a child a sweetmeat to take with the medicine. But that was not George’s way.

‘Be a King,’ said his mother; and she was right. Before he was a lover, he must be a King.

He began to speak a little falteringly at first but his voice strengthened as he proceeded:

‘Having nothing so much at heart as to procure the welfare and happiness of my people, and to render the same stable and permanent to posterity, I have, ever since my accession to the throne, turned my thoughts towards the choice of a Princess for my consort; and now with great satisfaction acquaint you that after the fullest information and mature deliberation, I am come to a resolution to demand in marriage the Princess Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, a Princess distinguished by every eminent virtue and amiable endowment, whose illustrious line has constantly shown the firmest zeal for the Protestant religion and a particular attachment to my family. I have judged proper to communicate to you these my intentions, in order that you may be fully appraised of a matter so highly important to me and to my kingdoms and which, I persuade myself, will be most acceptable to all my loving subjects.’

Lord Bute could scarcely hide his triumph, but his expression was one of deepest compassion and admiration as he met the King’s gaze.

As soon as possible he was with the Princess Augusta.

‘We must be prompt. There must be no delay. Betrothals have come to nothing before. This marriage must now take place at the earliest possible moment. Only then can we rest. Do you agree?’

‘I am in complete accord.’

‘Then I propose sending Lord Harcourt – a man I can trust – to Strelitz without delay. The Princess Charlotte must come to England at once.’

‘Let it be done, my dear.’

Lady Sarah could not believe the news. It was impossible. How could he have talked to her as he had when all the time he must have been making arrangements to marry the Princess Charlotte? She could have believed Newbattle capable of such duplicity, but not George.

Lady Caroline Fox was furious. She stamped up and down the apartment.

‘You have been a fool. You have thrown away the biggest chance you will ever get! It was all that folly in the beginning with Newbattle.’

Lady Sarah wept; but Mr Fox came in and shook his head over her. ‘It is a great calamity,’ he said. ‘When I consider all the good you might have brought to the family and all the disappointment you have brought us, I am speechless.’

‘I wish you would be,’ cried Sarah. ‘The whole lot of you.’

Then she threw her head into the pillows and put her fingers in her ears and refused either to look or listen to them.

When they left her she rose from her bed and looked at herself in the mirror. She was pretty. No one she knew was as pretty. And he had thought so. Why had he done this? Why had he insulted her… so publicly. It was not revenge for the way she had treated him over Newbattle. She was sure of that. And he had been so timorous… so eager to please her. He had behaved as though he really loved her.

‘And now… jilted,’ she said dramatically.

She was angry not so much because she had lost George – or rather a crown – but because he had made everyone think that he was going to ask her to marry him and then had, without warning, asked someone else. Everyone would be talking about the King’s engagement and when they did that they would talk about her. Poor Sarah Lennox, they would say. Newbattle would laugh. It was not really very pleasant.

She wished Susan were here. She would have had something to say about this and Susan was always good to talk to.

She could not talk to Susan, so it might be a comfort to write to her.

She took up her pen.

‘Even last Thursday the day the news came out, the hypocrite had the face to come up and speak to me with all the good humour in the world. He must have sent to that woman before you went out of town. Then what business had he to begin again? In short, his behaviour is that of a man who has neither sense, good nature nor honesty.’

There was some comfort in setting her feelings on paper, but nothing could alter the fact that the Lady Sarah Lennox had been jilted – and in the most public manner imaginable.