The Prince and the Quakeress - Plaidy Jean - Страница 23

The Princess shuddered.

‘As it is there is this harmless woman,’ went on Lord Bute. ‘No, we should rejoice that it is who it is. Although, of course, we have had our little lesson. All to the good. We will learn from it. We have been warned. George is not the child we thought him. He is capable of taking strong action. It is good we learned that...in time.’

‘You are such a comfort to me, my dear.’

‘It is my purpose in life...to please and comfort you.’

• • •

The tall house in Tottenham was an ideal setting. It was surrounded by gardens—completely isolated. It was furnished luxuriously; cared for by many soft-footed servants, well paid, all aware that their high wages were the reward of discretion.

There was a sewing-woman to make beautiful dresses for the mistress of the house. There was a music teacher; there were books for her to read. She had her carriage—a closed one—in which she could ride out when she wished. Everything had been planned with care.

When she had first arrived here Hannah had been bewildered. For twenty-three years she had lived more quietly than most girls and then, since a young boy had smiled at her as she sat in her uncle’s window, she had been swept into an adventure so romantic, so incredible, that when she awoke in the night she had to convince herself that she had not dreamed it all.

When she had stepped into the carriage and found the Prince waiting for her she had been too overcome by joy for anything else. She and the Prince had clung together as they rattled along, assuring each other of their undying love. She asked nothing more; nor did he. Both of them refused to look beyond the immediate future. They were in love; they were alone; Hannah had successfully escaped to him; they asked nothing more.

He took her to the house. ‘It is planned for you.’

‘It is a palace...it is an enchanted place.’

‘Your being here makes it so,’ he told her.

They went through the house together.

‘It is so large for one.’

‘But I shall be here often, as often as I can.’ He turned to her suddenly. ‘I intended to marry you. It is only if I married you that I could be completely happy.’

‘Thou—marry me! The Prince of Wales marry me...the linen-draper’s niece!’

‘I wanted to marry you. It was what I planned.’

She embraced him tenderly. He was a child after all He really believed that the Prince of Wales could marry the niece of a tradesman.

‘Once we were married,’ he insisted, ‘they would have had to accept it.’

She shook her head. They never would. Unworldly as she was, she knew that. Did he really think that he could make her Queen of England?

‘But they married you to that man Axford.’

Perhaps, she thought, it was as well, otherwise what folly would he have been prepared to commit?

‘I had to save you from that...’ he went on.

She kissed his hands. ‘How can I thank thee...’

‘No...no,’ he cried. ‘It is I who should thank vou. Oh. Hannah, they were too quick for us. I should never have let them marry you to Axford. Now, you see, we cannot marry.’

She felt old and wise; she led him to a sofa and drew him down beside her. She held his head against her breast as though he were indeed a child.

She said tenderly: ‘My love, marriage is impossible, so we must needs do without it. It was no fault of ours. The intention was there. I had no love for Isaac Axford, so I count it no marriage...nothing but a few words spoken before a priest who in a short time will have no power to marry people in this way. We will call it no marriage. Thou stood beside me in spirit...it is to thee that I consider myself married this day.’

He lifted his head to look at her wonderingly.

‘Oh, Hannah,’ he whispered, ‘how wonderful you are!’

• • •

She went about the house like a young married woman in her new home. She sang as she never had before. She was happy. She had thrown aside her old beliefs. Uncle Wheeler thought that we were not put on earth to be happy and that if one felt an excess of happiness one should be wary and ask oneself if the devil was not looking over one’s shoulder. Well, Hannah was happy. And she no longer believed in Uncle Wheeler’s doctrines. She had come to a new and glorious understanding that human beings were put into the world to find happiness and the ones that did so should remember this and do all in their power to keep it.

The Prince came regularly. He was now the lover—no longer the boy. He had turned sixteen, but he seemed several years older than the boy who had brought her here. He was a husband—for that was how he saw himself. Nothing else was possible to him. He told her that there was much profligacy at his grandfather’s Court and it shamed him. When he was King he would set up a new standard of morals. He would see that the sanctity of marriage was respected.

Hannah did not look as far as that. She wondered what would happen when he became King and his ministers insisted on his marrying; there would have to be a Queen of England and it would not be Hannah Lightfoot. But that was a long way off. In the meantime she was happy; she must stay happy; and happiness was here in the present not in the vague and distant future.

He wished that he could live here. What fun it would be. Mr. and Mrs…Guelph. Or perhaps Colonel and Mrs. George. That was the name in which he had taken the house: Colonel George. Guelph was too dangerous.

He was happy. There was only one regret, that he could have been legally married to Hannah and could have told the world so.

However, as Hannah said, they had so much. They had each other, the chance to meet frequently; they had love; and they knew that their intentions were honourable they could rely on each other’s fidelity; and they were married in the sight of God.

They must not ask more. If they did, Fate would consider them greedy and perhaps decide to deprive them of some of their blessings.

They must be happy. And while they could be together, safe from discovery, she was happy; she asked nothing more.

• • •

A carriage came to the door of the house.

Hannah was horrified. It was not her lover. Then who? No one called at the house. She must shut herself away, refuse to see any visitors. What if it were her uncle come to take her away...or her husband!

From behind a curtained window she saw a woman get out of the carriage; she was veiled, but she was relieved to recognize her as Jane.

She rang for her servant. ‘There is a lady below,’ she said. ‘Please bring her to me without delay.’

Jane came into the room, throwing back her veil, and they embraced affectionately.

‘But it’s magnificent,’ cried Jane. ‘Oh...it’s quite magnificent. You lucky creature!’

‘Jane...what brings you here?’

‘To see you, of course. And...to warn you.’

‘To warn me of what?’

‘Let me sit down. And what about a dish of tea? I’m thirsty.’

Hannah rang for the maid and gave an order, while Jane looked on with admiration.

‘Different from the Market, eh?’

‘Jane tell me of what thou wished to warn me.’

‘They are searching for you. There’s a great stir among the Society of Friends.’

Hannah grew pale. ‘They may have followed thee here...’

‘Not they! I was careful. Never fear that I would lead them to you, Hannah. I was questioned: "Where is she?" "What do you know?" Mr. H. came to my rescue. He swore I knew nothing...and they couldn’t go against a girl’s husband, could they? He knows which side his bread’s buttered. We shall soon have our own shop, think of that. And all due to Mr. H.’s clever wife. So you can rely on him...and me...me for friendship, Hannah, as well as the money. That’s why I came to tell you that you must be careful. I’m to be the go-between...and I’m to be careful, they tell me. If there’s anything you have to know, I shall be bringing you news of it. And now I’ve got to tell you, Hannah, that they are all searching. Isaac, he was near demented. "Where is my wife Hannah?" he kept asking, and he was running through the streets looking into carriages.’