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He removed his arm from her, hurt at her Words. “So, Mr. Fitzherbert was allowed to give you a house, but not I.”
“Mr. Fitzherbert was my husband,” Maria said gravely.
“Pussycat, I think of you as my wife, but, alas, you do not consider me your husband,” he said with great bathos.
“Prinny, darling, it is the King and Parliament who do not consider you my husband. Your father would never acknowledge me as the Princess of Wales and Parliament would never allow me to wear the crown jewels.”
Sadly, George knew she spoke the truth. He was determined, however, in that moment to provide her with jewels fit for a princess.
Maria chose her next words very carefully. She placed her hand upon his knee and said softly, “If we had a wedding ceremony, I would most assuredly consider you my husband.”
“Give me your little paw, Pussykins. Fido is lonely without your touch. See if you can persuade him to lift his head and come out of his little kennel.”
Maria patted and stroked Fido and indeed he did lift his head and creep from hiding. George put his lips to Maria’s ear. “If you offer him a treat, I believe you could persuade him to perform a little trick, like sitting up.”
Maria giggled and offered up the treat her prince slavered for. As his hot mouth closed about her succulent nipple, Fido not only sat up, he began to wag his tail.
Chapter 32
Adam Savage smiled cynically when he read the note from His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales. Every man had his price, most especially royalty. He regretted that he could not summon George to Half-Moon Street but must attend him at Carlton House. It would mean that he would have to send a note to Countess Cowper postponing their meeting and he would also be late for the House.
He took the diamonds and sapphires from their locked drawer for what he hoped was the last time and walked the short distance to Carlton House. Savage’s shrewd blue eyes discerned that the Prince looked anxious.
“My dearest Savage, I hope you brought the jewels.”
“I did, Sire,” Savage replied, touching his breast pocket, but not yet producing them.
“It is no easy task to locate a vacant marquessate nor get a gentleman approved in that title, but apparently you have considerable influence in the House at the moment and with me as your patron I have every reason to believe the title can be conferred upon you shortly.” Prince George paused, allowing Savage time to deliver up the jewels. Savage did not.
His Highness ran a finger about the inside of his towering neckcloth in hope of loosening it a fraction. The leeches that had been applied this morning to make his complexion pale had been an utter waste of time, for he was exceedingly florid at the moment.
He cleared his throat and stepped to a great globe of the world beside his desk. “Actually, my dear fellow, it will have to be the Irish peerage.” When Savage did not protest, George brightened. “You have a choice. The Marquessate of Blackwater in County Waterford, or—let’s see, what was the other? Ah, yes, the Marquessate of Kin-sale on the coast of Cork.”
Savage’s light blue eyes followed the Prince’s finger as it touched Ireland. “How very accommodating you are, Your Grace.” He produced the black velvet bag and displayed the dazzling jewels like a conjurer producing a rabbit from a hat.
George’s face beamed. He could not resist picking them up to hold their fire and ice in his hands. “They are magnificent. They will show the lady just how much I wish to honor her.”
“If I may be so presumptuous as to make a suggestion, Sire? A crown of precious jewels would make a lady feel like a princess and all who beheld her would honor her as a princess.”
George’s face lit as if he had just been given divine inspiration. “Do you possess such a crown of jewels?”
Savage’s scarred mouth stretched into a rare smile. “I do, Sire.”
George closed his eyes, not daring to contemplate what Indian Savage’s price would be for such a prize, but he knew he would meet that price, however high it proved to be. In his heart he knew Maria would never receive a royal crown, so it would be up to him to provide her with a coronet of her own. He was brought out of his reverie when Savage spoke.
“Though I am exceedingly busy, I shall endeavor to visit both these properties as soon as may be and let Your Highness know my preference.”
“Very good. They are both ancient castles, you know. It will take deep pockets for their upkeep,” George warned.
Savage bowed and took his leave. He had nothing if not deep pockets, and he didn’t give a good goddamn that old money was revered, while new money was thought sordid.
* * *
The Prince of Wales decided that tonight wasthenight, and though he had enjoyed the anticipation, he reasoned that he had waited long enough.
“George, I cannot come into your bedchamber, it is most improper.”
“Give me your little paw, Pussycat.” The Prince of Wales clasped Maria’s hand and began to pull her. “I am about to pop a very intimate question, Pussy. The privacy of my bedchamber is the only sanctuary where our secrets are safe, my dearest one.”
