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Maria allowed herself to be persuaded, albeit coyly.
Prince George sat her down upon a thronelike gilt chair covered in Chinese silk and went down before her on bended knee. “Unworthy as I am my dearest angel, it would make me the happiest man on earth if you would consent to be my wife. I shall cherish you forever and a day and hereby pledge you all my love and devotion.”
“Oh, George darling, your words make me weep with happiness. My answer would be yes, yes, a thousand times yes, if only it were possible.”
He shifted to the other knee. “I have arranged everything with the help of some devoted friends. We shall have the ceremony on Friday evening at your little house on Park Street. Your two uncles shall be witnesses and my dear aide Orlando Bridgeman, who, being from Shropshire, is acquainted with your family will stand guard outside to make sure that the Prime Minister does not try to stop the ceremony.”
“But, dearest, what about the Marriage Act?” asked a practical Maria.
“Our marriage, though a secret one, will be legal in the eyes of the Church. The moment I am King I shall get the Act repealed and marry you again so that it will also be legal in the eyes of the Crown. Reverend Robert Burt has agreed to perform the ceremony.” He did not add that he had been bribed with five hundred pounds and the promise of preferment.
Maria saw the diamond rings on the Prince’s fingers and the great Star upon his breast and told herself that she was not dreaming. This really was the Prince of Wales who was proposing marriage to her. A slightly irregular marriage, perhaps, but a marriage nonetheless.
“Oh, George, my dearest love, I can deny you no longer.”
George got up off his knees, flushed with victory. He fumbled in his breast pocket and brought forth a velvet pouch that he placed in Maria’s little paw. “You are the fairest jewel in the Kingdom, outshining all others, but I want you to have this necklace as a token of my deep respect for you, Maria.”
She gasped at the diamonds and sapphires. “I do not want jewels, George, I want only you, but if it makes you happy, then I shall be honored to accept your gift as a love token.”
He swept her into his arms. “Pussy, you have made me the happiest man in the world. Until this moment I have never known what happiness is.” He kissed her deeply, overcome with emotion. A tear rolled down his florid cheek. “Ah, Pussykins, we will have such fun together. Do you know that when I was a boy my tutors whipped me whenever they caught me trying to have a little fun? Once, I remember, they caught me jumping on the bed and gave me a cruel thrashing.”
“Oh, Prinny my love, I shall try to make up for all that you suffered at their hands.”
“Pussy, will you jump on the bed with me?” he asked with childlike sincerity.
“Now?” she asked faintly.
“Yes, now, my lovely little playmate. Let me take your slippers!”
They both removed their shoes and George climbed upon the vast bed and aided Maria to climb up beside him. They held hands and bounced together. The second jump resulted in a fall and they tumbled together, laughing like children.
The Prince was now in an amorously playful mood as they scrambled from the big bed. “Let’s play a game, Pussykins. You know how to make all my cares fall from my shoulders.”
“What shall we play, Prinny my love?”
“Forfeits. I’ll get the cards.” The sly devil cheated of course, first taking her fan, then a stocking and then her gown. He let Maria win, too, so that he could forfeit his stock, waistcoat, and monogrammed shirt.
Whey they were in a state of deshabille, Maria blushing and giggling, George laughing and hardening, the cards were forgotten in favor of a little foreplay. Maria Fitzherbert excited the Prince more than any woman he had ever known. She had a lovely face and a complexion like roses and cream. Her hair was so pretty, she never wore it powdered, allowing the pale golden-yellow tresses to fall artlessly about her plump shoulders. But it was her breasts that excited His Highness the most. They were extremely large and soft, giving her a voluptuous yet maternal body for which George lusted and hungered.
With a boyishly mischievous look in his eyes George produced a pink silk bag. It was a newly invented toy called a balloon.
“Whatever is that, Georgie?”
“It’s a clever little toy modeled on the hot-air balloon. Warm air makes it float about. Let’s play one last game, Pussy.” As he inflated the silk bag with his warm breath their dalliance began in earnest.
George bounced the balloon off Maria’s breasts and then her buttocks. Soon he was boldly trying to bat it with his long erection, watching Maria’s blushes turn her titties as pink as the balloon. The warm air in the room floated it higher and higher and as Maria jumped for it, her beautiful breasts bounced up and down until he was in a frenzy of desire. He enfolded her in his arms and they sprawled breathlessly across the great bed.
Lying upon her back, looking up at the ceiling, Maria saw their naked bodies reflected in the mirrors. It was extremely erotic. She watched in fascination as he mounted her. She had never enjoyed anything so thrilling before. Both her previous husbands had been elderly. George was an extremely large man in the prime of his youth. Maria’s body turned him into a vigorous lover.
She was soon wet and slippery with the friction of his great sword of state. She bit her lips as wave after wave of pure pleasure washed over her, but finally she could keep silent no longer. She became so vocal in her excitement that it spurred George to new depths.
Holding a magnificent breast in each hand he plunged to the hilt one last time, then they both cried out their fulfillment. Later as she cradled him in her arms and felt his hot mouth suckle her nipple until he fell asleep, she lay staring up into the mirrors thinking how strange life could be. She had been no more than a nurse to her elderly husbands; now, at the opposite end of the scale, she was a playmate for a boy who would be King.
When Tony awoke it took only a few seconds for her to remember the horrors of the previous night. Her spirits sank immediately and a sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She could not keep what had happened to herself, yet she did not want to frighten her grandmother.
Tony decided to talk to Mr. Burke, and since Roz never came downstairs before the civilized hour of ten, there was no time like the present. At breakfast she signaled to Mr. Burke that she wished to see him privately, and the trusted servant, who had been worried about his young mistress for some time, hoped Antonia would take him into her confidence.
Tony left the table and made her way to a salon that was usually only used for entertaining callers. Mr. Burke followed in a few minutes and deliberately closed the salon doors against the inquisitive maids.
