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“His name is Adam Savage, Your Highness. He has just returned from Ceylon.”
“Is he a friend of yours?”
“Actually, he’s my guardian. Your Highness.”
“You lucky devil! None ever returned from the Indies without the wealth of a nabob. You can dip into his pockets when your own are empty. Damnation, sorry. Georgy darling, but everyone has someone to frank them save myself. Georgy here has Devonshire to bail her out of debt every day of her life. Do you know when they palmed Carlton House off on me it was in ruins? I’ve been forced to spend a fortune having Henry Holland rebuild it and just as it’s becoming habitable, I’m afraid I shall have to suspend further improvement for lack of blunt. I’ve commissioned Holland to build me a Marine Pavilion in Brighton. He has already employed a hundred and fifty workmen because I want it finished before next summer. Tis a disgrace that I, the Prince of Wales, have to resort to moneylenders.” He leaned toward Tony confidentially. “I’m in debt up to here,” he said, grasping hold of a powdered curl at his temple, “and no prospect of repaying until the King dies.”
“George darling, I’ll play some faro with you after dinner. That should lift your spirits.”
The prince patted her hand. “Only if you promise to lose, Georgy darling.”
“I always lose. I have a reputation to maintain.”
Tony couldn’t believe the number of courses being served. After the soup three different courses of fish were served, then entrée after entree followed, each more delicious than the previous one.
“George, I’ve offered you fifty thousand pounds for your chef, Carême. All you need do to get money is sell something.”
“Georgy darling, you are so practical!”
Essex and Sheridan choked on their wine, but the prince continued with deep sincerity. “I wouldn’t part with my Parisian chef for a million. He is the only reason people kill to dine at Carlton House. I, too, have a reputation to maintain. I’ll have to sell something else.”
The Earl of Essex, ever the optimist amid gloom and doom, said, “Perhaps you’ll win at Newmarket next week, Your Highness.”
George shook his head sadly. “I went into obscene debt for my stud of thoroughbred racehorses. Now I can’t even afford to place wagers on them. They eat their blasted heads off, you know.” He turned to Tony with a brilliant smile. “Do join us at Newmarket next week, we’ll have a ripping time. Sherry is bringing little Amoret and my dearest friend, Charles Fox, is bringing Liz of course, so do fetch your mistress, she’ll be quite welcome.”
Tony felt her cheeks flush. The prince noticed immediately. “My dear fellow, don’t worry about Georgiana here, we can’t shock her. She’s aware of all our foibles while we know only half of hers.” Everyone laughed at his wit.
“Your guardian doesn’t keep you on too tight a rein does he?”
“No, Your Highness, as a matter of fact he takes a keen interest in horses. Looking to buy some. I believe. After dinner why don’t I introduce him to you?”
“By Jove, that would be sporting of you old chap. I’m always delighted to make the acquaintance of someone I’ve not yet borrowed from.” All the Whigs laughed.
By the time dinner was over and the ladies stood up to leave the men to their port or brandy, an unbelievable amount of food and drink had been consumed. Tony stood politely with the other men and watched the ladies retire. Now she thought with a little frisson of anticipation, was the opportunity of a lifetime. She was one of the few women on earth to have the opportunity to learn what men did and said when the opposite sex retired from the dining room. Tony almost fainted from shock. The first order of business was a scramble to open the sideboards and pull out the chamber pots.
Her eyes nearly popped from her head as over a dozen men reached into their satin breeches, pulled out their equipment, and relieved themselves with groans.
“Never had to piss so badly since the last time I sat in Parliament,” commented Sheridan.
“That’s because you drink too much. Sherry. I never start on the cherry brandy until the ladies leave the table.”
Tony lived and learned. Not only did she see that men came in different shapes and sizes, she learned they also came in many shades from mushroom through vermilion. She also knew exactly what the royal penis looked like. It was quite large with a pink head and sprang from a nest of golden curls. Tony blinked as His Royal Highness quite deliberately shook off the last drops before returning it inside his white satin inexpressibles. He then handed his chamber pot to the waiting footman and accepted a hand towel dipped in rosewater.
Tony accepted the brandy offered by a liveried footman and selected a cheroot from her cigar case. She knew her cheeks were flaming and desperately hoped a cloud of blue smoke would cover her embarrassed stupefaction.
The conversation went over her head for the next few minutes as the liquor glasses were filled and emptied in rapid succession. Finally one or two curse words penetrated her brain, and realizing the men’s language had coarsened considerably now the ladies were absent, she began to listen more closely.
Lord Sefton approached the Prince, bowed formally, then, with that out of the way, lapsed into informality. “I’ve found out the name of the lady m’wife invited to the theater two nights ago, Your Highness.”
“Sefton, I shall be forever in your debt. You have only to name your price if you will but divulge the lady’s name.”
“I must warn you she is not a light-skirt, Your Highness, but a respectable widow.”
“Sefton, as if she would be in Isabella’s box at Covent Garden if she was a Cyprian. One glance told me she wouldn’t lift her skirts until all the conventions had been observed.”
Sefton nodded, satisfied. “Her name is Maria, Your Highness. Isabella tells me her late husband, Thomas Fitzherbert, left her quite a bit of lolly and a town house in Park Street.”
“Maria Fitzherbert.” The Prince breathed the name reverently. He turned to Essex, who had acted as the go-between in previous sexual liaisons. “I want to know everything there is to know about the lady. Her beauty dazzled me. She has the most glorious golden hair, which she wore unpowdered.”
