Chapter 153

By now they had reached the walled garden of the guard house, and Mrs Brewer was waiting for them by the side door. They shook hands, and Georgiana introduced Prince George as Mr Chester and Nick as Fowler. Nick was back to a servant by now, and interestingly, Prince George's demeanour was also different, his natural arrogance had disappeared and he seemed much less conspicuous somehow. Mr Chester addressed Mrs Brewer in such a kind, genial way that the rather sensitive woman felt totally comfortable with his presence.

She preceded them through her garden to her workshop, where she made intricate statues of iron. Her art belied her fragile looks, she had a forge and an anvil and while her creations were incredibly detailed and very life-like, the way she made them involved heating and hammering and cutting the iron, and sometimes melting it down altogether and casting it in a mould that she had carefully prepared. If there hadn't been several finished works and plenty of projects in various stages of completion hung on the walls and from the roof beams, the workshop would have looked like a smithy. As it was, it was clear this was not a regular smith's work space but an artist's haunt.

Mrs Brewer wore her usual artistic gown, Elizabeth supposed she'd exchange it for breeches whenever she set to work in a serious way, or maybe she'd merely put on a large leather apron, but she could not imagine the sleeves not getting caught in her work or at the very least having little burn holes spread all over them from the flying sparks.

As talkative as Prince George, Georgiana and Nick had been on their way over, so silent were they now, feasting their eyes on the works of art scattered all over the garden along the rambling path they were following to the back.

'Mrs Brewer, did you make all these things? Those with the burned glass as well?'

'Yes, Mr Chester, an artisan in the next village discovered a way to make coloured glass and whenever a batch fails, breaks or is coloured unevenly, he sends word and I buy it from him for a very reasonable price. I fit the pieces to my work, I have even made works to fit especially beautiful pieces of his glass. It's a process.'

'It's divine inspiration, Mrs Brewer,' Prince George stated firmly, his natural dominance asserting itself for a brief moment, 'you have a precious gift. I am certain it makes you happy to lock yourself in your own little world and create these fantasies in iron and glass, but really, more people should be allowed to see them. Would you mind very much if it were to become know what you are capable of?'

Mrs Brewer was a bit taken aback with his sudden assertiveness, but somehow the prince had a sort of innocence about him that made it difficult to take offence at what he said. And this was certainly a compliment.

'I'd not like to be all over the papers, like Mr Fielding. But it would make things easier for us if I could sell some of these pieces, I could buy new glass and iron, maybe even bronze and copper and order glass in a particular colour. And learn how to really burn images into the glass.'

'I know someone who would be very pleased to exhibit some of your work in a beautiful, large space where a lot of people visit. You'd not have to talk to the reporters yourself, he'd find someone to do that for you. Would you be interested in that?'

She was deep in thought for a few moments, undoubtedly considering what it would mean to have to talk to people, make arrangements to send her works all the way to London, and numerous other things.

'Mrs Annesley works on commission, she loves making the customer's fantasy into a reality. I think I would like that. So yes, please, I'd like to exhibit my best works, as long as I don't have to live in London myself and talk to all the people coming to look at them. I will show you the ones I love best myself if you have the time.'

'We have plenty of time, Mrs Brewer, as much as you have,' Georgiana said.

'Well, I thought we might start in my workshop, and then we can see my favourites in the house, and then we can have tea with some of my best pies. I cannot afford to make them regularly, the ingredients are much to dear for us, but I was glad to have the chance to perfect them.'

And she led them around them the workshop, which was as spotless as a workshop can be, in which she was working on no fewer than seven pieces at the same time. Three were nearing completion and two were in the first stages, but it was obvious she was a hard worker. After the workshop she took them to a separate room on the first floor, one Elizabeth hadn't seen before, which was filled up to bursting with lovely creations, plant-like objects that turned out to be chairs or lamps, the outlines of familiar animals made of iron pieces, with an almost natural movement in their still shapes, one large burned-glass painting of a red rose, but with an entire garden of glass flowers in the background. Everything was beautiful.

There were as much as twenty-five pieces there and they took their time to study them all, the prince asking numerous questions, the women overflowing with compliments and Nick in silent admiration. Elizabeth silently added a physical ability to his list of accomplishments, though this was probably not one Fitzwilliam would envy him: standing perfectly still and totally merging with the background.

Then they followed their hostess down the stairs and into the cosy drawing-room, where she urged them to sit down, though she allowed Nick to help her fetch tea. Anne didn't like to see him acting as a servant but it was the wise thing to do, it was the position they wanted the prince to believe Nick had and this was a perfect opportunity to enforce that opinion. She didn't show any sign of disliking her man assisting with the serving, of course Mrs Brewer wasn't a servant either but just a good hostess, but Anne also knew this was the only way for Nick to be in the company of the prince. Elizabeth thought it a little over the top to have him accompany her even on their own grounds, but they undoubtedly had a good reason for that. Or maybe Nick had merely wanted to see Mrs Brewer's house, or taste her best pies.

With his help they soon had the table ready, though at first Elizabeth thought it was ready and then another kind of pie appeared, and another. By the time Mrs Brewer asked Nick to sit down with the others, Prince George was showing eyes as wide as saucers and a broad grin, and Nick didn't look any different. They were anticipating the tasting! Anne seemed to be admiring the beautiful flowers adorning one of the cakes, of course there was no chocolate to be had this far from London, this far from Carlton House probably, but these pies and cakes looked beautiful with coloured glazes and little ornaments made of sugar or marzipan. Mrs Brewer had even made a cake statue as Elizabeth had described to her, except it wasn't in the shape of a group of people but an exact likeness of the little Greek temple in the park, a stone's throw from where they were sitting. The shape and the colouring were just perfect, and Elizabeth was very proud of the artist living on their very own doorstep who could make cakes as beautiful as a French confectioner. Two, actually.

'Mrs Brewer, you must have slaved in the kitchen for days!' Georgiana blurted out, and she did not often lose her professional calm.

The slender artist smiled, pleased with the admiration though she had to know how outstanding this was.

'I admit I had some help, Mrs Fielding. Mrs Reynolds sent me a maid to help out, and Mrs Eliot dropped in to see me work my magic, as she called it. She didn't sit still while watching us work, she did a good bit of the whipping of eggs and cream and the chopping of nuts and fruit. Nathan managed to find me some apricot preserve and some fresh lemons.

Now let me pour you some tea and then we'll tuck in. Which one would you like to try first, Mr Chester?'

'The one with the beautiful roses, please, Mrs Brewer. I cannot believe you made these all yourself, in a normal kitchen! Have you any idea what kind of amenities confectioners demand? Not ask, but demand?'

Careful, careful Prince George! But Mrs Brewer was merely interested.

'What is a confectioner, please, Mr Chester?'

Elizabeth thought everyone knew, but Prince George didn't show a single sign of surprise at Mrs Brewer's question.

'A confectioner is a very expensive cook who makes nothing but pies, cakes and sweets, Mrs Brewer. The best ones are from France, and they love to use expensive ingredients like vanilla, chocolate, Madeira wine, sugar, bergamot, and indeed apricot preserve and nuts, preferably almonds. Honey, too, but not just ordinary honey, only the kind made solely from linden flowers.'

'Oh, but that is indeed the best honey, I buy a few jars every year from a farmer a few villages from here. Though I do get your point, I've never even tasted chocolate or Madeira wine, it's supposed to be really good. And I have no idea what bergamot is. But are you seriously telling me there are cooks who make nothing but sweets? All day? Really?'

'Certainly Mrs Brewer. The best ones come from France, they are artists, like you, but they are not one hundredth as modest as you are.'

'I'd love to taste what they make, but I suppose only the very rich get to do that. Have you ever tasted their work?'

'I have had that privilege, yes, and so have Mrs Darcy and Mrs Fielding.'

'Well, then I hope my sweets won't be a disappointment, though I know Mrs Darcy and Mrs Fielding liked mine before.'

'We certainly did, Mrs Brewer,' Georgiana observed, 'as much as I liked the expensive things. Really.'

Prince George could no longer control himself, and since everyone had a piece of the cake with flowers by now he didn't have to. He carefully cut off a properly sized bite from the chunk on his plate and almost daintily put it in his mouth. They all watched him as he tasted it, well, except Nick, who was more interested in his own cake and was not far behind the prince in tasting it, though as neatly as he'd learned in the explorers' headquarters.

'This is just magnificent!' the prince exclaimed. 'The sponge cake is just right, not too dry but certainly not too moist either, that is very difficult to accomplish with filling. But I've never tasted anything like the filling, it's rich and creamy as it should be but what is the aroma? It's not fruit, nor vanilla, it cannot be pineapple or banana or even mango, this is rural England. Can you tell me, Mrs Brewer, or is it your secret? It's so unique!'

Elizabeth had taken a bite of her own piece and indeed it was just as the prince said, the cake was perfect, the filling was perfect, but it was the aroma that made it special, what was it? She could swear she had tasted it before, in summer, it reminded her of walking through her parents' garden at Netherfield. But they never ate anything in the garden, mama didn't approve of eating outside.

'I've made the flavouring myself, Mr Chester, with rose petals. I love to use herbs and flowers to make teas, and I loved tea made of rose petals so much I thought I'd use it to flavour a cake filling. So you like it?'

'Oh yes, very much! It's so subtle! You know Mrs Brewer, chocolate and vanilla are very tasty but there is nothing subtle about them, wherever they appear, they rule. Your rose flavour brings out the texture of the sponge and the lovely sweet taste that cream has of itself. It's a masterpiece!'

That was incredible praise from a man who employed two confectioners! Of course Mrs Brewer didn't know that, but even to her it was obvious Mr Chester knew about pies and cakes, and his praise made her very happy. Prince George was indeed in heaven, he ate the modest piece in small bites, relishing the special aroma. Last of all he picked up the flower and smelled it like the gentlemen would take in the aroma of a precious wine.

'It's not marzipan, is it? It smells of spirits and a flower I should know, but not rose. It's beautifully made, but of course I'd expect that from an artist.'

He bit off a small piece of the flower and tasted it as carefully as he'd smelled it.

'I'd say it's mainly sugar, but there is some cream involved and something else, again a flower, but not one I recognise.'

'I added a liquor I make myself, to help cure colds. It's made with elderflower and rosehips, it works really well but I also just like the taste as flavouring.'

'Elder-blossom, of course! I should have recognised it instantly. I'm afraid I've been spoiled with exotic flavours. Your flavours are a miracle, Mrs Brewer, and this flower is truly delicious as well as beautiful.'

This had obviously been a great move from Anne, to visit Mrs Brewer with someone who really knew his sweets. They all tasted every single pie and cake and Mrs Brewer and Prince George discussed every bite extensively, two pairs of eyes shining. Nick ate his full share of everything and Elizabeth didn't refuse either, but Anne didn't have a very sweet tooth so she asked for smaller pieces and got them, after which Georgiana dared the same.

'I do not want to turn into a battleship before I have grandchildren,' she said, laughing. 'I think I have the same physique as aunt Catherine, so I'd better learn to moderate my intake from the first.'

Not particularly diplomatic maybe with Anne present, but then Georgiana had been in a girlish mood all day. Prince George added a little insult upon injury by asking Anne, 'I suppose that being Mrs Fielding's aunt this comparison concerns your mother?'

Anne laughed openly to prove she didn't mind her cousin making fun of her mother.

'Yes, Mr Chester, Lady Catherine de Bourgh is my mother. She does resemble nothing so much as a battleship, not just in size, but also in character. Nothing can stop her, once she is on a certain course she will follow it and everything in her path either removes itself or is crushed. She just knows she is the most sensible person in England and she will bully anyone into believing her.'

'I wish I could meet her, she must be quite a character. I'd like to see her bully me. Or maybe I'd instinctively understand the value of her advice.'

They all laughed, except Mrs Brewer, who didn't know Lady Catherine. She did look at Prince George in a certain way and Elizabeth thought she understood: why would a battleship of a woman, a lady at that, hesitate to bully affable Mr Chester?

'I would love to see that, Mr Chester, but on the other hand I hope to be far from her company for at least the coming ten years. But I assure you, she will probably disappoint you if you see her at your home, people like her realise when they are outmatched.'

'True,' said the prince, and Elizabeth agreed, Lady Catherine would be much more impressed by his riches than Elizabeth herself had been.

Soon after this conversation they took leave of Mrs Brewer, with profuse thanks for her work, and a promise from Mr Chester to send someone over to arrange an exhibition in a very public location in London.

'Better decide as soon as possible which works you want to show the people, and whether you are prepared to sell them and for what price. Someone may turn up pretty soon.'

'Thank you so much, Mr Chester, I will. And I really enjoyed talking pie and cakes with you, most people I know do not have such a developed palate. I had a really pleasurable time making those sweets, and an even better time eating them. I'm glad some is left for Nathan when he comes home, he always said my pies were good enough for royalty.'

'And so they are, he didn't lie. Thank you again, and maybe we will meet again in the future.'

On their way back Prince George just couldn't seem to believe what had happened.

'You know what I pay those Frenchmen of mine? And what they spend on exotic ingredients? I suppose Mrs Brewer won't think about moving to London and starting a career as confectioner?'

Looking at Elizabeth he shook his head ruefully.

'I didn't think so, and frankly it would be a waste of her talent to make pies all day, she'd better think up new flavours and sell the recipes. I'm serious about the exhibition, by the way, and I want that one piece she had upstairs, the one just like a huge tropical plant only with iron leaves. I'm going to put it in my bedroom and keep it to myself until I have my Gothic conservatory and then I'll have it placed in there, to watch everyone surreptitiously touching the leaves to see if they are real. Do you think she'll mind dealing with my agent? I didn't feel like disturbing her with business today, you will tell her who I am afterwards, won't you?'

'I suppose we could do that, yes,' Elizabeth replied, 'but if you'd told her you were interested she could get used to the idea of parting with it. Apparently that is very hard for an artist. But I suppose that if she sends some of her work to London she may never see that again either because it got sold. And how will she get her pay?'

'You may warn her that I want that plant-like object. And of course her husband is your husband's steward, I suppose he will not just give my agent those works, he will ask for some assurance. I actually prefer dealing with people who know about finances. I will miss those pies only slightly less than Mr Fielding's music. I was so sorry to hear that you are all going to leave for the continent, I was planning to invite Mr Fielding over every week. I can get him to play with an orchestra in London, I know people.'

He knew? Who had told him? They had decided to not tell him not to take the chance of him ordering them to stay in London. Frederick thought he could.

Georgiana apparently knew and she replied, 'It is by no means certain that we will be able to go, Your Highness, apparently the Lower Countries are in turmoil, we didn't know that. How many other conflicts have we missed? I'd chance them but Eric fears for my safety. I suppose he never used to think that much of safety when he went to Prague, he was younger and not yet in love.'

'I'm sorry you had to hear that from me, Mrs Fielding, but of course my position means I have to know a lot more about the situation in the world. If you want to know what I am allowed to divulge I can spend an hour or two with all of you and a map of the continent.'

So not only did Prince George know they were planning to go to Vienna, he had told them passing through the Lower Countries would be dangerous because there was some kind of war going on?

'That would be very kind of you, Your Highness,' Georgiana said, and the prince replied, 'It's the least I can do after spoiling your plans. Maybe I can help you plan a new route, I have relatives in Hanover who would undoubtedly receive you and your husband and your companions with open arms. Then you can travel on from there.'

Oh well, she'd find out really soon, Fitzwilliam probably already knew what had happened. Maybe they could join the explorers when they talked to the prince, this sounded mighty interesting.

As they returned to the house the prince addressed Elizabeth, 'Do you have a conservatory, Mrs Darcy? I really think Mrs Brewer should have one of my bergamots but I'm afraid they cannot survive our climate out in the open. It's even colder this far north, isn't it?'

'It is, Your Highness. When we moved to London after spending our honeymoon here there was snow here but not in London. We do not have a conservatory yet, but we are planning to have one built. Frankly, it never occurred to me to have one until I saw yours at Carlton House, it was so magnificent I immediately wanted one. Fitzwilliam is investigating the possibilities already, you know, the best site, which style to build in. I suppose it may take a few years before we really have one built.'

'I beg to differ, Mrs Darcy. Your husband strikes me as someone who makes a decision then follows through with it. I bet you'll have your conservatory next winter or the one after that at the latest. Have it built in the Gothic style, it will be quite the thing, I'm told. I will give Mr Darcy the name of a man who can design the perfect Gothic-style conservatory for you. I'm waiting to have mine done but on the scale of Carlton House and to do it well I will have to wait a few years to scrape up the funds. When yours is done, please send word and I will have some of my trees uprooted for you. And for Mrs Brewer, you'll have to give her some of the fruit for her confectionery, for what she makes is more than just cakes and pies, she deserves the title of confectioner.'

While he was still very kind and attentive, Elizabeth had a strong impression that Fitzwilliam need not be jealous of the prince's attentions to Elizabeth anymore, he seemed to have accepted their bond as immovable. Good, that meant she could really enjoy the time they still had in Prince George's presence.

'The very word gives me a thrill, Your Highness, Gothic. It's not at all like us, we're both rather practical, but one of my first deeds here at Pemberley was to save the dining room we have been using, we have a much less ornate one that Fitzwilliam prefers, and he wanted to have the old one refurbished because it is so lavish. But I liked the fact that it was authentic, his ancestors dined there, and every single one of them added something of value. It would have been a shame to waste their efforts. So he agreed to keep it, and we will even add something of value ourselves, a beautiful centre piece made by our London housekeeper, she embroiders as beautifully as Mrs Brewer's pies are delicious. We have commissioned a large piece which will adorn some empty space on the dining-room wall, we've recently sent in the design and she is probably working on it as we speak.

I'd like to add something of value to the structure of the house as well, and I'd like it to be something that stands out. A Gothic conservatory would be just the thing. Thank you for your offer of the trees, I think we may very well accept it, though of course Fitzwilliam has the final say, it's his ancestral home and he is the one who has to keep up the family's honour.'

Prince George smiled in a certain way, he still liked her a lot but he was merely enjoying their conversation.

'I'm certain his ancestors are thanking you for saving their dining room, Mrs Darcy. It would have been a crying shame to destroy such a magnificent proof of his family's wealth and good taste. I love having my house decorated but there should be some respect for things of the past. Did you get to see my old armoury?'

'I did, yes, it was extraordinary, a real privilege to have been allowed to see it.'

'Thank you, Mrs Darcy. Your praise is worth a lot, since you are obviously not impressed by a mere display of riches. Maria told me you were not at all awe-struck when viewing Carlton House, and most people are. Even your aunt Catherine, I'd bet. Maria was very much impressed with you, and you can imagine she is usually a bit reticent towards other women of a certain style and intelligence, I've not been the most faithful of husbands.'

He was even married to another woman, though Elizabeth believed that if he'd had to choose just one, Mrs Fitzherbert would have been his ultimate favourite.

They entered the house together and made their way towards the drawing-room, where they separated to each do his own thing: Georgiana joined Eric at the instrument, Prince George was invited to join Frederick and Fitzwilliam for a game of billiards, and Anne and Elizabeth took up their little dresses. Nick had disappeared in the hall, with just a nod to Anne that she acknowledged with a similar nod and a tiny smile. It was there and gone in a flash, but it signified more than a lot of embraces and flowery farewells Elizabeth had witnessed.

When Simon entered Prince George's room to help him undress and make ready for the night, he did not expect much trouble with the prince's curiosity. According to Nick their visit to Mrs Brewer had been very satisfying for all parties involved, except maybe himself and Anne, since they were forced to act like mistress and servant. There had been no awkward questions or even frank ones, but merely Georgiana acting both her age and a very genteel hostess, Mrs Brewer's obvious genius, and Anne and Mrs Darcy being very lady-like in general, except that Mrs Darcy did not hesitate to eat as much of the sweets as any of the men.

'She did it daintily, though, and she is as physically active as any of us. Small chance of her getting as big as our guest.'

As observant as Nick was, he clearly hadn't spotted Mrs Darcy's gaining weight yet. To Simon it was obvious, and he'd bet a substantial amount on her indeed being with child, she had that glow as well. Gossip did confirm his suspicions, though no-one would dare mention such a juicy bit of information to him in person, he was part of the upper layer in the servants' hall by now, and he would not accept anyone talking about Pemberley's mistress. Servants knew everything, they knew when their mistress had her moon-time and therefore also when it didn't occur. Mrs Reynolds had not been amused with Pauline talking to the prince, and if Simon hadn't urged her to be lenient this once since Prince George was really good at getting people to talk, Pauline's employment at Pemberley would have ended there and then. As it was, she knew nothing special and whatever she knew she had already told the prince, so her duties would remain the same, with a strict lecture on telling Mrs Reynolds when one of the genteel folks leaned on her for whatever, be it a little gossip or more intimate favours.

According to Frederick the evening had been much the same, the gentlemen had played a game of billiards while the ladies stitched, and after that they had all listened to Eric playing one of his recent works. And now Frederick was waiting in their fancy exotic bed until Simon had helped his second charge.

'Simon, do come in, you're a very welcome sight!'

Well, nothing could be said against Prince George's reception, it was always hearty, and well-meant heartiness. He seemed to lack the false affection so many of his class professed, most notably Mr and Mrs Grenfell, though the latter hadn't been particularly affectionate to Simon last time he'd met her. Of course she'd never be kind to any servant if she could help it.

'Good evening, Your Highness, it's always a pleasure to be appreciated.'

He helped the prince out of his clothes and into a dressing gown, then carefully folded and put away the clothes, hanging out the coat and shirt, and leaving his hat and boots where they were supposed to be. Then it was time for a quick wash, shaving could wait until morning.

While Simon was using a soft cloth and plenty of soap to make the prince feel nice and clean, the conversation took a disturbing turn.

'I think I've solved half the mystery of Mrs Manners' marriage, and it worries me a great deal. I've seen some things that suggest how Mrs Manners can bear a loveless marriage, and now I'm afraid your master will find out and break her heart.'

Simon did not dare contradict a prince, or he would have rightfully objected that there was plenty of love between Frederick and Anne, that it was even very obvious whenever they were together. They might not have the inclination to kiss or make love, but they would do everything in their power to make the other happy.

'Come, Simon, you can tell me why you disagree, you of all people should know I'm just a man like you, though there is considerably more of me than of you and your features are arranged a lot better than mine, as if the good lord had Mrs Brewer's talent when he made you but was in a rush when I was put together. You have seen every inch of me and touched me, do I look or feel any different from any other man you've taken care of?'

Simon decided to answer with humour, though he felt more like begging him to let it go.

'Generally speaking, no, Your Highness. You have the same, as you put it yourself, features.'

'So there you have it. Now out with it, what did I say that you disagree with?'

'There is plenty of love between Mr and Mrs Manners, Your Highness. Their marriage is not loveless.'

'But they are not in love. I concede that they like each other very much, maybe even love each other like brother and sister. But I know whom Mrs Manners really loves, and I'm afraid it will bring her and her lover a world of trouble.'

Of course there was nothing Simon could say. Apparently they hadn't been careful enough for a man like Prince George.

'You are silent like the grave, but you know what I am talking about. So it's all over the servants' hall already. Is he a bragger?'

He had to try to pretend he knew nothing, hadn't he? His loyalty lay with his friends, not this devilishly clever man.

'There is no talk of any kind about Mrs Manners in the servants' hall, Your Highness. As far as even her own maid is concerned she is very happy in her marriage.'

He really wás concerned, for he showed relief instead of chagrin to have been wrong in his surmise. But despite believing Simon he did not let go.

'So the rest of the servants don't know, but you do. At least he isn't toying with her feelings as he has with so many other ladies', but what if your master finds out?'

Washing and drying done, Simon helped the prince into his nightshirt and led him to the chair in front of the mirror. Very gently he combed out the prince's thinning hair. There was nothing he could say, Prince George knew, they could only hope he'd keep it to himself for no-one else would even discover the mystery he had set out to solve. Anything Simon said could only make things worse.

'So you know, but you're not going to tell me anything. Aren't you worried? If your master finds out don't you think Mrs Manners will suffer as much or more as your friend? Don't you care about her at all?'

Remembering the night Simon had spent with Anne when she had an opium-induced delusion that her mother was going to kill her to use her blood to stay young forever, Simon tried to keep his face straight and not give the prince even more information.

'I apologize. You obviously do care, about both. And you're not worried about them, you're worried about me. There is more going on, and I'm getting perilously close to finding out. Simon, I'm not out to ruin anyone's life, I'm just afraid that the most beautiful angel on earth will find herself trapped in an unhappy marriage without love. Or that Manners will not merely separate them but harm either of them when he finds out.'

Simon was in a terrible quandary, not saying anything would be insufferably rude, he was a servant!

'Mrs Manners would not thank you for not taking her seriously. She is not a feeble-minded female who doesn't know what is good for her, she is a self-assured gentlewoman who can take excellent care of herself.'

That was all. Now he wanted to leave and seek some comfort by Frederick's side. It felt as if this was all his fault, that he had been too free with information while in fact he hadn't said that much at all. Prince George was just very good at putting pieces together, and somehow he had taken it upon himself to get to the bottom of Anne's love life. The only thing they could hope for was that he could not imagine Frederick loving a man, whatever horrible preference he attributed to Frederick instead.

'I know she is, Simon, I know! Which is why I wonder why she ever decided to marry a dominant man like Manners. And I know what she told me herself was the absolute truth, but what if it all falls apart?'

Simon had to go, he had nothing to add to what he had already said.

'I am done, Your Highness, may I please be excused to attend to my master?'

Fortunately his humble attitude did hurt the arrogant prince.

'All right, all right, I concede, it's unfair to press you about your employer. I can see you really want to leave, but I'd feel bad all night if I let you go like this. Will you believe me if I promise you I only want to know that Mrs Manners is safe? That she will have some love and happiness in her life? I'm not a damned reporter to find out about people's lives then try to ruin them! Please don't punish me for my rudeness by not attending to me anymore, I need your care, desperately! I promise I will let you know if I find out anything else, and no-one else. Just you, Simon, it will be our secret, which means you can keep an eye on me. Until I know beautiful, kind Anne Manners is safe, then I'll stop. And I won't ask you anything, no-one will be able to reproach you anything. They cannot, for they won't know.'

There was no way in which Simon would just tell him Anne would be safe, it would give away even more. They would all have to be so much more careful still, especially Frederick and himself. He bowed deeply in acknowledgement, to also let the prince know that he did not like it but would obey.

'I suppose I'll have to prove myself first. Your dedication to your master is commendable, Simon. I'm very sorry you cannot trust me, but I do understand. Will I see you tomorrow morning?'

'Yes, Your Highness, I will be here at the usual time.'

'Thank you very much. I will prove myself trustworthy, really.'

Simon fled.