Two men strode silently on the avenue before the gates. The prince was not alone. Accompanying him was his next youngest brother—in a coat so light it fairly begged for our detection. I nearly lost my nerve. What had Prince Frederick been thinking? The rest of us—Lord Malden, the Prince of Wales, and I—were shrouded in somber shades, my own cloak being a deep midnight blue.
The air smelled moist and faintly loamy. The boatman was instructed to wait. Lord Malden guided me onto the shore and made the briefest of introductions because time was of the utmost essence. I curtsied low to His Royal Highness, who then placed his hands on mine and raised me to my feet. Even through our gloves I could feel the heat of our mutual ardor like a bolt of electricity that passed between us. The prince ever so gently slipped down the hood of my cloak that he might look into my eyes. His were the mildest shade of gray, and yet shone with an enthusiasm mingled with eagerness and devotion.
“Oh, celestial creature,” he murmured, as he gazed at me. “How you have gratified me this night.” He tilted his head and the rising moonlight illumined his pale cheek. “I have so many things to say to you. When may we meet again?”
I was about to ruminate on this exciting query when a noise of people approaching from the palace startled us. The idea of our being overheard, or of His Royal Highness being seen out at such an unusual hour, terrified our little party.
“We must go,” whispered the prince, glancing at his younger brother. Suddenly, he grabbed my hands and clasped them to his bosom, bringing me so close to his royal person that I could feel his heart beat beneath his breast. “Soon—soon! I have waited so long…please do not delay for another eternity our next encounter.” His eyes conveyed such passion, and his soft lips seemed to wish to yield to mine; but he broke away and departed in haste, leaving me with a great desire to share his company again at the soonest possible moment.
If it had taken months to woo me, in an instant, I had been won. If my mind had before been influenced by esteem, it was now awakened to the most enthusiastic admiration. No longer was I awed by his station; our meeting, though all too brief, now fixed him in my mind as both lover and friend. As I admitted the following day to the Duchess of Devonshire, “The graces of his person, the irresistible sweetness of his smile, the tenderness of his melodious yet manly voice, will be remembered by me till everything else has been forgotten.”
“Oh, I love a good love story! When will you see him again?”
“On Thursday evening, again at dusk.”
“How thrilling! And in the same location?”
“It seems thus far to be the safest,” I told the duchess. “It is a grand and terrifying adventure I embark upon—for once I have given myself completely, there is no turning back.”
Her Grace feared that I would be ill prepared for the censure I might receive. “All the world will be envious of you. A word of caution, Mary: you may find yourself more shunned than embraced for your decision.”
I was already one foot over the precipice. Below me stretched an abyss.
Our second meeting was as fervent as the first. “When, when can you be mine—all mine?” His Highness entreated me. “Mine—utterly and completely.”
I tried to tether myself to the banks of pragmatism, knowing I was headed instead for the dangerous shoals. “You are young,” I whispered. “Led on by the impetuosity of passion.” I found my nerve and steeled it. “Were I to give myself to you entirely, I should have to quit my husband—and while he is no prince in any sense of the word, our marriage, even such as it is, guarantees me my respectability, something a woman in my profession frequently lacks. Therefore, I must take it where I find it,” I added, trying to find the light in such a weighty situation, for my heart was in turmoil.
“Your profession is to me, fair creature, a greater hurdle than your domestic entanglements. You know it is not respectable—”
At this I bristled. “Your Highness, with the greatest deference to your royal opinion, allow me to state that it is the conduct of the actress and not the acting itself that has given rise to the view that those of us who are trained to tread the boards are no better than those who troll the streets and fill the nearby bawdy houses. You realize that I have achieved a great deal of acclaim in the past four years for the versatility of my talent in interpreting the women of Shakespeare as well as those penned by our contemporary dramatists. To be a great actress was all I ever aspired to, and my mother and Mr. Robinson played a hand in dashing those dreams early on.”
“But I am not Mr. Robinson.” The prince puffed out his broad chest a bit, preening like the young peacock he was. “I am not like any other man on this earth! You must know that it would not be seemly for the heir to the throne of England to take as his lover one of your profession.”
We strolled along the banks, daringly arm in arm, His Highness’s bulk protecting me from the breezes riffling off the river. How surprised I was to feel as though I could say anything to this exalted being, that I could speak my mind.
“It is rather an exhausting profession, I confess. Learning one role whilst rehearsing another, and performing a third the selfsame evening. Yet it gives me both pleasure and independence. Mr. Robinson contributes precious little to my purse. He has assiduously made it his business to
