“I thought we had left the Season behind,” he commented, “but quite a. lot of our friends are pouring into the town, determined to show their loyalty. And many of your friends are here too.”

“My friends, Sire?” Gretna asked in surprise.

“One in particular, shall I say? Who says that he admires you exceedingly. He has asked me to further his suit by asking you to look on him kindly.”

“And who can – that be, Sire?” Gretna asked a little apprehensively.

She knew what was coming and felt herself already begin to tremble and yet even so the name came like a blow.

“Who but my good friend Lord Wroxhall?” the Prince responded smilingly.

CHAPTER TEN

For the next few days the sun was shining and Brighthelmstone seemed to Gretna a place of enchantment. In front of the Pavilion was a lawn filled with shrubs and flowers and beyond it going down to the sea was a broad open space that was known as ‘the Stein’.

Every day the Prince and Maria walked along the Stein, taking in the sea air and meeting their friends and acquaintances.

It was all very informal and still more unconventional were the fun little dinner parties that took place either in the Pavilion or at Maria’s house.

Gretna found these far more amusing and entertaining than the great formal throngs at Carlton House had ever been.

Only the Prince’s closest and quieter friends had followed him to Brighthelmstone. The rowdy, wild young sparks had stayed in London, unable to tear themselves away from the gambling halls and the Clubs.

Gretna was sure that the Prince did not miss them and certainly Maria seemed happier than she had ever seen her.

The strict economy that had seemed so frightening at first now made it easy for her to persuade the Prince not to give the huge dinner parties or packed Receptions that he had believed were such an essential part of his life.

“We are just a little family party, Sire. Is not that more fun?” Maria asked one evening after dinner when there had been eight of them round the polished silver-laden table and the conversation had been so witty and carefree that Gretna had laughed and laughed and for a time had forgotten the ache in her heart.

“You know I like it above all things,” the Prince answered and, taking Maria’s hand, kissed it.

There had been complete sincerity in his voice and Gretna really believed that he had no regrets for the glories that had passed.

The following morning he came to Maria’s house to tell her, rather sourly, how little he had gained by the sale of his horses, the paintings and all the other items that had been put up for public auction.

“A paltry seven thousand pounds!” he related. “It’s hardly enough to justify an abusive letter from my father accusing me of being undignified, theatrical and revengeful.”