“The king’s mistress is important?”

“Of course. After the queen died she became, you might say, the royal consort.”

“And before she died, what did the queen think of her husband’s mistress?” Mercy asked wryly.

“Oh, they were great friends. They say the king consulted the queen closely on how to woo Lady Yarmouth. See to her left, that’s Lord Mansfield, very influential.”

But Mercy didn’t look at Lord Mansfield. She was still grappling with the notion of the royal mistress. How could it be that the ruler of the country, the head of the Established Church, could not only take mistresses, but that these women were honored like honest wives? New Yorkers, heaven knows, were no strangers to immorality, but her Quaker soul was offended by this official acceptance of public vice.

“Does everyone at court keep a mistress?” she asked.

“Not at all. Lord Bute, the king’s closest adviser, is a religious man of unimpeachable morals.”

“I am glad to hear it. Doesn’t private vice make a man unworthy of public office?”

And now kindly Mrs. Albion looked at Mercy with genuine astonishment.

“Well,” she laughed, “if it did, there’d be no one to govern the land.”

Mercy said nothing.

And now, by the door, there was a stir. A name had been announced and the crowd was parting. She looked to see who it was.

The young man was about twenty. A big, ungainly boy, with bulging eyes and a small head. He looked a little shy. But as people bowed, she realized who this must be.

Prince George was the king’s grandson. But since his own father’s early death, he’d become the heir to the throne. Mercy had heard that he took a keen interest in agriculture, and that he meant well. From the smiles that accompanied the bows and curtsies, it seemed that people liked him. So this was the Prince of Wales.

But as she watched his progress round the room that evening, and observed his simplicity of manners, she wondered whether when he became king, he would do anything to change this world of aristocratic excess and immorality. Somehow, she doubted it.