Lord Baltimore held up a hand. ‘You have not heard all,’ he told her. ‘His Highness will continue to give you £1,600 for life if you obey. If you do not, you will not receive one penny.’

‘And ... his son?’

‘The Prince will take care of his education here in England.’

‘So I am to be separated from my son?’

‘Those are the Prince’s terms. It is for you to accept or reject them. But pray consider what rejection would mean. All those who have been your friends when you enjoyed the Prince’s favour would perhaps change their feelings towards you when you were poor and of no consequence . . which you will most certainly be if you fail to agree to His Highness’s conditions.’

She did not speak. In a few moments her life was collapsing about her. She knew that the Prince was fickle; she would not have been surprised to hear of his unfaithfulness, but that he should send another man to tell her he was giving her up hurt her pride and robbed her of her dignity.

She controlled herself sufficiently to say that she could not reply to the Prince yet. She would think of what Lord Baltimore had said: and Lord Baltimore hurriedly took his leave.

As soon as he had gone Anne sent a message to Lord Hervey. She must see him without delay.

As soon as Lord Hervey reached the house in Grosvenor Street Anne threw her arms about him and told him what had happened.

He listened carefully, weighing up how best he could embarrass the Prince.

‘It is not that I care for that young fool,’ said Anne. ‘His protection was worth having ... nothing else. I’ll be glad to be rid of him, but if I go out of England how am I going to see you?’

Hervey considered this. He enjoyed their meetings, though when she was no longer the Prince’s mistress she would not be able to give him the accounts of that young man’s follies; all the same he was by no means tired of her.

He told her that he did not see why she should be banished from England. She must write to the Prince and tell him that she refused to go.

‘I write! But you know I am useless with a pen.’ A mischievous look had come into her eyes. ‘Not like you, my lord. A pen in your hand is a sword ... or whatever you want it to be.’

It was true. Hervey could scorn, wheedle, plead, and make love with words.

He sat down and wrote a letter in the name of Anne. In this he reminded the Prince of all they had been to each other. She regretted that he was to marry, but she had been prepared for this; what she was not prepared for was banishment. Her child was the only consolation she had left and she could not leave him. Nothing but death would make her leave the country in which her child was. The letter hinted at the blame which would attach itself to him when it were known how he had treated her.

When she read the letter Anne chortled with delight. She wanted to send it to the Prince immediately, but Hervey would not allow this. She must copy it out in her own handwriting before she sent it.

He suggested that she sit down and do it while he watched her and forced her to obey it. Once this was done Hervey took the precaution of destroying the original.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘we must not be hasty. Before you send this letter to the Prince you must show it to your brother and ask him whether he thinks it is advisable to send it, for if he did not and blamed you for it he might disown you and that could be disastrous since it would give the Prince the support he needs to act in this dastardly way.’

Anne looked at him with admiration.

‘I will obey you in all things,’ she told him; and while she went to her brother’s house he returned to his lodgings in St James’s to think about the matter.

The Queen was breakfasting with her family and Lord Hervey was in attendance when the Prince of Wales called. He was in a passion of rage and never had he looked more like his father.

He threw the letter on to the breakfast table, for since his father had gone to Hanover his manners inside the family circle had grown worse. He was very angry with his father for refusing him the Regency and with his mother for having it, and as his friends continually pointed out the injustice of this he could never forget it.

And now in addition to that he had received a letter the like of which he declared could never have been addressed to a Prince before.

‘Read that, Madam, and tell me if you think it was written by Mistress Anne Vane.’

The Queen read the letter and Amelia and Caroline stood on either side and looked over her shoulder reading it with her.

‘You should be able to tell far better than we whether she wrote it,’ said Amelia. ‘We were never on such terms of intimacy with the creature as you were.’

‘She is certainly erudite,’ said the Queen. ‘Look at this, my lord, and see if you don’t agree.’

Hervey took the letter and read it.

‘She has a way with her pen,’ he admitted.

‘What nonsense! ‘ cried the Prince. ‘The woman never wrote that letter. Some scroundrel wrote it for her.’

‘Has Your Highness any idea which scoundrel?’ asked Hervey. ‘There must be so many in Your Highness’s circle.’

The Prince was too incensed to feel the barb. ‘No,’ he cried, ‘but I am going to find out.’

‘Will she not tell you?’ asked the Queen. ‘She must be proud of a friend who would do so much for her.’

‘She swears she wrote it herself. She is showing it to all her friends and boasting about her cleverness.’

‘How difficult it is to cast off a mistress!’ sighed the Queen. ‘I pray you will not allow too large a scandal to be created over this woman. The people would not like it, nor would your bride.’

‘You can depend upon me to settle this matter to my satisfaction! ‘ cried the Prince.

And not glancing at Lord Hervey whom he detested, he flung out of the room, cursing his father for not allowing him to be Regent, Miss Vane for daring to send him such a letter, and Hervey for being in continual attendance on his mother.

Poor Frederick always seemed to get the worst of any bargain, and even in this one Anne Vane outwitted him. So piteously did she tell her story that the whole Court was humming with it. She could starve in England, she declared, if she would not go abroad and be parted from her child.

This was a dastardly way to behave, said Anne’s brother and Lord Hervey and others. The woman had been his mistress; he no longer desired her and he was about to marry; but he must remember his obligations.

Frederick floundered ineffectually. He denied that he had sent such a message; then he recapitulated and said he had written to Miss Vane because a friend of hers had intimated that the settlement he offered would be agreeable to her.

Everyone was talking about the affair of Miss Vane, and the Prince was in such a position that he could only declare that she should continue in her house in Grosvenor Street and that he would pay her her £1,600 as long as she lived.

Hervey walked to her house and was let in by Anne herself and smuggled up to her bedchamber that her servants might not see him.

She was exhilarated.

‘I’ve never been so comfortably placed in my life,’ she said. ‘All this and no encumbrances. I wish him joy of his Augusta. Poor girl, I pity her!’

They laughed over the affair and she told him that she had had some anxious moments, for after all it was dangerous to do battle with a Prince; but she had such good friends and she would always be grateful to them. However, the affair had brought on her fits of colic and her doctors had suggested she go to Bath for a few weeks.

‘I shall leave little Fitz with my brother and his family while I go,’ she said. ‘They’ll be happy to have him.’