Free The Regent's Daughter: (Georgian Series) by Jean Plaidy

Minney loved her as a mother; it was cruel – though perhaps just – to tear them apart. But could the Prince of Wales divert justice?
    He believed he could. He was astonished that the Seymours should have gone against his wishes. He would not forget that.
    And now while she sipped tea on the balcony of her house on the Steyne and Minney sat with her, she was asking herself what hope there was that the case would go her way and that her dearest wish would be granted.
    If I lost Minney, she thought, I should never be happy again. Even the Prince’s love and devotion – and when she thought of that she was a little uneasy although he had shown himself assiduous in his care for her since the case started – could not make up for that.
    I want them both, she thought, with me for ever.
    And at that moment he appeared on the balcony. He must have stood there for some seconds before they had been aware of him.
    She turned and gave a cry of joy. The sight of him never failed to delight her. He was indeed a sparkling figure exquisitely dressed, glittering and scented. He bowed to Maria, his eyes twinkling with love and pleasure. It was the bow for which hewas noted and which never failed to impress all who beheld it. It was the essence of grace and charm and it always implied that the pleasure he found in the company of the person to whom he was making it was the reason for its grace.
    ‘My dearest love …’ His voice was soft and musical.
    ‘Such a great pleasure, my dearest.’
    Minney cried: ‘Prinney!’ And there was no ceremony then. She flew at him and gave a little jump at which he lifted her and she put her arms about his neck. ‘You smell so lovely this morning, Prinney. And this is a beautiful new neckcloth.’
    ‘I designed it with help from Brummell.’
    ‘Oh, it is soft!’ She buried her face in it. Maria watched them affectionately. If only Minney were their own child; if only there did not have to be this fearful battle, this tragic uncertainty.
    He put Minney down and she brought his chair forward and when he sat, placed herself between him and Maria. She took his hand and examined the rings.
    ‘Such lovely things he always has, does he not, Mamma? I could look at him for ever even if he were not my dear Prinney.’
    He sat back in his chair, eyes glazed with sentiment. ‘Dearest Minney, so you are a little fond of your old Prinney then?’
    ‘Old?’ said Minney. ‘I had never thought that you could be old … or young … or anything.’
    ‘So you see, Maria, Minney has placed me among the immortals. I cannot grow old although it seems I have never been young.’
    ‘Are you going to sing for us?’ asked Minney.
    ‘Here on your Mamma’s balcony? Do you want to collect a crowd?’
    ‘Yes, I do. No, I don’t, because then you will have to be on duty and bowing and smiling to them, instead of talking to me. We’ll sing when we are in the drawing room.’
    ‘Minney has spoken,’ said the Prince.
    Why, Maria asked herself, could he not be on those easy terms with his own daughter? Poor Charlotte! She was sorry for the child; and she was a charming creature, too. Perhaps in the presence of the Prince she was gauche and uncertain. Who could wonder at that, considering the state of affairs between their parents?
    What ironic problems life presented! Charlotte – an heiressto the throne – separated from her mother and with a father who could not love her because she reminded him of her mother. And her own sad problem – dear Minney who was her child and not her child.
    Minney left them after a while as she always did, knowing that the Prince had come to see Maria and would no doubt wish to talk to her.
    ‘Minney grows more enchanting every day,’ he said when the child had gone.
    ‘Which makes it all the harder if …’
    ‘We are going to win, never fear,’ he replied lightheartedly.
    ‘Oh, if only I could believe that.’
    ‘My dearest, I have sworn we shall have Minney. Do you think