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rushes coastward to be cured like tongues dipped in brine,” quipped Frances.
    “We know the real attraction is the disreputable Cum-berlands,” Roz stated flatly.
    “Why are they disreputable?” Antonia asked, becoming caught up in their conversation.
    “The King’s brother Cumberland has gone from one scandal to another all his life,” explained Roz. “It all came to a head when he had an affair with Lady Grosvenor and Lord Grosvenor discovered the filthy letters he wrote her. Grosvenor brought an action against Cumberland and was awarded thirteen thousand pounds. It was the first time a prince of the blood appeared in divorce court.”
    Lady Jersey took up the tale. “Did Henry Frederick learn his lesson? Not a bit of it. He up and wed that young adventuress Anne Horton. She had a wide experience and eyelashes a yard long. She got him banished from Court. … It was because of her the King got the Marriage Act passed. No one in the Royal Family may marry without permission of the King.”
    “It’s precisely because the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland are banished from Court that the Prince spends so much time with them. He hates and detests his fatherand will do anything to send him off into another fit of madness.”
    “Roz dear,” said Frances Jersey, “it’s no wonder he hates his father. The King raised his children in that abominable Teutonic manner. The boy’s tutors were such cruel disciplinarians that the Prince of Wales’s teacher used a dog whip on him. Is it any wonder his neck is permanently swollen and he escaped to his disreputable uncle!”
    “The Princesses fare no better. None of them is permitted into society and none of them may marry. Wags refer to St. James’s as the Nunnery,” Roz lamented.
    Frances Jersey laughed. “Too bad the girls aren’t allowed a visit to their uncle. They’d soon learn debauchery as George did. Actually,” Lady Jersey confided, “Henry Frederick is charming, witty, and deliciously amoral, no wonder the Prince is completely under his spell.”
    “How was the Duchess of Devonshire’s ball?” Roz asked.
    “The usual dice, dancing, crowding, sweating, and stinking in abundance! The Earl of Bristol’s false teeth are made of Egyptian pebbles. They look positively squalid. No wonder he carries a fan.”
    “Ugh,” Roz shuddered. “Why can’t he wear the new porcelain with the paste from Wedgwood? How is dearest Georgiana? I must call on her before I leave London.”
    “You’ll never catch her at home. You’ll find her at that new toy shop in Fleet Street buying loaded dice. Her gambling debts are even higher than her bosom friend’s, the Prince, though her beauty still has every beau in London at her feet. Everyone goes to the toy shop to make assignations.”
    “Was our friend Selina, Countess of Huntingdon, at Georgiana’s ball?” Roz asked eagerly.
    Antonia knew for a fact that both she and Frances disliked Selina intensely, so expected a deliciously catty reply.
    “Dear God, her gown was embroidered with chenille inthe pattern of a large stone urn crammed with flowers, no urns on the sleeves, but two or three on the tail. More suited to a stucco staircase than a lady’s gown. But, oh, my dear, she has languor down to an art. Lisps Italian now!” Frances laughed.
    “Her refined delicacy belies that she has to pour her three-bottle husband into bed every night,” Roz added spitefully.
    “Poor lady,” Antonia said softly.
    “Darling, I know disapproval when I hear it,” Frances said with her eyes sparkling. “You’ll have to sharpen your tongue before next season. Indulging in scandalous gossip is society’s newest hobby. Well, I’m off.”
    “I’ve always known that, darling,” Roz said dryly.
    When Lady Jersey left, Antonia said, “What happened to the days when ladies discussed the latest fashions and beauty recipes?”
    “Oh, now we can read about all that stuff in the
St. James’s Chronicle.
Leaves us more time to malign