Not to be confused with Edward the Confessor, a king so nice he was canonized for it.
Bertie liked the ladies. All of them. Since his mother thought he was stupid and useless and refused to give him anything to do while she was alive, the then prince of Wales spent all his time eating, shooting, and getting his bone on. He had sex with actresses, prostitutes, and the wives of pretty much every rich guy in the kingdom, including Winston Churchill's mom. Since he had a perfectly lovely wife of his own at home who was approximately 1,000 times hotter than him, he was definitely suffering from Tiger Woods Syndrome.
But one country of women was not enough to contain the libido of this fat prince. Bertie particularly liked the brothels of France. This might have been because one in Paris built a special chair for him that not only supported his large frame but allowed him to have sex with several women at the same time.
You figure out how, because no one else has.
This was all fine and good while he was just a prince, but once he was king it would look a bit weird if he popped over to France all the time. Bertie needed a good reason to be there, and he picked the most difficult solution possible: make the two countries BFFs.