Her once very certain world was now full of uncertainty.
By December, Caroline had come to the conclusion that remaining in Berlin would take the decision to marry out of her hands. With a sad farewell to Sophia-Charlotte, Caroline packed her travelling trunks and set out for her childhood home in Ansbach. At Ansbach, she’d have her doting brother’s protections. She silently vowed she would marry the first interesting Protestant man who came along.
Chapter Three
Herrenhausen Palace, Hanover, spring 1705
It was with great excitement that George answered his father’s summons on a warm spring morning. The leaves were green, the sky was blue, early flowers were blooming in a profusion of colours throughout the Herrenhausen gardens. Spring was in the air and in his veins. George could nearly feel it thrumming in his very pulse. He was acutely aware of being a man in his prime and the vigour of youth coursed through him fast, hard and hopeful, and not without reason.
With the coming of spring and the thawing of the ground had come the thawing of his matrimonial hopes, which had predictably frozen with the roads. Winter made courier runs irregular at best. At least his hopes had frozen on a high note, giving him something to sustain him through the long winter. His grandmother, the dowager electress, had put forth a name as a prospective bride and a glowing description of the young woman’s virtues. Caroline of Ansbach. George had never met her but thoughts of her lovely attributes had kept his mind and heart much occupied through the cold German nights. Now it was time to see what would become of those hopes.
His father barely waited until they were alone in the grand office of Herrenhausen Palace before he said the words George had waited the winter to hear. ‘I think it’s time to go to Ansbach.’
‘Perhaps I might take grandmother’s ring,’ George ventured hastily. He’d long imagined how this meeting might play out. This would be an honest courtship between two people. In this matter, he would represent himself. He would see her and judge her on his own. She would be able to do likewise. It would be an enormous compliment to her that he wanted her to judge him on his merits, not the merits described in letters from political dignitaries.
For this courtship, there would be no more diplomatic intermediaries, no more letters written between negotiators in far-off lands, as it had been with Hedwig Sophia. This would be a true wooing. He’d come to the conclusion over the winter that his bride must suit him before she suited his kingdom. He didn’t want only a queen. It would be years before he inherited the throne but a wife would be with him always.
His father made a sharp wave of his hand. ‘No, do not take a ring or anything that marks you as the Prince of Hanover. I think you must go incognito. You have never met her and it would be best not to declare yourself until you’re certain the two of you will suit.’ The elector counselled caution.
His father laid out the case for disguise. ‘I think it will lessen the chance of a mésalliance.’ George heard years of regret behind those words. His father’s marriage had been fraught with constant interpersonal strife which had led to abject abandonment and numerous infidelities that perhaps could have been avoided if his parents hadn’t been so ill-suited. What had looked like a solid alliance on paper had not borne out in reality.
Still, in his enthusiasm to finally be doing something at last after a winter of inactivity, George countered readily with the optimism of youth. ‘I understand your hesitation, Father. I assure you, I’ll act with prudence and not rush to a hasty conclusion.’
His father shook his head. ‘It is more than that. You are a man full grown. You will know your own mind. It’s not your mind that worries me. It is the minds of Spain and Prussia I’m concerned about.’ His father dropped his voice. ‘If the King of Prussia hears we’re courting his ward he will move decisively to block the marriage.’
Something primal and competitive stirred in George’s blood. This was not going to be a mere courtship; it was to be a challenge. The idea’s appeal was growing by the moment.
He’d never shied away from an adventure but first there were questions. ‘From whom do you get this news? I thought grandmother mentioned the princess had refused the King of Spain?’ His father was not by nature a grand political strategist. George knew his father to be like himself—straightforward and oftentimes blunt, expecting others to see things in a similarly direct manner. Nuances and consequences often escaped his father simply because he didn’t contemplate them.
‘From the prime minister,’ his father disclosed.
George nodded. Count Platen could be trusted to know such a thing. ‘What does he think of the match?’
‘He does not object, but he is emphatically neutral about it.’ His father shrugged as if the prime minister’s lack of exuberant approval did not bother him.
‘And grandmother? Surely she will sway Count Platen to raptures of ecstasy over it.’ In his conversations with his grandmother, George knew her to be exceedingly supportive of the match. She would be a superior ally in this matter.
But his father’s response surprised him. It was quick and curt. ‘Your grandmother is not to be told. We cannot risk anyone getting wind of this before anything is settled. I would not want to stir the King of Prussia’s irritation without reason if the girl is not to your liking.’
George nodded. There was wisdom in that. Grandmother was a gossip. Discretion would be the watchword for his campaign. Once or if things progressed to a certain degree, there would be little the King of Prussia could do about it. ‘Then it is settled. I will go in secret to win my princess.’
The more George thought about it, the more appealing the idea became. The medieval romance of it intrigued him. It would be in part a rescue to save his Protestant princess from the clutches of the Catholic king. But mostly, it would be an adventure—a prince in disguise off to seek out a woman capable of honest love.
The very stuff of legends.
Exactly what he wanted.
The intensity of that want had caught him unawares. Slowly, George closed the lid of his travelling trunk, letting the realization sweep over him. He stared out the long windows of his chambers into the gardens contemplating what it meant.
He absolutely did not want Caroline swayed by the enormity of his future prospects. He wanted her to love the man, not the future king. He wanted her to be different from the myriad women who traipsed through his bedchamber awaiting the pleasure of his royal prick so that he might give them something in return. Not that that was the only reason women came to him. After all, he was reasonably assured he had some skill in the bedchamber that had nothing to be with being a king.
When had he become so incredibly bored with the routine exchange of sex for favours? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t understood the game. He simply wanted something different, something more than a sex-based negotiation between the sheets.
Well, he’d find out soon enough. They were set to depart that night. For all his thoughts about this being a princely quest for the virtue of love, he had no illusions about the fairy-tale nature of his journey. He hoped Caroline was likeable. He hoped he would be able to see potential for genuine regard as they weathered the years together. He was not expecting love at first sight, only the hope that affection might grow from mutual appreciation of each other as real individuals, not merely titles. Still, from where he stood, that was hoping for quite a lot.
By midnight, all was ready after months of careful planning. As spring had hurtled towards June an elaborate ruse had unfolded to protect the prince’s identity. George knew it well. He would travel as a Hanoverian noble who had gone to Nuremberg with plans to meet friends. But since his friends had not arrived and Nuremberg was not to his liking, he’d decided to venture on to Ansbach. To make the plan authentic, George would travel with only one other companion and his valet. They would all travel under aliases. George would be Monsieur de Busch. His companion, the privy councillor von Eltz, would be Baron von Stede.
George and his companio
ns mounted their horses, making quick farewells to the small party gathered in the palace courtyard and set out on his bride-quest. The goal was before him. He was determined to succeed on this adventure, come hell or high water or even the King of Spain himself.
Chapter Four
Ansbach, June 1705
‘I’ll say this much for him, Charles is most persistent,’ William Frederick, current Margrave of Ansbach, said with a laugh. He patted his sister’s hand where it lay tucked in his arm as they strolled the tree-lined hofgarten. Caroline appreciated his attempt at levity and favoured him with a smile. It felt good to be out of doors after the dismal winter. It was a warm, beautiful day; the lime trees lining the promenade perfumed the air with the faint scent of their fruits. She was determined to enjoy it in spite of her growing predicament.
‘I did not expect him to try again. I thought my refusal was most definite.’ Caroline shook her head in disbelief. It had been a shock to them both when the last letter from Charles’s advisors had found its way to Ansbach. It was a strong reminder that she could not escape her woes entirely. If she did not marry Charles, she’d have to marry someone else just to escape him. She was beginning to think Charles would not give up until she was wed to him or to another.
‘Perhaps we should have understood how the situation would look from his perspective,’ her brother suggested gently, obliquely veiling his reference to the death of Caroline’s dear friend, the Queen of Prussia, in January.
It had been a horrible blow to her and she’d grieved the winter away, so much so that she knew William had feared for her own health.
‘I see Charles’s thoughts plainly. Instead of letting me mourn my friend in peace, he believes her death has changed my situation. He’s committed to capitalising on what he thinks must surely be my reduced circumstance,’ Caroline said with no little feeling. She was still appalled that Charles would use such an advantage to push his suit. ‘If he could see things from my perspective, he would know such manoeuvrings does not raise him in my estimation. Instead he looks like an ill-mannered boor.’
William laughed. ‘And all the while he’s back in Spain thinking he’s put on quite a show of devotion, hoping, no doubt, to persuade you with the tenacity of his sentiments.’
Caroline smiled. There was a great deal of humour in William’s observation. The very image of the great Archduke Charles pacing his quarters and worrying over how to best convince her of his heartfelt regard brought a bubble of laughter to her lips. ‘It’s amazing men and women ever get married at all with such different opinions about how to woo the other.’
‘Don’t worry, you’ll find someone,’ her brother reassured her. ‘Just because Charles presses his suit is no reason for you to rethink your decision. You’re welcome here for as long as you like.’
It was a brave statement. She was grateful her brother had been willing to open the family home to her even though it meant sheltering someone who’d displeased the King of Prussia. Caroline was conscious of overstaying her welcome and putting her brother in real political jeopardy. The King of Prussia was a powerful enemy when one was only the margrave of a petty principality.
‘I will never forget your kindness to me, William.’
‘That’s what brothers are for, my dear. But enough of this talk—the day is meant to be enjoyed.’
They had not gone far when a page caught up to them, excited and breathless. ‘There’s a visitor, Your Highness.’
Caroline felt a moment’s trepidation. They were not expecting anyone. She exchanged a worried look with her brother. Had Charles made good on his offer to send his priest again after she’d politely but firmly written there was no need? Or worse, had the King of Prussia sent one of his minions to press the case?
‘He says he and his travelling companion are noblemen from Hanover,’ the page offered between gasps. ‘He has letters of introduction from the prime minister in Hanover.’
Caroline felt the growing knot in her stomach unravel and ease. It wasn’t Charles, then, or Frederick. Frederick was not favouring Hanover presently. She knew he blamed his mother in-law, the dowager electress, for inspiring her rejection of Charles’s proposal.
By the time she and William arrived to greet the newcomers, Caroline’s trepidation had been replaced by excitement. Unexpected guests brought a certain spark of spontaneity to the quiet life at Castle Ansbach. While she was appreciative of William’s hospitality, Ansbach could not compete with the glittering society found at the Prussian king’s court in Berlin or the intellectual circle of Lutzenburg.
The guests did not disappoint—a Baron von Stede and a Monsieur de Busch. Both were mannerly and well-dressed, but it was Monsieur de Busch that held Caroline’s attention. His friendly brown eyes were warm and set amidst the clean, square features of his face. If one was observant, one would note his eyes were more than friendly. They carried a hint of the daredevil, a characteristic that begged for further enquiry. Caroline had to admit she was intrigued by the adventurous sparkle she saw there when he looked her way.
But what she liked most was the strong straight length of his nose, which drew the eye and fastened one’s gaze on the whole of his visage. He was clearly a young man of some means if not position. His coat was of a celery brocade with gold trimmings accompanied by an elaborately embroidered waistcoat beneath. And yet, he was not so ostentatious as to be foppish. The gold watch chain he wore tastefully sported a single fob, Caroline noted with approval as they all moved out to the castle’s private courtyard for refreshment.
Caroline quickly arranged to have cool drinks served, pleased to also note that Monsieur de Busch and his companion were easy conversationalists. Monsieur de Busch had them laughing in no time. ‘For fear of sounding as if I’m angling for an invitation to dinner,’ he began, ‘I must say I’ve heard of the striking art in the dining room and would very much like to take a look at it.’
William chuckled. ‘Stay for dinner, please. Stay for the night or for a few nights if it suits your plans. My sister and I live quietly here and I daresay you’ll liven things up for her.’ William tossed her a quick wink. ‘She’ll never admit it, but my court is much subdued compared to the courts she comes from. I fear she grows bored but is too polite to say it.’
Monsieur de Busch fixed his gaze on her; the daredevil spark flickered knowingly. ‘Perhaps I could persuade you to offer me a tour of the castle?’
Caroline found herself smiling. A handsome man was always a welcome novelty.
She was positively enchanting! George ushered her ahead of him into the dining chamber of the palace, manfully noting the gentle sway of hips as she passed. Grandmother had not exaggerated the beauty of Caroline. Her hair shone like spun gold in the sunbeam-lit dining room; her blue eyes were pleasantly expressive when she spoke, to say nothing of her figure, which by any account was all a man could desire. Right now he was having a deuce of a time keeping his mind and eyes on the crystal chandeliers of the dining room while she talked. He’d much rather look at her.
‘There’s also the minstrel gallery.’ She made an elegant gesture towards the little balcony that presided over one end of the room. ‘On special occasions, musicians entertain our guests during supper.’
‘And tonight, mademoiselle? Will tonight be special enough to warrant minstrels?’ George ventured a light bit of flirtation.
She smiled, blushed becomingly and lowered her pretty blue eyes. George thought the gesture was out of a sense of good breeding rather than any genuine shyness. Good. He didn’t want a timid wife. ‘Perhaps my brother might be convinced to have a small party. It’s not often we get such entertaining guests.’
Ah, he would take that as a small token of her approval. It was a promising start. She was moving again down the length of the room to a doorway and George surreptitiously followed the light sway of her movements.
‘This is the porcelain saloon,’ she said, stepping inside a room off the dining area. ‘This is where all the margraves
keep their collections of china.’
‘Lovely, absolutely lovely,’ George murmured, his eyes politely on the porcelain.
The tour led them back out into the cloistered courtyard, where, to George’s delight, the conversation turned more personal. It gave him an excuse to look at her and note everything about her—the excellent fit of her gown, the tasteful pale blue cameo she wore at her neck, the small pearls at her ears, all of it.
‘What brings you to Ansbach?’ Caroline asked after she’d shown him the west façade.
Personal interest is good, George thought, and he launched into his prepared story. ‘Baron von Stede and I were to meet friends in Nuremberg. They are journeying on to Italy and we thought a reunion of sorts would be in good order.’ Here, he paused and shook his head. ‘But we must have missed them. We waited a few days in Nuremberg but to no avail.’ He paused here and leaned forward conspiratorially with a wink. ‘Perhaps we should have waited longer, but between you and me, I did not find the city appealing. We decided to come on to Ansbach before heading home.’
She smiled at his light confession and held his gaze with a mischievous look of her own. ‘Between you and me, I must confess I am very glad you did.’
Chapter Five
Caroline dressed carefully for supper that evening. The meal was to be an entertaining affair. She’d coaxed her brother into bringing in some local musicians to fill the gallery and had sent a hastily modified menu to the kitchens to accommodate their guests. Everything was in ready for a lovely evening except herself.
Prince Charming in Disguise Page 2