Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series)

by Jean Plaidy

  ‘Yes,’ giggled Sophia Dorothea, ‘when he retires with the tall Malkin.’

  ‘No, he’s in a better temper with the Platen woman.’

  ‘But he prefers the other from habit.’ She looked over her shoulder. ‘Sometimes I wonder whether he ever thinks of our mother. It was here that it happened… in this very Schloss.’

  ‘Much he cares about her. But what have you to tell me?’

  ‘Why has our grandmother asked him to go to see her at Herrenhausen? His company will hardly help her to recover. It must be something important, mustn’t it?’

  ‘I daresay.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘I’ve no idea.’

  ‘Well, I have an idea. And I think I’m right. It’s about you.’

  ‘About me. He’s going to let me go with the armies after all!’

  ‘Of course not. You’re a son… the only son. You can’t be allowed to go to the wars until you’ve got a son. Now I’m sure… being just a little bit like our revered father you may have one… two or even three by now… but they aren’t legitimate and so they can’t be the heirs of Hanover. Why, if Father was to die and you were to die, what would happen to Hanover?’

  ‘What are you driving at?’

  ‘George Augustus, you’re dense! You spend too much time admiring your pretty face. Our grandmother wants you to be married… soon. She wants you to produce the heir which will make it possible for you or our father to be killed without calamity to the house.’

  ‘I see. But you have a pleasant way of putting it.’

  ‘It’s being brought up here. Father sets us such an example in finesse and diplomatic conversation.’

  ‘I believe you hate him as much as I do.’

  ‘I have to be in the fashion. Everybody hates him… except the tall Malkin and fat hen and of course Madam von Platen.’

  ‘What have you heard?’

  ‘I’ve heard a little and deduced much. That’s feminine intuition, brother. You don’t believe in it – nor does father. Mind it isn’t your downfall. It’s time you married. It’s time we both married. Father is too busy being a soldier and a lecher to remember this. But as Grandmother is neither, she does. She is talking to him now about your matrimonial prospects.’

  ‘You’re romancing.’

  ‘One has to introduce romance somehow into this dreary place. Poor Mamma! I wish I could remember her. They say she was lovely. I wonder if she still is. I saw a picture of her once. She was in a simple white gown with flowers… real flowers draped about her head. She was not wearing jewels… and she was so beautiful. How could he? How could he!’

  ‘I remember her at the window. She stood there with the tears falling down her face…’

  Sophia Dorothea threw her arms about her brother’s neck. ‘You tried to rescue her. My dear, brave George Augustus.’

  ‘I was too young and silly. I didn’t plan well enough. What was the use of escaping from a hunting party and riding to Ahlden. I thought I’d capture her and ride away with her.’

  ‘It wasn’t so silly. You could have taken her to Wolfenbüttel. They would have helped there.’

  ‘It might have started a war. One doesn’t think of these things.’

  ‘Well, if I’d been there I’d have helped you. And so would Grandmother Celle. Poor, sad Grandmother Celle! She is the only one who ever sees our mother. She tells her all about us, George Augustus… the things we say. I send my love to her and yours too. What right had he to take our mother from us?’

  ‘It’s all done with now…’

  ‘Done with! When she’s there… in that prison. What must it be like to be sent to prison and kept there for years and years and years… just because you took a lover? He had Schulemburg then.’

  ‘He thought it was different for him. And so it was.’

  ‘George Augustus, don’t tell me that. If my husband is unfaithful to me I shall be unfaithful to him!’

  ‘So you think you’re going to have a husband too?’

  ‘Of course. They wouldn’t leave me unmarried. And I’ll tell you something. I know who it is.’

  ‘You must have your ear to every keyhole.’

  ‘I wouldn’t stoop to such indignity.’

  ‘Your intuition?’

  ‘Partly. I shall be the future Queen of Prussia.’

  ‘What. You’d marry Frederick William?’

  ‘And why not? What better match could I make? I shall not be far from home… and a queen, George Augustus. Think of that.’

  ‘I’m thinking of Frederick William. I shouldn’t have thought he would have fitted in with your romantic fancies. His manners are as bad as our father’s.’

  ‘That would be quite impossible. I like Frederick William and he likes me. I know you and he fought. I know you hate him. But I like him… and he likes me. In fact he said he would marry me.’

  ‘You’re inventing that.’

  ‘I’m not. But that is for the future. First they will find a wife for you and I think I know who it will be.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Caroline of Ansbach.’

  ‘Caroline of Ansbach, but…’

  ‘Aunt Sophia Charlotte treated her as a daughter. Grandmother liked her too. I wouldn’t mind taking a bet that Aunt Sophia Charlotte travelled here to talk to Grandmother about the marriage. Why else should she have come in the bad weather and died here?’

  ‘I don’t think this Caroline would be considered suitable.’

  ‘Wouldn’t she? When the King of Spain is after her?’

  ‘The King of Spain!’

  ‘Well, he’s not King yet, I know. He’s got to end this war by winning it first. But at least he’s a son of the Imperial House. So if Caroline is good enough for him, don’t you think she’s good enough for you?’

  ‘But if he’s asked her, she’ll take him. She’d be a fool not to.’

  ‘You can never tell. Still what’s good enough for the King of Spain would be good enough for you, eh? And if she refused the King of Spain and accepted the Electoral Prince of Hanover, well… that would be a triumph, wouldn’t it?’

  George Augustus was looking in the mirror, adjusting his wig, and Sophia Dorothea burst out laughing.

  ‘I see the King of Spain is making Caroline a very acceptable bride,’ she said.

  George Lewis had paid more attention to his mother’s suggestion than she had realized. It was time George Augustus was married, he was thinking. He was twenty-one and while he was begetting illegitimate sons he might as well produce one or two who were legitimate. He would have to be allowed to go to war sooner or later and there was always a risk of death. He himself never shielded himself – half the fun of war would be lost if he did – and although he despised this son of his, George Lewis had no reason to believe he was a coward. George Augustus had petitioned again and again to be given a command in the army.

  Yes, it was time he was married.

  And Caroline of Ansbach? He had heard good reports of her. His sister had brought her up and had had a very high opinion of her; she would live in harmony with his mother, and she was apparently a healthy young girl.

  He himself had only two children, which he admitted was a pity. If he had had a normal married life like his mother and father he would have a brood of children now – always a wise thing for a ruler. But he hadn’t seen his wife for eleven years, since she had been caught in adultery, divorced and sent away from Hanover to spend the rest of her life in prison. He had no intention of seeing her now, nor of allowing her to have her freedom; and he felt no remorse. But he did realize that it would not be a good thing for George Augustus to make such a disastrous marriage.

  His own marriage had been arranged by his parents and those of his wife – their fathers were brothers; and the marriage had been part of a grand reconciliation between them. He had not wanted marriage with the pretty, silly creature; nor had she wanted marriage with him, who, she considered, was gross, crude, coarse and everything she ha
d been brought up to dislike.

  If they had been allowed to have any say in the matter that marriage would never have taken place and it might have been that a family of healthy boys would now be his.

  He disliked his son, but for the good of Hanover, for which he cared more than anything else, he did not want him to make a marriage similar to that of his parents. He should not be hustled into marriage as they had been. He should have a chance to see his bride, to approve of her, to be sure that he could live in reasonable harmony with her. He should not be forced into marriage… at least not if he was prepared to make a reasonable choice.

  George Lewis walked through the old Leine Schloss. He did not avoid those apartments which had belonged to his wife. Usually he passed through them without thinking; but in view of the recent interview with his mother and this talk of marriage, Sophia Dorothea was in his thoughts.

  Here she had received Königsmarck on that fateful night; and after he left her he would have had to cross this large apartment which was known as the Ritter Hall where, hidden by the enormous stove which looked like a mausoleum, guards had been waiting for him.

  Here, thought George Lewis, if the stories he had heard were correct, his wife’s lover had been stabbed to death and his body dragged outside the castle and buried in quicklime.

  Ancient history! Konigsmarck was long since dead; only the captive of Ahlden lived on to repent her sins and doubtless to curse the man who had treated her with such ruthlessness.

  He had no regrets. She had deceived him; she had bickered with him continually; she had shown her contempt; she had sneered at his mistresses; well now she could sneer to her heart’s content within the walls of Ahlden. And he continued to enjoy those mistresses and all knew what happened to those who defied George Lewis, Elector of Hanover.

  All the same, George Augustus must avoid such a disastrous marriage if possible, and perhaps some immunity might be secured by letting him have a say in the choosing of his own wife.

  George Lewis would call one or two of his trusted ministers together and they would discuss this matter and the best way of tackling it.

  He first sent for Count von Platen, his Prime Minister. Platen was a good minister, docile, ready to obey without question. He had climbed to his present position, it was true, through his wife who had been the notorious mistress of George Lewis’s father; but having attained his position he was able to maintain it.

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ said George Lewis, ‘that it’s time the Prince was married. I want him to pay a visit to Ansbach to look at the Princess Caroline at present staying with her brother the Margrave. If he likes her, we can make an offer.’

  ‘Yes, Highness. Who shall travel with him?’

  ‘He will go incognito. This is a matter of secrecy, Platen. If she refuses him I don’t want anyone to know it. The Archduke Charles has offered for her and she is considering. She’s got an appreciation of her own value, clearly. That might not be a bad thing. If the King of Prussia knows what we’re after he’ll thwart us because he wants her for Charles. Therefore no one must know of this but ourselves, the Prince, and whoever accompanies him.’

  ‘And the Electress Sophia?’

  ‘Let’s keep women out of this, Platen. I don’t trust their tattling tongues. Even my mother. She can’t resist writing to that niece of hers, the Duchess of Orléans… She’s the biggest scandalmonger in France and if she had an inkling of this it would soon reach the Prussian King’s ears. So we’ll have no women in this secret, Platen. Not even my mother.’

  ‘Very good, Your Highness.’

  ‘Who’s the best man to accompany him?’

  ‘I should say the Baron von Eltz. He was his governor and he’s a good minister. He’d be discreet and see that the Prince was.’

  ‘Then that’s settled. And one valet de chambre, no more. He’ll be a nobleman travelling for his amusement. We’d better send for him and tell him.’

  ‘Yes, Your Highness.’

  Father and son regarded each other with mutual dislike.

  If she won’t take the Archduke she’ll not fancy this prancing boy! thought George Lewis, scowling.

  He’s quite crude, thought George Augustus. Who would believe that he was the Elector! When I’m in his shoes I shall be different.

  ‘It’s time you were married,’ George Lewis said. ‘You might fancy the Princess of Ansbach. You can go to Ansbach and take a look at her. If you like what you see we’ll offer for her.’

  As though, thought George Augustus, she were a horse they were going to buy. What did Platen think of this crude boor? What did the elegant Baron von Eltz?

  But the prospect of going to Ansbach to see Caroline pleased him, particularly as he could decide whether or not he would have her. That appealed to his conceit which, ever since he had realized what a little man he was, had grown out of all proportion to his accomplishments.

  ‘You’ll pose as a nobleman travelling for pleasure,’ said George Lewis. ‘You’ll call at the Ansbach court with letters from Platen. See to that, Platen.’

  ‘Yes, Your Highness.’

  ‘You will take von Eltz with you. You will be his friend, von Eltz, calling yourself Steding. But on no account let it be known who you are. If you do, you can depend upon it the King of Prussia will hear, and he’ll take the Princess back to Berlin and force her to marry the Archduke Charles. No one must know. Do you hear me? Particularly women. Now go and prepare. Leave tomorrow. If you decide you want to marry her, remember delay could lose her. So could gossip. Remember that.’

  He dismissed them and they went off to make ready for the journey.

  George Augustus was excited but he was not even tempted to tell his sister where he was going.

  Those months at Ansbach were the saddest Caroline had ever known. Each morning on waking her first thoughts were: She is dead. I shall never see her again.

  She had wept until she was exhausted with weeping; she had shut herself into the bedroom which had been hers as a child and had seen no one for days. Then she had told herself that Sophia Charlotte would have chided her, would have reminded her that she must not give way to grief; that she must be brave as she had always been taught to be.

  But there is no longer anything to live for, Caroline thought. How could I have believed for one moment that I could have left her and gone to Spain? This is a judgement on me because I was tempted by the glitter of a crown.

  If she would only come back, I would tell her that I would never, never leave her.

  Her servants tried to rouse her from her melancholy. Would she not like to see the gown her seamstress was making for her? The woman wanted to know whether she would like embroidered panels, or should they be of plain velvet? She had no interest in clothes. Would she care to do a little needlework? Embroidery was such a restful occupation. She had never cared for needlework. Sometimes they told her amusing stories about people of her brother’s court – and of other courts, but scandal did not interest her.

  She and Sophia Charlotte had talked of religion, philosophy, history, art, literature. With whom could she talk of such things now?

  There is nothing… nothing left to me, she thought.

  Her brother was unusually understanding. She was grateful to him; it was fortunate that, having now become Margrave, he could offer her this refuge of her old home. He would talk to her of the days of their childhood before she had known Sophia Charlotte, and somehow this was soothing. Certainly here in the old Palace of the Margraves, so ornate and flamboyant as she now knew (having been educated in good taste by Sophia Charlotte) she could be less miserable than anywhere else. She liked to walk round the gallery and look sadly at the portraits of the Hohenzollerns, her ancestors, and wonder about their lives. Had they ever known grief like hers? How could any have felt such a loss? There could only have been one in the world like Sophia Charlotte.

  William Frederick, her brother, seeking to bring her out of her melancholy, told her that she must make a defi
nite decision about her marriage. He was sure that once she had settled that matter she would begin to build a new life.

  ‘I shall not marry the Archduke,’ she said. ‘I do not believe she wished it.’

  William Frederick, being piqued because he had not been consulted in the matter – after all, he was the head of the family, even though younger than Caroline – was secretly pleased. The Austrians should have consulted him. He was young and had not long before succeeded to the title; he had been made to feel, for so many years, that he was of little importance, so now he felt he must continually remind people how his position had changed.

  ‘I think it is the right decision,’ he said.

  ‘You seem very certain.’

  ‘I am sure you would never have been a Catholic.’

  ‘No. I never should. I could never be so definite in my beliefs. She was not. She always said on religious matters we must always have an open mind.’

  ‘Then you would have been unhappy in Spain.’

  ‘I will write at once to Leibniz. He will tell me how to handle this matter. He will draft the letter I must write. I know he too will be with me in this.’

  She went at once to her apartments. Her brother was right. Now that she had made her decision her spirits had lifted a little.

  Leibniz was at Hanover in attendance on the Electress Sophia.

  He read to her Caroline’s letter asking him to draft the refusal.

  The Electress was delighted. If only, she thought, that stubborn fool of an Elector would listen to me. If only he would ask for Caroline for George Augustus. Sometimes I think he refuses to do what I ask simply because I ask it!

  And what could an old woman do? It had been the same in the old days with Ernest Augustus. He had allowed Clara von Platen to influence him, but not his wife. She remembered how her husband and his mistress had decided to marry George Lewis to Sophia Dorothea and had not told her anything about the plan until they needed her help to put it into action.

  And she, the granddaughter of a king, and the King of England at that, had allowed this to be. Well, at least she had kept her place in the Electorate; she was honoured; and although Ernest Augustus would not be influenced by her, he allowed her supremacy in her own little court. She had remained to bear his children – not like poor Sophia Dorothea, languishing in prison now. Had she protested as that foolish woman had, would her fate have been similar? These Germans had no idea how to treat women. How different her cousin Charles of England had been. How different was Louis XIV, the Sun King, the most admired monarch in Europe. These men were gentlemen and that fact helped them to be great rulers.