by Jean Plaidy
Contents
About the Book
About the Author
Also by Jean Plaidy
Title Page
The unwilling bridegroom
The shadow of murder
Suitors and tragedy for Caroline
The courtship of Caroline
The court at Hanover
The Prince improves his English
The end of a life and the beginning of a reign
Royal arrival
God Save King George
At the Court of St James’s
Rebellion
The King’s departure
The days of glory
The fateful christening
The royal quarrel
The reconciliation
The bubble
The double wedding plan
The ghost of the old Leine Schloss
The end of waiting
Bibliography
Copyright
About the Book
When Caroline of Ansbach arrives in England, King George is old and sour, his mistress ugly and his wife imprisoned at his own hand for over twenty years. She has grown up watching her mother Eleanor’s loveless and dangerous marriage, and is determined to avoid a similar situation. So she marries the Prince of Wales, George Augustus, and they are popular among the people, leading the King to resent them.
In what will become typical Hanoverian style, father and son loathe each other and exist in a state of constant competition for power. She quickly realizes that her husband is unintelligent and sees that she will be able to control him to some extent. Despite plenty of obstacles, including her father-in-law’s control of her children, she refuses to lose sight of her aims.
About the Author
Jean Plaidy, one of the preeminent authors of historical fiction for most of the twentieth century, is the pen name of the prolific English author Eleanor Hibbert, also known as Victoria Holt. Jean Plaidy’s novels had sold more than 14 million copies worldwide by the time of her death in 1993.
Also by Jean Plaidy
THE TUDOR SAGA
Uneasy Lies the Head
Katharine, the Virgin Widow
The Shadow of the Pomegranate
The King’s Secret Matter
Murder Most Royal
St Thomas’s Eve
The Sixth Wife
The Thistle and the Rose
Mary, Queen of France
Lord Robert
Royal Road to Fotheringay
The Captive Queen of Scots
The Spanish Bridegroom
THE CATHERINE DE MEDICI TRILOGY
Madame Serpent
The Italian Woman
Queen Jezebel
THE STUART SAGA
The Murder in the Tower
The Wandering Prince
A Health Unto His Majesty
Here Lies Our Sovereign Lord
The Three Crowns
The Haunted Sisters
The Queen’s Favourites
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION SERIES
Louis the Well-Beloved
The Road to Compiègne
Flaunting, Extravagant Queen
THE LUCREZIA BORGIA SERIES
Madonna of the Seven Hills
Light on Lucrezia
ISABELLA AND FERDINAND TRILOGY
Castile for Isabella
Spain for the Sovereigns
Daughters of Spain
THE GEORGIAN SAGA
The Princess of Celle
Caroline, the Queen
The Prince and the Quakeress
The Third George
Perdita’s Prince
Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill
Indiscretions of the Queen
The Regent’s Daughter
Goddess of the Green Room
Victoria in the Wings
THE QUEEN VICTORIA SERIES
The Captive of Kensington
The Queen and Lord M
The Queen’s Husband
The Widow of Windsor
THE NORMAN TRILOGY
The Bastard King
The Lion of Justice
The Passionate Enemies
THE PLANTAGENET SAGA
The Plantagenet Prelude
The Revolt of the Eaglets
The Heart of the Lion
The Prince of Darkness
The Battle of the Queens
The Queen from Provence
The Hammer of the Scots
The Follies of the King
The Vow of the Heron
Passage to Pontefract
The Star of Lancaster
Epitaph for Three Women
Red Rose of Anjou
The Sun in Splendour
QUEEN OF ENGLAND SERIES
Myself, My Enemy
Queen of this Realm: The Story of Elizabeth I
Victoria, Victorious
The Lady in the Tower
The Goldsmith’s Wife
The Queen’s Secret
The Rose without a Thorn
OTHER TITLES
The Queen of Diamonds
Daughter of Satan
The Scarlet Cloak
Queen in Waiting
The second book in the Georgian Saga
Jean Plaidy
The unwilling bridegroom
SOPHIA CHARLOTTE, ELECTRESS of Brandenburg, was discussing the possibility of a marriage for her dear but sadly impoverished friend Eleanor Erdmuthe Louisa, widowed Margravine of Ansbach.
‘For you see, my dear Frederick, her position is intolerable as it stands and what will become of that poor child of hers if her mother has no position in the world?’
Frederick, Elector of Brandenburg, smiled at his wife. He rarely smiled when he was not with her for his was far from a genial nature; but since their marriage he had never ceased to be delighted with her and had been a faithful husband which was something of a miracle when the way of life among German princelings was promiscuous by habit and the coarser the more natural.
But no other German prince possessed a wife like Sophia Charlotte. She was the most beautiful Princess in Germany, so he believed: as soon as he had seen her he had been struck by this unusual beauty, so outstanding among the buxom ladies of his previous acquaintance. She had a grace and charm inherited from her Stuart ancestors for her mother was Sophia, Electress of Hanover and her mother had been Elizabeth of Bohemia, daughter of James I of England. The Stuart charm was very noticeable in Sophia Charlotte – tempered, thought Frederick, with good sound German common sense. Charm and good sense! What a combination!
‘Well, we must bring about this marriage. It would be excellent from all points of view,’ he said.
‘It would give me great pleasure to see her happy. Poor soul, I fear she has no easy time in Ansbach with that stepson of hers. I believe he always resented his father’s second marriage and now he has a chance to express his disapproval. It’s no atmosphere in which to bring up children.’
‘Nothing could suit us better than to see a friend of ours married into Saxony. John George has been a cause of trouble since he inherited. And I believe that woman of his is in the pay of Austria.’
‘Then he needs marriage with a woman like Eleanor to break the association. Though I’ve heard that his passion for Magdalen von Röohlitz is quite violent and she has great power over him.’
‘Eleanor will break that.’
Sophia Charlotte was dubious. Eleanor was a dear creature but meek and although pretty enough in her way, perhaps not persuasively charming or erotically skilled enough to break the hold of a sensuous woman like von Röohlitz.
Sophia Charlotte’s inclination was to turn away from
unpleasantness and such relationships as that between the dissolute Elector of Saxony and his mistress was in her opinion decidedly unpleasant; but she was never one to shirk the distasteful at the expense of duty; and she was deeply concerned about her friend.
Her husband looked at her a little wistfully. He would have been delighted if she had taken more interest in politics. He had often visualized an ideal relationship. She was the only woman in the world with whom he would have shared his powers – and she did not want a share in it. If she had brought that penetrating mind of hers to the study of politics, if they had worked together, what a pair they would have made! But no! She preferred literature, music, art and discussion to statescraft. She would converse learnedly with theologians on the possibility of an after-life but had little concern for the affairs of her husband’s electorate.
Yet what could he do but indulge her for his greatest desire was to please her. There she sat now – serene, almost unbelievably beautiful, gravely discussing this marriage – not because the alliance would help to break friendship between Saxony and Austria and turn it towards Brandenburg where it was needed, but because her friend and protégée, poor widowed Eleanor, needed a home and settled life for her children.
Her children! That was at the root of the matter. He and Sophia Charlotte had one son, Frederick William – and the little boy was already showing signs of an ungovernable temper – and she longed for a daughter, preferably like Eleanor’s who was a pretty little girl, now about eight years old, flaxen-haired, and plump with bright blue inquiring eyes. He had seen Sophia Charlotte’s eyes on little Wilhelmina Caroline. And it was to provide security for the child that Sophia Charlotte wanted this match.
He went on: ‘When she is married into Saxony it will be easier for her to provide for her children’s future.’
‘Poor little Caroline!’ She was referring to Wilhelmina Caroline who was known by her second name. ‘That stepbrother who is now the Margrave resents them at Ansbach. Eleanor was delighted when I suggested she should come to us in Berlin.’
‘I’m not surprised, my dear. You make them very welcome and it is, as we all know, an honour to be a guest at Lützenburg which you have made comparable, so they tell me, with the Palace of Versailles.’
‘That is an exaggeration. Nothing on earth could compare with Versailles. We are none of us in a position to set ourselves up as little Kings of France. Nor do we wish to. Lützenburg is ours… we have made it as it is and certainly we have not tried to imitate Louis.’
‘You have made it so, my dear, not I,’ he reminded her.
‘But for your generosity I should never have had the opportunity.’ She smiled at him wishing she could feel more strongly towards him. But she felt no love for him nor for any man. Moreover he was middle-aged and deformed, and when she had first seen him she had been horrified, but her mother had warned her years before that all princesses must accept the marriages which were made for them and even if they must go to bed with a gorilla for the sake of the state they should not complain. Frederick was no gorilla – merely in her young eyes an unattractive, unshapely old man whom she had learned to tolerate; and his indulgence to her had touched her, for not only did he wish to please her by giving her gifts like the beautiful castle of Lützenburg, not only did he allow her to invite her own circle of friends there, even though they were of no interest to him, but he was actually in awe of her. When she considered the promiscuity of her father, the Elector of Hanover, and the crudeness of her eldest brother, George Lewis, with his dreadful mistresses; when she considered her dignified mother’s resignation and the manner in which George Lewis treated his beautiful wife, Sophia Dorothea, she must think she was very fortunate.
‘I want you to be happy,’ he said rising and coming nearer.
She put out a hand for fear this might be an approach to some display of affection.
‘You are so kind,’ she said coolly, and he immediately recoiled. ‘I have asked her to come to see me,’ she went on. He saw the tender smile touch her face; she had never shown such tenderness for him. ‘I have asked her to bring young Caroline with her. She is such a bright little thing.’
‘She should be grateful to you.’
‘Not yet. Only if her mother marries into Saxony and through the marriage can arrange a happy future for her.’
He went to her, took her hand and kissed it. As soon as he left her he was scowling, wondering why one of the most powerful Electors in Germany should be so humbly eager to please a woman who showed him little else but a kindly tolerance.
Caroline looked out of the window over the lawns to the terraces and statues and thought how much more pleasant it was here than at Ansbach. Secretly she thought how much more beautiful, how much more stately, how much more exciting was the Electress Sophia Charlotte than her own mother – although she would admit this to no one.
Poor Mamma was so often in tears. It was a sad life when you were resented and unwanted. She knew that well enough for she shared in the resentment. William Frederick did too, but he, poor child, being two years younger than herself was too young to understand. At six one understood very little, whereas at eight…
Well, at eight one understood that Mamma was very unhappy at Ansbach, that her stepbrother George Frederick, who had been Margrave since their father’s death – although, being a minor, in name only – did not want them; and that was not a very pleasant way of living. How much better to be Electress Sophia Charlotte who was so beautiful and clever and adored by everyone. There was no question of her being unwanted.
And this goddess had time to take notice of a little eight-year-old girl, to ask her about Ansbach. Caroline was uneasy remembering that conversation. Had she said too much? Would Mamma scold in her tearful way which was almost worse than bullying? Sophia Charlotte asked about lessons, not as a governess would, but as though she were interested because learning was so exciting. Was it? Caroline had not thought so until the Electress had made her feel it was, and now she was eager to find out, for surely the Electress could not be wrong? Electress Sophia Charlotte had selected Caroline for particular notice, had talked to her as she had never been talked to before. She had made her feel that she was important; and to be made to feel important by the most important person one had ever met could only mean that one was important.
What an exciting discovery!
Caroline could scarcely wait to be once more in the presence of this goddess and yet she feared it. Suppose by some little stupidity she forfeited her regard?
‘I hope,’ she said aloud, ‘that we stay at Berlin for ever and ever.’
From the window she saw a man walking with other men in the gardens. She knew who he was – someone very important because he had been pointed out to her, John George, Elector of Saxony. The most important guest in the castle – far more than the widow of Ansbach and her young daughter.
John George was gesticulating. How angry he appeared to be! thought Caroline, and wondered what those men were saying to him to make him so.
‘I don’t think I like him much,’ she said aloud.
John George of Saxony was arguing with his ministers – two of whom had accompanied him on this visit to Berlin. They had even followed him out of doors to continue the discussion and would not leave him alone so that he felt as though he were going mad. Surely an Elector should not have to obey his own ministers.
‘My lord Elector, this marriage is a necessity. It is for the purpose of making it that we are here. Alliance with Brandenburg is essential to us, and this marriage is their condition.’
‘I have no wish to marry this woman.’
‘She is meek.’
‘Insipid!’
‘All the better. She will give you no trouble.’
‘She had better not try to.’
‘She will know her place. She needs the security you can give her, and she’ll be grateful for it.’
‘I have no desire to give her anything.’
‘Your
Highness, Brandenburg wants this marriage, and we want Brandenburg.’
John George scowled. He knew what they wanted. They wanted to separate him from Magdalen. Well, they were not going to. He missed her now. There was no one like her. They could offer him other women but they couldn’t satisfy him for more than an hour. He went back and back again to Magdalen. He thought of her constantly. Other women were only proxy for Magdalen. He even thought of her when making love to others. And they were offering him this dessicated widow for a wife!
State reasons! There was certainly no other reason why he would take such a creature to his bed.
The argument went on. He knew they would wear him down in the end. Ministers had great power over their rulers; and according to them Saxony needed the friendship of Brandenburg. He was prepared to let them apply themselves to matters of state if they left him in peace to apply himself to Magdalen. He smiled, remembering her. She was insatiable, that woman – and so was he. That was why they were so well matched.
The argument continued.
Nervously, Eleanor, the widowed Margravine of Ansbach, awaited her suitor. Her large blue eyes showed clearly her apprehension and now and then she would lift a hand to smooth her plentiful auburn hair. She had been considered beautiful in her youth and she was not old now; she had the buxom looks so admired in Germany and her first husband had appreciated her charms. But that was some years ago; and since then she had borne two children.
She was very fearful of the future. When her husband, the Margrave, had died the peaceful life was ended; it had not been an exciting existence, but she had never been one to look for adventure; she had been well satisfied with her marriage and would have been contented to spend the rest of her days in the grand old palace which had delighted her from the moment she saw it.
As the daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Eisenach, marriage with the Margrave of Ansbach had been considered a worthy one, even though Ansbach was a very small principality when compared with those like Hanover and Celle. But the palace was as grand as anything to be found in either of those territories and Eleanor had loved it from the moment she first saw it. She liked the Bavarian countryside and the little town of Ansbach, nestling cosily close to the castle and the Hofgarten with its parterres and plantations. She had thought of it as home as soon as she had stepped into the great hall and glanced up at that magnificent ceiling, on which was depicted the glorification of the Margrave Karl the Wild, and seen the enormous statue in the centre of the hall of the Margrave embracing Venus. And later she had grown accustomed to the flamboyant designs in the rooms, the gilded minstrels’ gallery in the dining hall, the marble statues and the crystal chandeliers.
