The Princess of Celle: (Georgian Series) (36 page)

‘And what do I care!’ cried Sophia Dorothea. ‘I am tired. I want only one thing: to go home with the children and spend the rest of my life there.’

‘A fine way for a woman of twenty-one to talk!’

‘Age has nothing to do with this.’

‘It has everything to do with it. You are young. Your life is just beginning. Come let me help dress you. And we’ll go down to the hall and play a game of cards. It will cheer you.’

Sophia Dorothea sighed. ‘I am expected down there, Knesebeck. I have to do my duty. I have to smile and be gracious and pretend I do not see my husband fondling Schulenburg and Platen sniggering behind her fan. I am tired of it.’

‘There now… . Don’t, I beg of you, think of all that. Come on. The blue satin! It is most becoming; and shall I put flowers in your hair? You will look more beautiful than any of them in spite of your melancholy.’

Sophia Dorothea allowed herself to be dressed and she went down to the hall.

She had played a little cards and had a mind to dance; and as with Fraulein von Knesebeck she left the card table her brother-in-law Charles approached her accompanied by a man whose face was vaguely familiar to her.

Before she heard his name her heart began to beat faster; her listlessness was replaced by excitement; a faint colour came into her cheeks which made her dark eyes brilliant; she was indeed at the moment the fairest of them all.

‘Sophia Dorothea,’ said Charles, ‘there is someone here who asks to be presented to you. He hopes you will remember him.’

He bowed. ‘Your Highness,’ he said, ‘I hope you have not forgotten me.’

‘I knew you when I was a child,’ she said.

‘I was your devoted slave then. I hope you will allow me to serve you now.’

‘I believe that would be a pleasure.’

His eyes were as brilliant as hers; he could not take them from her glowing face. She thought: He is like some hero from the old legends – a strong blond hero. She had never seen a face so strong and yet so handsome.

‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘have you forgotten my name?’

They said it simultaneously: ‘Philip Königsmarck.’

Then they laughed and he said: ‘If I might have the honour of escorting you in the dance I should be so happy.’

She put her hand in his. ‘I should be happy too.’

They danced, and dancing Sophia Dorothea knew that a miracle was taking place.

She was happy again.

Murder in Pall Mall

COUNT PHILIP CHRISTOPHER KÖNIGSMARCK
– handsome and adventurous – had come back, as he had always promised himself that he would, to see his little playmate who had made such an impression on him when he was sixteen years old. During an exciting life, when perhaps some love affair had gone wrong, some woman had disappointed him, he would remember the scent of the lime trees at Celle and an enchanting little girl who had adored him.

Rumours had reached Saxony where he had been staying of her marriage to George Lewis; the power of Clara von Platen; the devotion of George Lewis to Fraulein von Schulenburg; the indignation of Sophia Dorothea.

Königsmarck lived for adventure – the more romantic the better; so he left Saxony and came to Hanover, determined to set up house and stay there for a while. He was very rich, for since the death of his elder brother he had inherited the title of Count, and he was made welcome at any of the European courts on account of his money, reputation and charm.

The Königsmarcks were a famous, wealthy and close-knit Swedish family. Philip remembered early days in Sweden where he had lived with his two sisters Amalie Wilhemina and Marie Aurora; there was an elder brother Carl John, who impatiently
awaiting the day when he would go with his father or his uncle, Count Otho William, to serve under them, would fight his mock battles in the nursery. Young Philip, learning his geography because his brother was always fighting his imaginary battles in different places over the Continent, made up his mind that when he was older he would join Carl John and go fighting and adventuring with him. He could scarcely wait for the day. In the meantime he must be content with the company of his sisters who adored him.

Their father was a great soldier – though not quite as famous as uncle Otho William; but when Philip was about twelve he died. Carl John immediately joined his uncle; as for Philip he was a little young but, said Uncle Otho William, there was no reason why he should remain in Sweden. He could not begin to learn the art of soldiering soon enough, and must travel. So Philip travelled, studying and learning how to be a soldier at the same time; and this was how he came to be in Celle when he was sixteen and first met Sophia Dorothea.

Returning to Sweden he had been a little disconsolate until Carl John returned from his travels. Carl John, now the head of the family, took his duties seriously and it did not take Philip long to persuade him that something must be done.

‘Am I to stay here learning from books?’ demanded Philip.

‘Now what was it you did in Celle to be turned out?’ Carl John wanted to know; but of course he knew already and there was a twinkle in his eyes. The little Princess had been attracted by him and the Duchess of Celle had thought a mere Swedish nobleman not good enough to be a match for the daughter. ‘Well, it was no fault of yours,’ went on Carl John. ‘You merely followed the instincts of a gallant young gentleman. You must progress in the world and then one day you may be considered worthy of any Princess.’

They were good days with Carl John, who was a great talker. And what tales he had to tell. He had almost been drowned when fighting the Turks; he had visited almost every country in Europe with Uncle Otho William who worked for the French and had been a Field Marshal there, as well as Governor of Swedish Pomerania. And Carl John was as dashing an adventurer
as his uncle. ‘All the Königsmarcks are the same,’ he confided to Philip. ‘Wherever we are, there is adventure.’ And Philip went on dreaming of the days when he would be free to roam the world.

In the schoolroom Carl John re-enacted the bull fight in which he had taken such a noble part when he was in Madrid. He leapt about the room teasing an imaginary bull.

‘There was the bull coming at me; I leaped aside. But he caught me. Gored through the thigh. A few more inches and it would have been farewell Carl John.’

‘I thank God it was not so.’

‘Why boy, then you would have been a Count.’

‘I prefer that you should be one.’

‘Bless you. There was I with the blood gushing from me … but I went on fighting the bull to the end.’

‘I wish I could fight bulls.’

‘Dangerous occupation, my boy. Far better to serenade the ladies, which I did too. Now I have plans for you. We’re to leave Sweden.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘To England. It’s a merry place since the King came back. His court is even gayer than that of France, where there is too much etiquette. England is gay and friendly and the King is more familiar with his people than Louis would ever be. We shall go to court there. At least I shall. You shall have to study for a while. I have seen our King and he has promised to give me letters of introduction to the King of England. You should begin to prepare yourself for departure.’

Philip often thought about the excitement of those days. To travel was always fun, but to travel with Carl John was bliss itself. They had taken the ship from Gothenburg, to embark on a stormy sea and arriving at Hull they travelled straight to London.

The excitement had ceased a little then for Philip was still regarded as a boy and although Carl John was made welcome by the King of England and his cronies, Philip was found a lodging not far from Whitehall and from here he travelled to Foubert’s Academy in the Haymarket to continue his military
studies. But it was not enough for a man of his rank to be a soldier merely, Carl John had pointed out; he must be educated as a gentleman and for this purpose a Mr. Hanson was engaged as his tutor, for, said Carl John, he wished his brother to take a degree at an English University, preferably Oxford.

This was not the life of adventure Philip had dreamed of; but he was allowed to explore the noisy streets which were gay and vulgar and had much to delight a young man. He would wander down the middle aisle of St. Paul’s which had since the Restoration become less of a church than a promenade and market. Here were the money lenders and the marriage brokers; he liked to stand about and listen to their talk. ‘It is learning the language,’ he explained to his tutor who had been commanded to see to his morals as well as his English. The letter writers, the vendors of ribbons and ballads, the confidence tricksters and the thieves all congregated in Paul’s Walk; and of all the fascinating spots in this most exhilarating town, this was the most stimulating. Chief of all there were the girls and their guardians, the ladies looking for rich lovers; Philip’s handsome appearance brought him his adventures among these; but Carl John, while indulging in his own, was eager that his brother should be well protected and Philip was expected to spend more time with his books and the military academy than with young women.

But however exciting his life, Carl John never forgot to spend much of it with his brother, and Philip looked forward to those days when Carl John came to his lodgings and talked as he used to at home in Sweden. There for the young Königsmarck’s edification and amusement Carl John acted out his adventures so that Philip learned a great deal about the court – about the King and his ladies and the Duke of York and his; and how the Duke of York caused anxiety by flirting with the Catholic faith. He heard stories of the antagonism that reigned between the King’s two chief mistresses the cockney Nell Gwyn and the aristocratic Frenchwoman who was the Duchess of Portsmouth. It was all highly exciting and entertaining. And, said Carl John, he had a mind to settle down here and he had chosen an English lady for his bride.

This was exciting news for Philip could think of no place in which he would rather settle than in London and if Carl John married it would surely mean that they would have a home in this land.

‘She is very young yet,’ Carl John explained.

‘Younger than I?’

‘Ha! Much.’

‘You would marry a child? Is she very beautiful?’

‘I would say she is not. She has a head of red hair and is called Carrots. But she has plenty to make up for that. She is the richest heiress in England.’

‘So it is her money you would have?’

‘Nay, don’t look at me so sternly, brother. I like the girl and I’ll swear she likes me too. She’s a widow already.’

Philip stared at his brother. ‘It is all so unexpected,’ he explained. ‘I am not surprised that you are going to marry an heiress, but she should be a beautiful young woman, not a carrotty girl who has already had a husband.’

‘The marriage was not consummated – she being of too tender an age. I shall have to fight for her for I have my rivals, but I fancy I am the favoured one.’

‘Certainly you must be,’ agreed Philip smiling fondly at his brother.

‘You haven’t asked her name. Well, I’ll tell you. It is Lady Ogle. She married Henry Cavendish, Earl of Ogle and before that she was Lady Elizabeth Percy. What I have to do is to win over her mother, the Dowager Countess of Northumberland, before I can hope to have the girl.’

‘You will,’ Philip assured him. ‘But why do you want her fortune when you are already rich?’

‘With my fortune and hers I should be the richest man in England. What a pleasant distinction that would be.’

‘Bring her to see me.’

‘My dear Philip you don’t imagine I am allowed to escort her through London, do you? That girl is guarded as though she were the Crown Jewels. I’ll swear she’s worth as much.’

After that, every day Philip expected to hear that his brother was affianced, but it did not work out that way. Once when his
brother took him to court, he saw Elizabeth. In her widow’s weeds which looked so odd on one so young, she seemed to like Carl John for her eyes sparkled at the sight of him, but the Dowager Countess was not encouraging.

Carl John told Philip that he was going to ask formally for the hand of Lady Ogle and that the King himself – who greatly favoured him – had promised to speak to the Dowager Countess on his behalf.

‘That,’ he said, ‘will decide matters. She may hold out against me, but she won’t against the King.’

So all the next day Philip had waited for the return of his jubilant brother; but how differently it turned out. When Carl John did come to his lodging he was in a great rage. He had been dismissed by the Dowager Countess who had refused to give him her daughter, declaring that when Lady Ogle married it would be to an Englishman, for she did not like foreigners. So even the King’s intercession had done nothing for him.

Never had Philip seen his brother so angry. He kept pacing up and down the room declaring that he would have his revenge, as well as the girl. Elizabeth wanted him; he swore she was weeping for him now; and he had been told to go and not speak to her again!

‘But the King …’ cried Philip. ‘He will command the Dowager Countess to let you be betrothed to Elizabeth.’

‘Not he. He avoids what is unpleasant. He’ll merely shrug his shoulders and refuse to discuss the matter further. He hates any sort of trouble and he would be the first to say that it is for the girl’s family to decide who shall have her and her fortune.’

‘Well, what are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to get out of this country.’

‘When do we leave?’

‘I’m
going. I want
you
to stay and go to Oxford. I’ll be back and I want time to think about this. I don’t want to go back to court where I have been so insulted.’

‘You mean I’m to stay here alone!’

‘Till I come back for you. You like it here. You’re getting along well. You couldn’t find better tutors anywhere than Hanson and Foubert. Work hard and I’ll be back with you soon.’

It was no use trying to dissuade him; he was going to join a foray against the Moors and Philip could not accompany him there, so he must perforce carry out his studies and dream of the day when he would be a fully fledged soldier, and go off at a whim on his own adventures. The harder he worked, the sooner that time would come.