The Princess of Celle: (Georgian Series) Read online

  Contents

  About the Book

  About the Author

  Also by Jean Plaidy

  Title Page

  Prologue

  The Brothers

  Romance in Breda

  The Rival Courts

  The Adventuress

  The Little Scandal

  Clara Triumphant

  A Mission to London

  The Fateful Birthday

  The Wedding

  ‘Mirror, Mirror on the Wall’

  Schulenburg Selected

  Murder in Pall Mall

  The Temptation of Königsmarck

  The Stolen Glove

  A Pinch of Snuff

  Banishment from Celle

  Gossip in Dresden

  Tragedy in the Leine Schloss

  Epilogue

  Bibliography

  Copyright

  About the Book

  True love never ran smoothly for the beautiful Sophia Dorothea, darling of Celle, who first lost her heart to Philip Königsmarck on her seventh birthday.

  At sixteen, a pawn in seventeenth-century German politics, she was forced into marriage with George Lewis, Crown Prince of Hanover and the future George I of England, who cared only for women and war.

  Clara von Platen, the uncrowned ruler of Hanover, jealous, ruthless and sexually insatiable, is spurned by Königsmarck when he re-appears in the life of Sophia Dorothea. In revenge, she plans his ruin – and that of the sad princess he so recklessly loves …

  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 Battle of the Queens

  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

  Queen in Waiting

  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

  The Princess of Celle

  The first book in the Georgian Saga

  Jean Plaidy

  Prologue

  IN THE BED the old man lay dying, staring before him with his poor, sightless eyes, murmuring incoherently as his thin yellow fingers plucked at the bedclothes. The physicians were huddled together in the ante-room pretending to confer as to what treatment they should offer; but they knew that there was nothing they could do. His hour had come, and William, Duke of Lüneberg, would not last the night.

  His eight daughters were close to his bed, some kneeling, all weeping; but his seven sons were together in a corner of the death chamber, preparing to draw lots.

  The macabre scene was lighted only by the guttering candles, and all were thinking – not of the dying Duke – but of the seven brothers.

  In the little houses of the town of Celle, the inhabitants waited for news; some had hurried to the church to pray. It was to this church – built of brick in contrast to the wooden houses – that Duke William himself had gone regularly, for he had been a deeply religious man who had earned the name of The Pious.

  Life had been pleasant in Celle under Duke William; and the people had been aware of their good fortune. Order reigned within and without the castle; and his subjects could expect justice. But the Duke was dying. And what changes would his successor bring? The people of Celle were afraid of change.

  In the corridors of the castle the squires murmured together; the pages talked to each other; the serving men and maids shook their heads and looked grave. Would it be different now? For years life had gone on in its regular pattern. No one had changed it while Duke William lived, even though he had lost his wits, for there were times when he was lucid enough and then not one of his seven sons would have dared disobey him.

  There had been no blaspheming in the castle nor in the town without it was punished; and lechery was something to be practised in secrecy. Life in the castle it was true had been more like that in a monastery; but it was the way Duke William had decided it should be and so it was. Meals were taken regularly; twice a day – at nine in the morning and four in the afternoon – throughout the town the trumpeter could be heard from the castle tower summoning all to the table; and anyone who did not appear at that time went without. It was the custom before each meal was served for one of the Duke’s pages to walk between the tables and announce the Duke’s command that all should be quiet and orderly, and that swearing, cursing and rudeness were forbidden, as was the throwing to the floor of bread and bones or attempts to cram these items into the pockets. Beer was provided, but wine was served only at the Duke’s table; and before his affliction had robbed him of his senses,
each day the accounts had been brought to him that he might personally study them.

  Such had been the life of the castle.

  And one of the seven could change it.

  The candles were throwing flickering shadows on the wall. Each of the young men turned suddenly towards the bed as his father groaned more loudly than before.

  ‘We must settle this matter now – while there is still life in him,’ muttered Ernest the eldest. ‘It would be his wish.’

  George, the sixth son, was promising himself that now he could go away from Celle to seek his fortune. He had often seen the carriages trundling by on their way to the Court of France carrying fashionably dressed gallants and beautiful women. How different they would be from the rosy-cheeked girls of Celle, though they were fresh and often eager; but he dreamed of elegant women, voluptuous women, versed in the art of making subtle love.

  Yes, he would go away – make a Grand Tour of Europe. He would visit the Courts of France and England, and win honours on the field of battle. This was no place for a young man who would make his fortune. There was no fortune here, for only one among them could draw the shortest stick which would give him this castle and the right to. marry, so that his son would inherit not only Celle but all their father’s estates. It was the only way. All over Germany dukedoms such as theirs were becoming impoverished through the custom of dividing the inheritance between so many that what had once been a sizable domain became nothing but a series of country houses. It must not happen to the Guelphs. They had all agreed on that.

  So now the seven of them were drawing lots for marriage and the opportunity to give their father’s estate of Brunswick Lüneberg its future ruler.

  Their father’s chief minister held the sticks before them – seven sticks which could decide the future. There was a brief hesitation before Ernest took one of them.

  George’s turn was sixth and as he glanced down at the piece of wood in his hand he saw his destiny there.

  The eyes of his brothers were all on him. The hope had left them, but it was replaced by immediate resignation because they all knew that this was the only way to keep the territory intact.

  George had won. Now it was his duty to provide the heir.

  The people of Celle were relieved; the castle retainers were overjoyed. The new Duke George had decided to make no changes. Each day the trumpeter called all to meals in the great hall; and the page walked between the tables issuing the Duke’s commands which were the same as those of his father.

  But the Duke himself was not in Celle. He was an adventurer this Duke and he had gone touring Europe, fighting here and there, for he had always wanted to be a soldier. ‘Marriage?’ he said. ‘It can wait, for I am young yet and I have six brothers.’ Those brothers continued to live at the castle to save expense and waited anxiously for his return, for settle down he must very soon, or it would be necessary to call another family council and perhaps undergo another ceremony of the sticks. George was young, but it was time he produced the heir, and to do so he needed a wife.

  His brothers meanwhile contented themselves with mistresses or morganatic marriages and as it was being said in Celle that the all important lot had fallen to the hands of the wrong man, Duke George returned to Celle with his bride Anne Eleanor, the daughter of the Landgrave of Hesse.

  All was well, Duke George proved himself to be as good as his father – although now and then he left Celle in order to wander on the continent, doing a little soldiering here and there, but becoming domesticated enough to produce a family.

  Three of his daughters died when they were children and only Sophia Amelia lived; but his four sons were strong and healthy and no one could complain that Duke George had not done his duty.

  The four boys, Christian Lewis, George William, John Frederick and Ernest Augustus could often be seen riding through Celle; and the great affection between two of them was remarked on, for wherever the second son George William went, there was the youngest Ernest Augustus, and the friendship between these two was very pleasant to see.

  The Brothers

  IN THE COLD dawn Ernest Augustus tried to stop the impatient pawing of his horse on the inn cobbles. He looked up at the window above and called: ‘Make haste, brother. The dawn is here.’

  When George William appeared at the window, Ernest Augustus shook with laughter. His brother half naked, hair tousled, was still the handsomest man in Celle even after a night of debauchery.

  ‘Was your friend so disappointing then?’ asked George William.

  ‘Oh come, brother, you know we should be back at the castle before daylight.’

  A woman appeared behind him. She was young and comely. Trust George William to select the best. Ernest Augustus had become accustomed to taking what was left – one of the penalties of being a younger brother. But he bore no resentment, he would always rather be with George William than anyone else.

  ‘I’ll join you soon. Be patient a little longer, brother.’

  His head disappeared. There were exclamations and giggles from the open window. This was a little dangerous, thought Ernest Augustus. It was all very well to go whoring outside their own home, but they should be more careful in Celle. If Christian Lewis should hear of their adventures … Not that he did not know that such adventures were indulged in; that was not the point. Christian Lewis himself was no monk – although life in the castle went on in the old monastic way under him as it had under their father. Yet one did not philander in Celle. That was the difference.

  A movement from above and George William was at the window again. He appeared to somersault; there he was one moment, deftly gripping the sill with both hands, and the next on the ground.

  ‘Well done, brother,’ said Ernest Augustus. ‘I never saw a man leap from a lady’s bedroom as skilfully as you.’

  ‘An art acquired through long practice. You will come to it in time. My horse.’

  Ernest Augustus, who was holding it, nodded his head and George William leaped into the saddle.

  The castle was stirring when they rode into the courtyard. The grooms tried to hide their smiles. They knew where the young men had been. There was, after all, nothing unusual in these nocturnal adventures. This was just another of them.

  Since the death of Duke George, Christian Lewis had become the head of the household. The brothers were good friends; they were all lusty, but all in agreement that nothing must stand in the way of their house’s continued prosperity. One of them would marry and produce the heir to the entire estate; it was the accepted plan.

  On the day following their night adventure Christian Lewis sent for his two brothers and told them he wanted to talk to them seriously.

  ‘You were a little noisy at the inn this morning,’ he announced. ‘You were seen leaving. I have already heard of it … from the town. A certain man and his wife, rising early to go to church, saw you leave and heard your ribald comments on the night’s adventures.’

  George William grimaced and looked at Ernest Augustus, who burst out laughing.

  ‘It is no laughing matter when the townsfolk disapprove,’ Christian Lewis reminded them. ‘Why don’t you two each find yourselves a good mistress and settle down.’

  ‘We have one taste in common,’ replied George William. ‘It is a love of variety.’

  Christian Lewis sighed. ‘That’s understandable. But a good mistress here would displease no one and then you should go abroad for your variety.’

  ‘Abroad,’ echoed George William. ‘I confess the prospect pleases me. Abroad … where the women are supremely elegant. French ladies! Italian ladies! They are more elegant than our Germans. Yes, I should be very pleased to find a friend or two among them.’

  ‘I am going to marry,’ Christian Lewis told them. ‘They’re forcing me to it. It is time we produced the heir, they say. That leaves you two free. I envy you.’

  ‘Dear brother, it is noble of you to take on the burden,’ said George William.

  ‘I am the eldest.
It is my duty,’ answered Christian Lewis mournfully.

  ‘I hope, brother,’ put in Ernest Augustus, ‘that you will have a comely bride.’

  ‘A woman of virtue and good background. Worthy to enter our family. We are deciding on Dorothea of Holstein-Glücksburg.’

  ‘Good fortune, brother! May you beget many sons and a few daughters.’

  ‘Thank you. I shall do my duty.’

  ‘We shall pray for you,’ said George William.

  ‘And,’ went on Christian Lewis, ‘since I shall marry and you cannot live, it seems, without a variety of adventures, perhaps you should seek them outside our territory. You and your brother should do a little travelling.’

  ‘An excellent plan. Why should we not travel together?’

  ‘That’s what I would wish. Make your plans. Have your adventures – wild as you like – provided that in your own land you conduct yourself with decorum.’

  Ernest Augustus’s eyes were shining with anticipation. There was little that could appeal to him more than a trip abroad in the company of his handsome and versatile brother.

  After the wedding of Christian Lewis the two brothers set out on their travels journeying south into Italy until they came to Venice, and so enchanted were they with this beautiful city that they decided to rest there for a while.

  They took a house on the Grand Canal and were welcomed into Venetian society: two young German Princes whose manners were, at the beginning, a little uncouth, but this gradually changed after contact with what the Venetians called the civilized world. The beauty of the city – particularly by night – enchanted the two men; Venice was at that time at the height of its glory – one of the gayest cities in Europe; rich, elegant, artistic, civilized. The young Germans had always loved music and this interest they were able to indulge to the full.

  ‘Who would live in Celle,’ demanded George William, ‘when he could live in Venice?’

  And as usual Ernest Augustus agreed with him.

  After a series of love affairs George William entered into a more permanent arrangement with a young Venetian, Signora Buccolini – a woman of beauty and a nature sensuous enough to match his own. They set up an establishment together and Ernest Augustus – always accommodating – moved from his brother’s house and set up a household of his own. But while George William lived with one mistress, Ernest Augustus failed to find one who could satisfy him completely, so he had many.