‘Well, to hell with Paris. To hell with the Roi Soleil. We’ll try our luck in Osnabrück.’
‘Osnabrück!’ sighed Marie. ‘Who has ever heard of Osnabrück.’
‘We shall see that people hear of it,’ Clara reminded her.
‘Oh, Clara, I really believe you will.’
‘You must always listen to your sister, Marie,’ said their father. ‘She will know what is best to be done.’
‘I was rather attracted by Osnabrück when I heard about the Prince Bishop,’ admitted Clara.
‘Ernest Augustus – Prince Bishop of Osnabrück,’ murmured Count Carl Philip.
‘A man,’ went on Clara, ‘who seeks to set himself up as a Grand Monarque.’
‘He hates the French,’ put in the Count. ‘His great enemy is Louis. And yet …’
‘And yet,’ finished Clara, ‘he would be like Louis in every way. I heard he tries to make a miniature Versailles at Osnabrück, that he keeps his mistresses and tries to deceive himself that they are as glorious as Madame de Montespan. I am sure he will be interested in two young ladies recently come from Paris … wearing the latest Paris clothes, looking like court ladies … and ladies of Louis’ Court at that … clever, beautiful, shining with French gloss.’
Count Carl Philip slapped his thigh.
‘You’ll do well for yourself, daughter. You’ll settle the family’s fortunes, I’ll vow.’
‘His wife is ageing; she has borne many children; and although she has her own way in some matters she is tolerant about others. One need not fear her.’
‘The Duchess Sophia accepts the fact that men – rulers that is – must have their mistresses.’
‘She is a wise wife. I long to make the acquaintance of Ernest Augustus.’
Clara lay back against the upholstery of the coach and closed her eyes.
She was excited. The thought of adventure always stimulated her. It had been disconcerting – more than that, humiliating – to be turned out of Paris as they had been; and yet in a way it was flattering. Why had they been ordered to leave? Because those sycophants who surrounded the King of France had been afraid of them, afraid that she, Clara Elizabeth von Meisenburg, might attract the King’s attention and acquire too much influence over him. Beautiful women attracted the King’s attention, but it was those who possessed brains as well as beauty who were feared.
They saw in her the makings of a King’s mistress – not the sort of woman with whom he amused himself for a few weeks but a King’s mistress who could become the most important woman in the country; and everyone knew that it was the woman who became the King’s chief mistress who ruled the King and therefore the country.
Clara knew she possessed all the qualifications to rule. It was humiliating therefore to be turned from the glittering Court of France to try her talents in a smaller one.
Yet they were wise to come. There had been too many enemies in France. At Osnabrück they would not be recognized for what they were until the field was won.
She had already decided that she would take Ernest Augustus; and for Marie – there was the son, the Crown Prince, who was as yet a boy, and said to be sullen. Probably he was inexperienced. With herself advising the Prince Bishop and Marie having his eldest son in thrall, it would mean that the Meisenburg girls were ruling as they were surely meant to.
The coach was coming into Osnabrück, and the entire family were eagerly looking about them.
‘It is not like Paris,’ complained Marie.
‘Fool!’ snapped Clara. ‘Did you expect it to be?’
‘Now girls,’ murmured the Count, ‘no quarrelling. Remember, the family must stand together.’
The coach came to rest before an inn which looked small and mean to the girls.
‘Our lodgings,’ said the Count, ‘until we can find a better.’
They alighted and the host came out to greet them.
Visitors from Paris! This was an important occasion. The best rooms available? Most certainly!
Clara stood looking about her disdainfully; the smell of sauerkraut floated out from the kitchens.
‘Ugh!’ she murmured. ‘One realizes one is not in Paris.’
It was not so easy to conquer Osnabrück as the Meisenburgs had fancied. The Duchess Sophia kept a sharp eye on who was admitted to the castle; and she saw no reason why Count von Meisenburg and his daughters should be welcomed there. They came from France, and she was not enamoured of the French. Now had they come from England she might have received them very kindly. They were not rich and were forced to take a humble lodging, and it seemed during that first year of their residence at Osnabrück that this fortress was as difficult to storm as that of Paris. In Paris they had at least been considered dangerous; here they were ignored.
Clara would pace up and down the bedroom which the girls were obliged to share and clench her fists in rage. ‘We’re wasting time, I tell you. Precious time.’
Clara was indeed, thought Marie, rejoicing in her seventeen years which was very different from twenty-four.
‘All we get is news of the court; all we see is the Prince Bishop passing by.’
‘He did look at the window and smile as though he liked you,’ ventured Marie.
‘As though he liked me!’ cried Clara. ‘If only I could get a post as maid of honour to the Duchess!’
But there seemed to be no hope. The Count did his best, but the Duchess Sophia had no desire to add to her household.
The sisters saw the departure of the Crown Prince and his brother for the Grand Tour with their governors Platen and Bussche.
‘The younger brother is the more handsome,’ commented Marie.
‘But it is the elder one who is more interesting to us.’
‘I should not care to go to bed with him!’
‘Then you are a fool. You should at this moment be planning how you can.’
‘Clara! Those wild plans! Do you think there is ever going to be any chance of carrying them out?’
‘I tell you I am not going to sit at windows watching processions all my life. I am going to be part of them … and right in the centre.’
Marie sighed. There had been a time when she believed that Clara would get everything she set out for. Only now was she beginning to doubt.
Life was dull in Osnabrück. Why had they ever come here? Clara asked her father twenty times a day. He was asking himself the same question. They had very little money. Who, he asked in return, would have believed that in a place like Osnabrück it would have been so difficult for three talented people to get a hearing?
The fact was, pointed out Clara, that they were too talented. People were suspicious of them.
Their French manners were noticed as they passed through the narrow streets; their French clothes sniggered at publicly and admired in secret.
There came the day when the Princes returned from the Grand Tour and there was to be a fête at the castle to welcome them.
As they had travelled abroad it would be amusing to show them something foreign – something similar to what they had probably seen on their travels. It would prove that Osnabrück had something to offer which was not very different from that which they had seen abroad.
A visitor from the castle called on the Count von Meisenburg. He had been in France, had he not? He had two daughters – very attractive young ladies by all accounts. If they would care to join in the fête they might do so. Perhaps they could sing some songs in French which would amuse the young Princes.
Would they!
Clara was almost wild with joy.
When the visitor had left she cried: ‘This is the opportunity for which we have been waiting. Now … if we don’t go on from here, it will be our own faults.’
There was great activity in the Meisenburg lodgings. Silks and laces were strewn across the floor. They had to make their own gowns for they could afford no dressmaker; and, as Clara had said, what they wore should be a secret. They wanted no one copying them.