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Did Marie realize the importance of this occasion?

Marie assured her forceful sister that she did.

‘You are going to be dressed in this lilac silk. See. It does become you. You look so pretty … prettier than any of the girls here. You must. And make sure that you smile at the young Prince. He has to admire you so much that he is determined to make you his mistress.’

‘He is so young and … very ugly.’

‘Be grateful that he is. It should be all the easier for you.’

Marie grimaced, but one did not disobey Clara.

Clara, losing no opportunity, called at the castle and sought an interview with those who were arranging the fête. She pointed out that she wanted to know how much time was to be allotted to her and whether she and her sister were to perform before the Duke and the Duchess.

While she was explaining her reasons for coming, Frank Ernest von Platen, the Princes’ governor, looked in, and as he appeared to be treated with some respect Clara made herself gracious and asked if he could help her.

‘If I could be of any assistance to you it would give me great pleasure,’ said Platen gallantly.

Clara lowered her bold and beautiful eyes. ‘I am sure you can. My sister and I are recently come from France and we have been summoned to perform at the fête.’

‘You must be the daughter of the Count von Meisenburg.’

‘How clever of you to guess! Because we have come from France we have been summoned to perform in the French manner for the Princes’ entertainment.’

‘I can see that we are all going to be very fortunate.’

‘You are kind to say so, but my sister and I are a little disturbed because we are not quite sure what is expected of us.’

‘I am sure you will only have to appear to enchant.’

‘Everyone, alas, is not so kind as you … er …’

‘Platen. Frank Ernest von Platen, Governor to the Crown Prince and his brothers.’

‘Oh!’ Clara’s eyes were sparkling. ‘You can help me then. Are we expected to perform before the Duke and Duchess?’

Platen was thoughtful. ‘Well … er …’

Clara’s spirits began to sink but she rallied them. ‘I will be frank with you. We are not very rich. You know what it is to be of noble birth and poor. We came here to seek places at court and so far have been unable to get even a hearing there.’

‘The Duchess Sophia keeps a stern grip on the affairs of the household.’

‘Yet I feel that if I could get some opportunity of showing her that I would not disgrace her household … I and my sister that is. My sister is beautiful.’

‘I can believe that – if she resembles you.’

‘She is very like me … but younger.’

‘I am sure your years – although I refuse to believe they are many – have added to your charm.’

‘What pleasant compliments you pay! I did not know it was a German habit. It makes me happy though for I know that you will help me.’

‘All I can.’

‘I want to make sure that my sister and I have an opportunity of showing our talents to the Duchess … and the Duke.’

‘Then you should perform early in the entertainment, for the Duke may grow tired of it and retire early.’

‘Could this be arranged?’

‘I might arrange it.’

‘And shall we perform in the hall of the castle?’

‘If it is warm and sunny it will be out of doors. What will be the title of your performance?’

‘Pastorale.’

‘Fräulein von Meisenburg presents Pastorale …’

‘No … no. Pastorale Ordonnée par Mesdemoiselles von Meisenburg. You see the point is that we have just arrived from France and it is for this reason that we are given the opportunity.’

‘I shall see that you have every opportunity, Mademoiselle von Meisenburg.’

She flashed her brilliant smile at him.

‘We shall meet again,’ he said.

‘I hope that we shall,’ she answered.

When she left the castle she was elated. At last she had a friend inside – and an important once since he was the Governor of the Crown Prince.

As she stitched at her blue silk gown she thought a great deal about Frank Ernest von Platen. There was something about him that appealed to her. The weakness of his mouth perhaps. He would be malleable.

In the castle grounds the shepherdesses in their elegant French style costumes held the attention of the assembled court. The smaller of the two was very pretty indeed; her hair, piled high on her head, with a curl falling on one shoulder, was adorned with flowers; her cheeks had been delicately and expertly tinted; her eyes were very slightly blackened to make them look bigger than they actually were.

Her sister, equally elegant – perhaps more so – yet lacked Marie’s dainty charm. Her enormous dark eyes flashed brilliantly but anxiously over the assembled company.

She was thinking: We must make our mark!

While she danced – as they had been taught in Paris – while she sang in French she was aware of the impression Marie was making on the Crown Prince, who goggled at her, his mouth slightly open, his eyes lascivious. Poor Marie! thought Clara, yet rejoicing. But he was such a boy – he couldn’t be much more than thirteen. Ready to experiment, of course. But a boy of thirteen was of little use.

Clara’s eyes were on the Duke; that was why she noticed him yawning slightly. Was it failure again?

The Duchess Sophia was smiling graciously. The young women had a certain grace and she was glad of it. They spoke good French, but to hear French spoken like that always reminded her of her enemy at Celle and her thoughts slipped from her immediate surroundings to wander far afield. What would Madame von Harburg think of next? What new move would startle them? Madame von Harburg was becoming too friendly it seemed not only with Duke Anton Ulrich of Wolfenbüttel, but with the Emperor Leopold.

The two sisters had approached the Crown Prince and they were singing in their pleasant voices a song of welcome.

George Lewis liked it. Sophia watched him almost licking his lips over the younger girl. He would be another such as his father. She sighed. Well, they must have their mistresses. As long as he married the wife she would choose for him, what did it matter what mistresses he had? He was young as yet, though. Thirteen. Far too young to set up a mistress. Let him content himself at the moment with serving girls – which she believed he did. A necessary part of the masculine existence.

How hard these women were trying. Surely they weren’t trying to seduce George Lewis!

She glanced at Ernest Augustus. He was nearly asleep.

‘For heaven’s sake,’ she murmured, ‘try to look a little interested.’

‘Ah yes. Very charming. Very charming.’

What could one expect, Sophia asked herself. He was not as young as he would like to pretend to be. He still hunted for long hours; he attended to his business; and then he was awake half the night with some young girl in his bed. He had gone back again to Esther. What was it about that slut? Sophia wondered. Perhaps because she was so obviously a slut. Well, what mattered it. If it were not Esther it would be some other.

The pastorale was over. The women were taking their bows. George Lewis looked on slack-mouthed and his governor Platen and tutor Bussche were applauding wildly.

‘Some evidently enjoyed the performance more than you did,’ whispered Sophia to Ernest Augustus.

‘Excellent idea … these entertainments. Keeps them happy.’

‘There is no doubt,’ replied Sophia, ‘that it makes some among them very happy indeed.’

Back in their lodgings Clara tore off the blue satin gown.