He had heard, he wrote, that George Lewis was about to set out on a tour of Europe, and as he believed he was including England, doubtless he would have to pass near Holland. William would be very disappointed if his kinsman, George Lewis, did not call on him. He hoped that George Lewis would have time for at least a week’s visit. He and his wife, the Princess Mary, were looking forward to making his acquaintance.
‘You must go,’ said Sophia. ‘You can’t have too many friends.’
So George Lewis said farewell to a regretful Marie who was not too sad to make the parting unpleasant, and promised him that she would be counting the days to his return and that she would pray he would not forget her, for she knew there was not another lover in the world to be compared with George Lewis.
George Lewis muttered that he would not forget her; and he would soon be back.
Then he left Hanover and set out on his travels.
When George Lewis arrived at The Hague he found a very warm welcome waiting for him. This was more unusual than he realized, for William of Orange was a cold man, never effusive; yet he had commanded his wife Mary to make much of the Crown Prince of Hanover and, although she had wept for days when forced to marry him, she now obeyed him absolutely in everything he commanded.
Moreover, she was very pleased to have an opportunity for gaiety. There was little enough at the court of The Hague where William set the fashion, and Mary, who had come not so very long ago from the court of her gay uncle Charles II, missed the balls and banquets and general fun-provoking occasions which had come back into fashion with the Restoration of the Monarchy.
George Lewis was pleased with his welcome. William suited him in a way. Taciturn, hunchbacked, pale-faced and far from attractive, he made George Lewis feel like a romantic hero in his presence; and since, although his manner was cold to others, he was pleasant to his guest, George Lewis was delighted with his host. As for Mary, she was quite charming. If her sister Anne were anything like her, George Lewis would be ready to begin his wooing without delay.
It was Mary’s pleasure to show him the Palace of The Hague and the gardens which William himself had planned. William was very interested in architecture, she explained. Was George Lewis? He shook his head. No, he was a soldier.
It was a very good thing to be, answered Mary, since he had a principality to protect. He would find a great deal in common with William who was a great soldier too. Doubtless George Lewis had heard of his exploits.
‘As we have of yours,’ Mary hastened to add. ‘We all remember how you conducted yourself in the Battle of the Bridge at Conz. It was the talk of the army. I believe you were only fifteen at the time.’
George turned and mumbled something unintelligible, but he was pleased.
He had done well at that battle where he had proved that he was a natural soldier.
‘Well now, of course you are here on a different mission. That’s if you have a mission at all. Or are you just doing the Grand Tour for pleasure?’
‘It is a grand tour for pleasure,’ muttered George Lewis.
‘And you are going to England. You will enjoy meeting your relations.’
‘Oh yes.’
She looked wistful. ‘England!’ she said. ‘It still seems like home to me. Does that surprise you? Do you think I should regard Holland as my home now that I am married?’
‘Well, my mother has never been to England, but she still thinks of it as her home because her mother was English.’
‘My great-aunt Elizabeth. She was so lovely, we always heard. It was very pleasant hearing tales of the family. Is it not a pity that we all have to be separated.’
‘It’s always been so.’
‘Ah, I cried when I left home … cried and cried … and my dear sister Anne was too ill to know that I had gone. If you see my sister Anne, will you tell her how I long to see her? Will you remember me to her very specially?’
‘If I see her,’ he said cautiously; but she was alert, watching him.
He shrugged his shoulders. He had respected his promise not to speak of the real object of his visit.
‘She is a charming girl,’ said Mary.
He nodded again.
‘Gay, affectionate – and pretty.’
She was watching him closely, but he congratulated himself that he betrayed nothing.
Later Mary said to her husband: ‘I talked to him and although he is so clumsy he betrayed nothing.’
‘You can depend upon it,’ said William gravely, ‘that he is being sent over on approval. If your uncle likes him he’ll have Anne. Who else is there for her?’
‘Poor Anne!’ sighed Mary; then she cast down her eyes, flushing, remembering how many people, only such a short time ago, had said Poor Mary.
‘He’s not much of a catch,’ admitted William. ‘But that mother of his is after Anne. I am certain of it. We mustn’t allow it.’
‘I don’t think Anne would care for him.’
William gave his wife a contemptuous look. As though it were a matter of Anne’s caring!
‘We must do our best to stop it,’ he said.
‘Yes, William.’
He looked at her with narrowed eyes. He was not going to explain. He had not yet tamed her and he was even a little uncertain of her. He would not forget easily – nor forgive – the spectacle she had made of herself weeping for everyone to see when he had been introduced as her future husband.
He had married her because there was a hope that she would one day be the Queen of England and although she was the elder sister, she had not yet produced an heir. This meant that if she died before him, and Anne married and had children they would come before him. Therefore he wanted to put off Anne’s marriage as long as possible; and certainly he would prefer her not to marry a man who – like himself – was in the line of succession.
First of all he had to find out whether his surmise that George was going to England as a suitor for Anne was correct; and if it were so he had to stop it.
He said coldly that he had a state matter to which he must attend and left his wife, bewildered and unhappy, as always; but he had forgotten her as soon as he left the room. He was planning how he could make George Lewis betray his secret.
Hollands Gin was the answer, for like a good German George Lewis found it irresistible.
There he sat, side by side with William, while William’s specially selected friends carried on the conversation.
They talked of England and the Princess Anne, sister to their Stadholder’s wife.
‘You can be sure that the King of England and the Duke of York are considering it is time she married.’
‘She is seventeen – and marriageable.’
‘Wasn’t there some talk about the Earl of Mulgrave?’
‘Oh yes, Mistress Anne became rather romantic about the fellow and he was sent away on a trip to Tangiers.’
‘I believe the Crown Prince could let us into a secret.’
George Lewis was pleasantly happy. He had seen one of the Princess Mary’s attendants whom he fancied, a nice, plump Dutch girl. She had seemed as though she would be willing.
Hollands Gin. Willing girls. It was a good life.
Someone was leaning forward smiling at him, implying that he was a fellow who knew how to enjoy himself. He’d have a good time before he settled down.
‘Settled down!’
‘The Princess Anne would be as good a wife as her sister the Princess Mary.’
‘I’d see to that,’ he boasted.
‘Ha, ha.’ They were laughing sycophantishly. ‘She’ll know who’s the master, you can swear on that. You’ll soon show her.’
‘I’ll show her,’ he said.
‘Does she know why you’re coming?’