The Duke shrugged his shoulders. ‘I confess I would rather be allied to Hanover than Wolfenbüttel. I should have been delighted to be reconciled to my brother Ernest Augustus. We were such friends in our youth.’
Oh, God! thought Bernstorff. No reminiscences! This is no time for them.
‘It is, of course, you my lord, who will decide.’
Again he saw the look flash across the Duke’s face. He knew what his minister was implying. Affairs of state have to be decided by women’s sentimental whims. George William saw in that moment all the advantages of the match with Hanover; he was remembering that all Princes and Princesses must accept marriages of convenience. He had intended that this should be so – but once more he had given way. He felt ashamed of himself. He had no will of his own. The Duchy of Celle was managed by Eléonore and everyone knew it.
‘It is too late now,’ he muttered. ‘The betrothal to Augustus William will be announced at the birthday.’
Stunned, pale with rage and frustration, Bernstorff took his leave.
He must put up a fight. There was too much at stake to allow everything to be lost. Bernstorff shut himelf into his private apartment; he paced up and down. What could be done at this late hour? Anton Ulrich and his family were making their preparations to leave Wolfenbüttel; in two days’ time it would be too late, for once the announcement of the betrothal had been made George William would never withdraw it; nor would Ernest Augustus accept a girl who had been betrothed elsewhere. Two days in which to save a plan – a fortune for himself … and for Clara von platen!
Ah, there was the answer. Clara had as much to lose as he had. She, too, was in the pay of William of Orange; she, too, wanted George Lewis kept close at hand so that she could control his affairs through her sister as she herself did those of Ernest Augustus.
He must get a message through to Hanover with all speed for he knew that Clara would work as zealously as he himself could do.
He sat down at his table, wrote a rapid message explaining what was happening at Celle, and then sent for his servant.
He stood at his window watching the man ride away to Hanover.
Clara rushed into Ernest Augustus’s presence scattering all those servants who were with him.
‘My dear Clara, you look distraught,’ said her lover. ‘What’s that you have in your hand?’
‘Distraught! And so will you be when you have heard. This is a message from Celle. Do you know what is happening? Their little pet will be sixteen on the fifteenth and her devoted Maman is arranging to announce her engagement on that day.’
Ernest Augustus’s smile faded. He was now as eager for alliance with Celle as Clara and Bernstorff.
‘To… .’
‘Exactly,’ stormed Clara. ‘To the Wolfenbüttel boy. They are such good friends and the little darling will not mind leaving dear Papa and dearest Maman for such a nice little fellow.’
‘Clara, calm yourself.’
‘Yes, my dear. We must both be calm. We must think how to frustrate this plan.’
‘But George William has agreed to it.’
‘She has persuaded him. Bernstorff has done his utmost to make your poor feeble brother see that he is just a cipher in the hands of that woman, and to some extent he has managed it, but she has only to get him alone and she’ll have him dancing to her tune.’
‘Nevertheless George William has agreed to the betrothal.’
‘Yet he would prefer George Lewis as his son-in-law. He is very eager for the alliance. It is merely that she has overruled him … as usual.’
‘Well, what can we do now?’
‘We have to stop the announcement.’
‘How?’
‘By your going over to Celle and offering George Lewis for Sophia Dorothea.’
‘And the Duchess?’
‘We do not have to persuade her. That would be an impossibility in any case. George William is desperately anxious to be on good terms with you. He longs to see one government between Celle and Hanover.’
‘That would come automatically with his death when Celle will go to George Lewis.’
‘But he wants to make sure that his daughter loses nothing. In every respect the alliance between Celle and Hanover is perfect; and George William realizes it.’
‘But the Duchess …’
‘A sentimental woman. She imagines her daughter loves this Wolfenbüttel boy. And you must admit that George Lewis is scarcely the sort to attract a girl who has been brought up as Sophia Dorothea has.’
‘He might have done more to make himself agreeable.’
‘You ask the impossible. He could not make himself agreeable however he tried … that is to a girl brought up like the Princess of Celle. I believe he gives a good account of himself in some quarters. But we waste time. What can we do? Someone must go to Celle.’
‘Who?’
‘Someone who is strong enough to make George William see how important this match would be. Someone strong enough to make him forget his sentimental desire to please his wife and spoon-feed his daughter.’
Ernest Augustus was looking at her. He thought her magnificent with her alert brain, her grasp of affairs, and coupled with it that overpowering sensuality, that skill and knowledge-ability which made her as deep a joy to a man such as he was in the bedchamber as in council.
She was the one who would put the case to George William – but how could he send his mistress? George William, like the faithful married man he was, would object to her, before he saw her; he might even refuse to receive her. No, for all her brilliance Clara would not stand a chance.
Clara was looking at him speculatively. He was the obvious choice. Clara narrowed her eyes, picturing Ernest Augustus ordering that the coach be prepared for him to go to Celle. News of his arrival might well reach the castle before he did and Eléonore would have no doubt of the reason for his journey. She would be prepared, and if she had an opportunity of making her husband promise not to give way, she would surely succeed.
Clara said: ‘The Duchess Sophia must go.’
‘Are you mad? She knows nothing of this. She hates the Duchess of Celle. She has never forgotten that the Duke refused to marry her, turned her over to me, even giving me his birthright to elude marriage, and then fell in love with Eléonore and made such efforts to marry her. You know women. Do you think Sophia will ever forgive that? Besides, she wants an English bride for George Lewis.’
‘She has seen that she cannot get one.’
‘But this proposed match between George Lewis and Sophia Dorothea has always been kept a secret from her. She has no notion.’
‘Then she must have a notion … quickly. For she is the one. If she will go to Celle, if she will talk to George William he would not be able to resist her.’
‘She would never do it.’
‘She would if she were made to see the importance to Hanover of this marriage.’
‘And who could make her see that?’
‘You … her husband.’
‘Do you think …?’
‘My dear, you are no George William. Sophia is the daughter of a Queen and doesn’t forget it. Morever, her mother was the daughter of a King of England – which to her is the highest honour in the world. Her beliefs give her an unsurpassable dignity. She and she alone could bring George William to our side … even now … providing she is able to do so before Eléonore discovers what is going on.’
‘I should have to explain to her what we have been planning these last months.’
‘Never mind. She accepts you as the master. There you have been wiser than your brother. She … the great Sophia … has never sought to meddle unduly in your affairs. She did over this English visit and see what a failure that was! It is something to bear in mind when you talk to her. She is humble at the moment because of it. You could explain to her the desirability of this match; you could make her see the part she has to play. This is the right moment while she remembers the disaster of the English visit and all the money it cost you. Rarely has she been so humble as she is at this moment – nor will ever be again. You must go to her. There is no time to lose. You must bring her to our side and she must not waste a minute. The sooner we can get her riding to Celle, determined to make that marriage, the better.’