Sophia Dorothea threw herself into his arms. ‘I feared I should never see you again,’ she cried. ‘I could not have gone on living without you.’
‘All the time I was thinking of you. I came back for you. I fought for my life as I never have before … because it was for you.’
‘I am afraid …’
‘The little Knesebeck is guarding. We can trust her.’
‘Oh, yes, we can trust her. And I swore that if you came back to me …’
He kissed her. He understood. He had been spared for her; now there would be no holding back.
Clara waited for him in her apartment. Naked beneath her robe – scarlet because the first time it had been scarlet and that would remind him. Her face was freshly painted and in the candlelight she looked as radiant as a young girl. She put down the candle, which she had held close to the mirror, and let the robe fall open while she let her hands caress her body. It was firm and no one would guess she had borne children; she wondered anxiously whether that last trouble had changed her. Königsmarck, the rogue, had been responsible for that. She would tell him so. It had made her really ill at the time and no one believed the story she had put out as to the cause of her illness. She would have been pleased to have had a little Königsmarck, but the time would have been awkward. At least the others could have been Platens by Ernest Augustus, and the truth was that Ernest Augustus was not the man he had been; and because he had been away from the court the child could not have been assigned to him either.
She knew that it was a little Königsmarck; and there had only been one course open to her. Dangerous! Humiliating! She had hated it. But as she had meant to tell him, a small price to pay for all the fun they had together.
Her skin was as soft and white as ever; the daily milk baths looked after that.
Oh, Königsmarck! she thought. It was worth while.
Anticipation excited her. She wrapped her robe tightly about her and trembled.
‘Königsmarck! Königsmarck. Hurry, Königsmarck!’
How hard it was to wait! Up and down the room she paced; taking a candle she went to the window and idly looked out, but she saw nothing except her own face reflected in the glass. Fresh and young like the face of a young girl. So it would seem to him.
But how long he was in coming!
It was some time later when she realized that he would not come at all.
Clara was angry but she masked her feelings. Why did he not come? Had he not understood her invitation. Didn’t he know that she was the one who decided when an affair should be terminated?
Was it possible that he had a mistress at court? She knew that he had a romantic attachment to Sophia Dorothea, but that was nothing. Just kiss my hand and dream of what can never be. Königsmarck was too much of a man to be satisfied with that. It was just an airy-fairy game he played to pass the time.
Now, he had a mistress and Clara was going to find out who; and when she did she was going to see that that little affair did not progress.
He would soon be back with her.
George Lewis had gone to Flanders with his men and the atmosphere of the palace was always easier for Sophia Dorothea when he was absent.
She had been living excitingly since Königsmarck’s return. They wrote letters constantly to each other; there was another who was in their secret and that was Aurora Königsmarck, Königsmarck’s sister, who had come to live in his mansion for a while. Aurora adored her brother, approved of his romantic adventure with the Princess, and being ready to act with Eléonore von Knesebeck as go-between, made the affair so much easier to conduct.
‘For the first time since my sixteenth birthday I am happy!’ Sophia Dorothea told Eléonore von Knesebeck, whom she and her dear Philip had nicknamed affectionately the Confidante.
Eléonore was delighted; she was constantly visiting Aurora Königsmarck with whom she had appeared to strike up a friendship. Back and forth went the letters. Sophia Dorothea read them and reread them and tied them up with ribbons that she might keep them constantly with her.
Occasionally there were meetings and it was the delight of Confidante Knesebeck at the palace and Aurora Königsmarck in her brother’s mansion to put their heads together and arrange trysts for the lovers.
Sophia Dorothea spent her time between her children and her lover and it was true that never had she been so happy. Her beauty blossomed and Eléonore von Knesebeck declared that her very looks would betray her if she did not take care.
Life had become gay, colourful, touched with delicious intrigue.
The fact that meetings were so difficult to arrange made them all the more exciting when they took place. Königsmarck congratulated himself on having a place in the Guards which meant that he was often in the gardens on duty. How simple for Sophia Dorothea out for a walk with Eléonore or with the children to pass by. Then they could feast their eyes on each other and even though she could do no more than smile and he salute her, their day was made.
The children looked for him; they would point him out to her and he made a special point of saluting them. Young George Augustus would salute in return, standing very straight like a soldier, and little Sophia Dorothea would attempt to do the same.
Sophia Dorothea was walking in the gardens one day with her little daughter, Sophia Dorothea on the alert for a glimpse of her lover and had not realized how far they had walked, when the child began to whimper that she was tired and couldn’t climb all the steps to the apartment in the palace.
Sophia Dorothea laughed and caught the little girl up in her arms.
There were attendants who could have carried the child, but Sophia Dorothea did not ask them to do so; and as she was about to mount the stairs a shadow fell across the sunlight and a hand was laid on her arm.
‘The child is too heavy for Your Highness.’
The sound of that voice thrilled her; she turned, a radiant smile on her lips.
Their hands touched as he took the child, who gazed at him in wonder and attempted to make the salute.
Königsmarck carried the little Princess up the stairs with her mother leading the way, as though, her attendants told each other afterwards, they were an ordinary couple returning home together. It was an extraordinary way to behave and a complete flouting of etiquette; but then the Crown Princess had never had much respect for the Hanoverian customs, having been brought up in free and easy Celle.
Königsmarck was putting the child down when Clara on her way to the gardens where she knew he would be on duty came into sight.
She saw in a moment what was happening. Königsmarck carrying the child from the gardens; Sophia Dorothea flushed and excited; she heard her say: ‘But that was good of you, my dear Count.’ My dear Count! So that was it. Could it possibly be that she had dared to become his mistress!
Clara was beside them. She bowed coolly to Sophia Dorothea who, with something like insolence – thought Clara – acknowledged the greeting. Königsmarck bowed low to her and Clara passed on; under her rouge she was white with rage. So this was why he did not come to her now. It was for Sophia Dorothea that he had abandoned her.
Clara came into Ernest Augustus’s aparment where he was resting. He was growing old, thought Clara; and although his gout was improved a little he was not the man he had been.
She was fortunate to have kept her hold on him; and this she had done partly by her forceful and magnetic personality, partly by seeing that her husband had risen in importance so that they were a team who could not easily be dismissed; she had also been wise in keeping her hold on political affairs, for instance the matter of Bernstorff who was so useful to them in Celle. Foreign envoys knew that they had to placate Clara von Platen if they wished to be well received at Hanover. Yes, she had been wise, but she must not cease to be; she knew Ernest Augustus well and that if he decided to push her aside, he would do so however important she had become.