As Ernest Augustus took the paper, John Frederick tried to snatch it from him. The paper fluttered to the floor to be picked up by George William while the two younger brothers, caught in an angry embrace, rolled on the floor.
George William stood laughing at them for a few seconds. Then he cried: ‘I’ll not have this solemn occasion changed into a brawl.’
He put the paper on the table and went to the aid of Ernest Augustus, and together they succeeded in thrusting John Frederick from the room.
George William locked the door and stood leaning against it.
‘Well, brother,’ he said, ‘there’s your security. Now go to.’
Christian Lewis looked grave.
‘Come, cheer up,’ admonished George William. ‘This is for me a gay occasion. I want to celebrate my freedom.’
‘I like it not,’ murmured Christian Lewis, ‘when brothers quarrel.’
The Elector Palatine sent for his sister.
‘I have news for you,’ he said. ‘News from Celle.’
Sophia sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap, but her heart beat uncomfortably. Was he going to attempt to wriggle out of his agreement? He had been lukewarm. She had recognized that. This couldn’t be yet another disappointment. How could she endure to go on living, single, at her brother’s court with no hope of ever improving her position!
‘Duke George William has decided that he is not fitted for matrimony.’
Thank God she had always been able to cloak her feelings! So he found her repulsive. He had taken a look at her, had reluctantly agreed to marry her, and then gone away – presumably to one of his mistresses – and changed his mind, and so determinedly that he had had the effrontery to jilt her. It was unforgivable.
Still she sat calmly, hands in her lap.
‘But,’ went on her brother, perhaps enjoying keeping her in suspense, ‘they have a bridegroom for you.’
She lifted her head sharply then and said in a cold voice: ‘What is the meaning of this?’
‘Duke George William declines to marry you, oh, not you personally. It has nothing to do with that. It is marriage itself to which he objects. Ernest Augustus, however, has no such objections.’
‘He has no such prospects either.’
‘That is not so. George William resigns more than you to him, sister. He has given him a promise not to marry, to pass over certain estates to his brother and the heirs of your body shall become the heirs to the entire estate.’
‘So then, nothing is changed but the man.’
The Elector laughed. ‘You’re a cool one,’ he said.
‘Tell me, brother, is it not the Brunswick-Lüneberg estates I am marrying? Should you give your consent to my marrying one of your subjects?’
‘Assuredly not.’
‘Well then, I shall have all that was promised me – the only difference is that they will be handed me by a younger brother. A good establishment is all I care about and if it can be secured through the younger brother, I am indifferent to the change of man.’
‘You’re a wise woman, Sophia, and I’m glad. You can’t afford to be aught else at your age. Mind you, I think you’ll get on better with the younger brother.’
‘And why so?’
‘He seemed to me more amenable. You’ll make him dance to your tune, Sophia. I doubt whether you would have been able to have done the same with the other.’
‘Then there is nothing in the way of going ahead with the marriage?’
‘Nothing at all. I will write this day to Ernest Augustus and tell him that you will be delighted to take him to be your husband. I see no reason for delay, sister. You can begin making your preparations at once.’
He looked after his sister as she left the room.
Cold, he thought. Ambitious. But she would make a good wife for this Ernest Augustus. She was reasonable too, which saved a great deal of trouble.
Sophia dismissed her servants and sat down by her mirror studying her reflection.
So I do not attract him! she thought. He took a look at me, weakly agreed to have me, and then went away and changed his mind.
Good God! How repulsive he must find me since he is ready to throw away a large portion of his estates and his chances of ever having legitimate children – all to be rid of me.
She was not as cold as they believed her to be but as romantic as any young woman might expect to be. Before the smallpox she had not been uncomely – perhaps if he had seen her then …
But he had, when they were children, and he had danced with her and played the guitar to her and she had, in the manner of the very young, conceived a romantic fancy for him. When she had heard she was to marry him, she had been exultant; she had changed, become more feminine, dreamed of the future. And when she had seen him, although he had been cool to her and made no pretence that he was in love with her, she had continued to dream.
But he would not have her. Moreover, he was ready to pay a great price to discard her.
Very few women could have been so insulted. She should be grateful that the engagement had not been made public – but it would be known, of course, throughout all the German principalities and throughout Europe. Cousin Charles would hear … in Breda or wherever he was … roaming about the Continent, waiting for a chance to get his kingdom back. And he would commiserate with George William; he would say: ‘I understand the fellow’s reluctance. She was offered to me, you know.’
She would never forget how George William had insulted her.
But by good fortune there was Ernest Augustus and as nothing helpful could come of brooding on her disappointment, she must take what she could get.
Ernest Augustus! He had come to Heidelberg with his brother when they were boys. He was not unpleasant; he had some charm; it was merely that George William eclipsed him. Ernest Augustus had been interested in her, at that time; he would have willingly been very friendly indeed. But she had looked on him as a younger brother with few prospects and had no intention of allowing her name to be coupled with his, a matter which might work to her detriment if other suitors were being considered.
That was when she was young, of course, before her complexion had been spoilt, when her mother still hoped that she would capture the Prince of Wales.
And now he was to be her husband. He was not unlike his brother. When one did not see them together, he would appear very like him. In any case she had to make the best of him. She could endure no more delay. She wanted marriage quickly and children to make her position sure.
She must insist on her brother’s making absolutely certain that the documents were in order; and then she must receive her bridegroom as though she was just as happy to have him as his brother.
She would do it, she had no fear.
It was only in the solitude of her own bedchamber that she allowed herself to give way to thoughts of bitterness and disappointment.
Ernest Augustus came with all speed to Heidelberg and before there could be any more delays the Elector arranged that the marriage should take place.
There were balls and banquets to celebrate the event – which the Elector informed his sister in private, he could ill afford.
‘At least,’ she retorted, ‘you will be rid of me now. So this is the last expense you will have to bear for me.’
The Elector did not answer, but in his heart he knew she was right.
So the wedding took place and Sophia was not entirely displeased with her bridegroom. They were the same age; and Ernest Augustus seemed to have grown both mentally and physically since he took over his brother’s commitments. He was shrewd and ambitious; and that was what Sophia would expect her husband to be.
He assured her that he considered his brother’s defection as the greatest luck to himself. He proved to be a passionate lover and Sophia, being an ambitious woman, reciprocated, being pleased that the foundations of her life were now settled. It was not what she would have wished; she still thought a great deal about England – but of course that country was closed to her ambitions now. She had a princely husband, who was young and lusty; and she believed that when she had her children – sons to start with, to make sure of the succession – she would be a contented woman.