Free The Princess of Celle: (Georgian Series) by Jean Plaidy

friend and Sophia seemed satisfied with her fate, so perhaps she did not hold the jilting against him.
    He would ask their advice and help.
    Sophia received him graciously. How handsome he is! she thought. Being a little drawn, a little thinner, does not detract from his charm.
    He went to the nursery and saw the children. George Lewis was almost five, Frederick Augustus four – and both were healthy boys.
    ‘What do you think of my sons?’ asked Sophia, watching him closely for a trace of envy.
    ‘You are fortunate. My brother is delighted, I am sure.’
    ‘From what I hear you are not pleased now that you renounced your rights. Is it true that there is a lady in Breda whom you would like to marry?’
    ‘It is true. I want to have a good talk with you and Ernest Augustus about her. I think you can help me.’
    ‘Help you? You need help to persuade the lady?’ Sophia’s laugh was a little harsh. So he is in love! she was thinking. He could not contemplate marrying me. He preferred to give up his rights to escape me. And now if he is as enamoured of this French creature as rumours say, he is feeling he acted a little hastily. He is wishing he had thrown me over without bothering to find a husband for me!
    She could have hated him – if he was not so handsome, somuch more charming than Ernest Augustus, if she had not decided when she had heard she was to marry him, to fall in love with him.
    ‘You will hear what I have to suggest?’
    ‘The contracts stand firm,’ she replied grimly.
    ‘Naturally. I did not mean in that way. George Lewis is all attention.’
    ‘He is an intelligent child.’
    ‘Two intelligent children! Lucky Sophia! Lucky Ernest Augustus! I am sure you will want to help me to be happy.’
    George Lewis was holding up a wooden sword.
    ‘Uncle,’ he said, ‘I shall be a soldier.’
    George William lifted the boy in his arms. What an ugly little fellow he was, but his eyes were bright.
    ‘We will go to war together, nephew.’
    ‘I shall come too,’ piped up Frederick Augustus.
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘Come,’ said Sophia, ‘dinner will soon be served. And afterwards we shall talk together.’
    They left the nursery and George William went to his apartments in the palace.
    They are contented, he thought; Sophia owes me no grudge and Ernest Augustus should be very grateful to me. They will help me.
    They had eaten well of sausage and red cabbage with ginger and onions – a dish to which, during his sojourns abroad, George William had grown unaccustomed.
    He thought longingly of the French cooking at the table of the Princesse de Tarente. But he must not think of Breda – only as to how he could bring Eléonore out of it.
    He noticed that every time he saw Ernest Augustus, his brother was changing. He was getting gross with too much good living – greasy German food, and the heavy ale they drank. He hunted frequently, travelled occasionally; and took his choice of the women of his court. A typical ruler, thought George William. How different his own life would be with Eléonore!
    And Sophia? She was dignified, never forgetting her royal blood, and as long as everyone else remembered it she did not care that her husband was blatantly unfaithful. She ruled the household and would never allow any of his mistresses to attempt to dominate her. She was the woman supreme in the castle; and as long as Ernest Augustus granted her that, he could go his own way. Now of course she was hoping for more children. Two were not enough; for this reason Ernest Augustus must spend certain nights with her.
    It was an amicable arrangement and Ernest Augustus was pleased with his marriage.
    Sophia kept her feeling to herself, which was as well, for George William had no idea of the emotions he aroused in her, and when she said that she wanted to help him, he believed her.
    When they were alone together he explained the situation to them both.
    ‘A pity she is a Frenchwoman,’ said Ernest Augustus. ‘I never