Виктория Холт - Queen in waiting

Sophia Charlotte, Electress of Brandenburg, was discussing the possibility of a marriage for her dear but sadly impoverished friend Eleanor Erdmuthe Louisa, widowed Margravine of Ansbach.

"For you see, my dear Frederick, her position is intolerable as it stands and what will become of that poor child of hers if her mother has no position in the world?"

Frederick, Elector of Brandenburg, smiled at his wife. He rarely smiled when he was not with her for his was far from a genial nature; but since their marriage he had never ceased to be delighted with her and had been a faithful husband which was something of a miracle when the way of life among German princelings was promiscuous by habit and the coarser the more natural.

But no other German prince possessed a wife like Sophia Charlotte. She was the most beautiful Princess in Germany, so he believed: as soon as he had seen her he had been struck by this unusual beauty, so outstanding among the buxom ladies of his previous acquaintance. She had a grace and charm inherited from her Stuart ancestors for her mother was Sophia, Electress of Hanover and her mother had been Elizabeth of Bohemia daughter of James I of England. The Stuart charm was very noticeable in Sophia Charlotte—tempered, thought Frederick, with good sound German common sense. Charm and good sense! What a combination !

"Well, we must bring about this marriage. It would be excellent from all points of view," he said.

"It would give me great pleasure to see her happy. Poor soul, I fear she has no easy time in Ansbach with that stepson of hers. I believe he always resented his father's second marriage and now he has a chance to express his disapproval. It's no atmosphere in which to bring up children."

"Nothing could suit us better than to see a friend of ours married into Saxony. John George has been a cause of trouble since he inherited. And I believe that woman of his is in the pay of Austria."

"Then he needs marriage with a woman like Eleanor to break the association. Though I've heard that his passion for Magdalen von Roohlitz is quite violent and she has great power over him."

"Eleanor will break that."

Sophia Charlotte was dubious. Eleanor was a dear creature but meek and although pretty enough in her way, perhaps not persuasively charming or erotically skilled enough to break the hold of a sensuous woman like von Roohlitz.

Sophia Charlotte's inclination was to turn away from unpleasantness and such relationships as that between the dissolute Elector of Saxony and his mistress was in her opinion decidedly unpleasant; but she was never one to shirk the distasteful at the expense of duty; and she was deeply concerned about her friend.

Her husband looked at her a little wistfully. He would have been delighted if she had taken more interest in politics. He had often visualized an ideal relationship. She was the only woman in the world with whom he would have shared his powers—and she did not want a share in it. If she had brought that penetrating mind of hers to the study of politics, if they had worked together, what a pair they would have made! But no! She preferred literature, music, art and discussion to statescraft. She would converse learnedly with theologians on the possibility of an after-life but had little concern for the affairs of her husband's electorate.

Yet what could he do but indulge her for his greatest desire was to please her. There she sat now—serene, almost unbelievably beautiful, gravely discussing this marriage—not because the alliance would help to break friendship between Saxony and Austria and turn it towards Brandenburg where it was needed, but because her friend and protege, poor widowed Eleanor, needed a home and settled life for her children.

Her children! That was at the root of the matter. He and Sophia Charlotte had one son, Frederick William—and the little boy was already showing signs of an ungovernable temper—and she longed for a daughter, preferably like Eleanor's who was a pretty little girl, now about eight years old, flaxen-haired, and plump with bright blue enquiring eyes. He had seen Sophia Charlotte's eyes on little Wilhelmina Caroline. And it was to provide security for the child that Sophia Charlotte wanted this match.

He went on: "When she is married into Saxony it will be easier for her to provide for her children's future."

"Poor little Caroline!" She was referring to Wilhelmina Caroline who was known by her second name. "That stepbrother who is now the Margrave resents them at Ansbach. Eleanor was delighted when I suggested she should come to us in Berlin."

"I'm not surprised, my dear. You make them very welcome and it is, as we all know, an honour to be a guest at Lutzenburg which you have made comparable, so they tell me, with the Palace of Versailles."

"That is an exaggeration. Nothing on earth could compare with Versailles. We are none of us in a position to set ourselves up as little Kings of France. Nor do we wish to. Lutzenburg is ours ... we have made it as it is and certainly we have not tried to imitate Louis."

"You have made it so, my dear, not I," he reminded her.

"But for your generosity I should never have had the opportunity." She smiled at him wishing she could feel more strongly towards him. But she felt no love for him nor for any man. Moreover he was middleaged and deformed, and when she had first seen him she had been horrified, but her mother had warned her years before that all Princesses must accept the marriages which were made for them and even if they must go to bed with a gorilla for the sake of the state they should not complain. Frederick was no gorilla—merely in her young eyes an unattractive, unshapely old man whom she had learned to tolerate; and his indulgence to her had touched her, for not only did he wish to please her by giving her gifts like the beautiful castle of Lutzenburg, not only did he allow her to invite her own circle of friends there, even though they were of no interest to him, but he was actually in awe of her. When she considered the promiscuity of her father, the Elector of Hanover, and the crudeness of her eldest brother George Lewis with his dreadful mistresses; when she considered her dignified mother's resignation and the manner in which George Lewis treated his beautiful wife, Sophia Dorothea, she must think she was very fortunate.

"I want you to be happy," he said rising and coming nearer.

She put out a hand for fear this might be an approach to some display of affection.

"You are so kind," she said coolly, and he immediately recoiled. "I have asked her to come along to see me," she went on. He saw the tender smile touch her face; she had never shown such tenderness for him. "I have asked her to bring young Caroline with her. She is such a bright little thing."

"She should be grateful to you."

"Not yet. Only if her mother marries into Saxony and through the marriage can arrange a happy future for her."

He went to her, took her hand and kissed it. As soon as he left her he was scowling, wondering why one of the most powerful Electors in Germany should be so humbly eager to please a woman who showed him little else but a kindly tolerance.

Caroline looked out of the window over the lawns to the terraces and statues and thought how much more pleasant it was here than at Ansbach. Secretly she thought how much more beautiful, how much more stately, how much more exciting was the Electress Sophia Charlotte than her own mother— although she would admit this to no one.

Poor Mamma was so often in tears. It was a sad life when you were resented and unwanted. She knew that well enough for she shared in the resentment. William Frederick did too but he, poor child, being two years younger than herself was too young to understand. At six one understood very little, whereas at eight...

Well at eight one understood that Mamma was very unhappy at Ansbach, that her stepbrother George Frederick, who had been Margrave since their father's death—although, being a minor, in name only—did not want them; and that was not a very pleasant way of living. How much better to be Electress Sophia Charlotte who was so beautiful and clever and adored by everyone. There was no question of her being unwanted.

And this goddess had time to take notice of a little eight-year-old girl, to ask her about Ansbach. Caroline was uneasy remembering that conversation. Had she said too much? Would Mamma scold in her tearful way which was almost worse than bullying? Sophia Charlotte asked about lessons, not as a governess would, but as though she were interested because learning was so exciting. Was it? Caroline had not thought so until the Electress had made her feel it was, and now she was eager to find out, for surely the Electress could not be wrong? Electress Sophia Charlotte had selected Caroline for particular notice, had talked to her as she had never been talked to before. She had made her feel that she was important', and to be made to feel important by the most important person one had ever met could only mean that one was important.

What an exciting discovery!

Caroline could scarcely wait to be once more in the presence of this goddess and yet she feared it. Suppose by some little stupidity she forfeited her regard?

"I hope," she said aloud, "that we stay at Berlin for ever and ever."

From the window she saw a man walking with other men in the gardens. She knew who he was—someone very important because he had been pointed out to her, John George, Elector of Saxony. The most important guest in the Castle—far more than the widow of Ansbach and her young daughter.

John George was gesticulating. How angry he appeared to be! thought Caroline, and wondered what those men were saying to him to make him so.

"I don't think I like him much," she said aloud.

John George of Saxony was arguing with his ministers—two of whom had accompanied him on this visit to Berlin. They had even followed him out of doors to continue the discussion and would not leave him alone so that he felt as though he were going mad. Surely an Elector should not have to obey his own ministers.

"My lord Elector, this marriage is a necessity. It is for the purpose of making it that we are here. Alliance with Brandenburg is essential to us, and this marriage is their condition."

"I have no wish to marry this woman."

"She is meek."

"Insipid!"

"All the better. She will give you no trouble."

"She had better not try to."

"She will know her place. She needs the security you can give her, and she'll be grateful for it."

"I have no desire to give her anything."

"Your Highness, Brandenburg wants this marriage and we want Brandenburg."

John George scowled. He knew what they wanted. They wanted to separate him from Magdalen. Well, they were not going to. He missed her now. There was no one like her. They could offer him other women but they couldn't satisfy him for more than an hour. He went back and back again to Magdalen. He thought of her constantly. Other women were only proxy for Magdalen. He even thought of her when making love to others. And they were offering him this dessicated widow for a wife!

State reasons! There was certainly no other reason why he would take such a creature to his bed.

The argument went on. He knew they would wear him down in the end. Ministers had great power over their rulers; and according to them Saxony needed the friendship of Brandenburg. He was prepared to let them apply themselves to matters of state if they left him in peace to apply himself to Magdalen. He smiled, remembering her. She was insatiable, that woman—and so was he. That was why they were so well matched.

The argument continued.

Nervously, Eleanor, the widowed Margravine of Ansbach, awaited her suitor. Her large blue eyes showed clearly her apprehension and now and then she would lift a hand to smooth her plentiful auburn hair. She had been considered beautiful in her youth and she was not old now; she had the buxom looks so admired in Germany and her first husband had appreciated her charms. But that was some years ago; and since then she had borne two children.

She was very fearful of the future. When her husband, the Margrave, had died the peaceful life was ended; it had not been an exciting existence, but she had never been one to look for adventure; she had been well satisfied with her marriage and would have been contented to spend the rest of her days in the grand old palace which had delighted her from the moment she saw it.