"Well, you're the last one to be surprised at that! " retorted Sophia Dorothea. "And it's no use anyone's saying I'm not to have Frederick William because I've decided that I am ... and so has he."

"He told you this?"

"He said he would make life unbearable for everyone until consent was given to our marriage."

"There's a bold lover for you! "

"The only sort of lover I would have." Sophia Dorothea was serious suddenly. "George Augustus, I wonder what our mother feels about this."

"Feels? What should she feel?"

"Can't you put yourself in her place. Her son, her first born, is about to be married and she is shut away and not allowed to join in and be happy with the rest of us."

George Augustus was silent; his mouth turned down angrily. "I hate our father for what he did to our mother."

"You hate him for a lot of other things besides," Sophia Dorothea reminded him. "Grandfather Celle is on his way, did you know? He is coming to congratulate you and say how happy he is. But I don't think he's very happy. I don't think he was happy from the day he allowed our father to marry our mother. We're lucky to choose our partners ... or more or less choose them. Fancy being presented with our father and told you had to marry him! No wonder our mother was unhappy; no wonder it made Grandmother Celle turn away from Grandfather Celle and never love him again in quite the same way."

George Augustus was thinking of his childhood. He remembered his mother more clearly than Sophia Dorothea. He could still recall the fear when she had disappeared; and how he had once tried to rescue her.

"I shall always hate our father" he said. "Even though he didn't try to force me into marriage I'll always hate him."

Sophia Dorothea nodded. "Marriage!" she said. "They all dance and make merry and congratulate. But is it a matter of congratulation?"

"Mine will be."

"Of course. George Augustus and Caroline are going to live in harmony for ever after."

"Why shouldn't they?"

"Because no one ever does. All you can hope for is a compromise like Grandmother Hanover had. She was Queen of the household because she never interfered with Grandfather Hanover's mistresses."

"Caroline will never interfere with mine."

"Oh, won't she? I shall not allow my husband to have any."

"You think any husband would allow that?"

"Mine will."

"You have strange ideas of marriage."

"Perhaps Caroline shares them."

"Caroline!" George Augustus smiled dreamily into the future. "She is very beautiful, sister. And she is docile. She is quiet when I wish to speak; she is a little sad; and she will be grateful to me for ever because I married her."

"Yours is certain to be a happy marriage," said Sophia Dorothea scornfully. "Grandmother Celle has gone to Ahlden. She will not come here because she hates our Father. She has never forgiven him for what he did to our mother. I saw Fraulein von Knesebeck once. She loved our mother and suffered with her and she told me. She said that she never saw a pair of lovers like Grandmother Celle and Grandfather Celle. He lived for her until our mother married our father and then they quarrelled, because Grandmother was against the match and he for it, and when the tragedy happened she blamed him and never loved him again. All her love was for our mother. Isn't that sad, George Augustus? Doesn't it make you hesitate when you think about marriage?"

"My marriage will be different. We shall not quarrel. Caroline will understand me,"

"Frederick William does not understand me ... but it will be fun learning about him ... and for him to learn about me. I don't think I ask as much from marriage as you do. You want a wife who is a sort of exalted slave, to give way to all your whims, to look up to you as a god. Oh, George Augustus, you have to grow up."

"Listen to who's talking! I believe you're comparing me with our father."

"I wouldn't compare anyone with him. Do you know our mother wanted to write to you. She wanted to say how happy she is that you are going to be married and she wanted to wish you joy. But Father wouldn't let her."

"He is a monster. I shall always hate him. I shall always be kind to Caroline."

"So good of you." Sophia Dorothea laughed lightly. "Let us hope that she will be as good to you as you are to her."

George Augustus narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Wait and see. Wait till five years ... ten years Just wait and see."

With that she decided she had had enough talk of marriage. She was tired of looking at George Augustus strutting in his new clothes. She would go and see about lier own.

About eight weeks after Baron von Eltz had made the Electoral Prince's proposal, Caroline, with her brother, set out for Hanover.

Caroline was a little nervous. She had made a complete break with the old life and was now ready for the new. She had determined that her marriage would be a success and that she would fmd a tolerable life at Hanover—though not to be compared with that which she had known at Lutzenburg, for what could compare with the companionship of Sophia Charlotte?

As they left the hills of Ansbach behind them and their coach carried them towards the northern plains Caroline was thinking of the letters George Augustus had written her when he knew that she had consented to become his wife.

"I owe you every imaginable obligation for permitting me the greatest happiness that I desire in my life ... I hope to show you my inviolable respect and eternal affection "

"The time of your departure seems infinitely distant and I count every day and hour until its arrival..."

"I desire nothing so much as to throw myself at my Princess's feet and promise her eternal devotion. You alone can make me happy. But I shall not be entirely convinced of my happiness until I have the satisfaction of testifying to the excess of my fondness and love for you."

The words of a lover, but a man whom she had seen only during one short visit. Still, happiness ... or at least satisfaction ... was apparent in everything he wrote to her. She was not a romantic girl. Life with Sophia Charlotte and her own mother's tragic story had taught her realism. Marriage with this ardent dapper little man would no doubt be a compromise and she was ready for it.

As she listened to the sound of the coach on the road she believed she had been wise to come.

She needed a new life.

Now she was on the threshold of it.

At a village outside Hanover Caroline made the acquaintance of her father-in-law.

It was not a very reassuring encounter and had she not been warned of the man she must expect she would have been depressed. Certainly she would have been surprised had she known that George Lewis was being unusually gracious.

He actually muttered that he was pleased to see her and was glad she was marrying his son.

Dour, having no love for ceremonies, he cut short the interview as quickly as possible, but left her with the impression that he was looking her over to assess what sort of a breeder she would be. She then began to have qualms as to the difficulties of settling into a household of which this man was the head.

Her brother consoled her. George Lewis was a just man; he ruled Hanover well; and it was clear that in spite of his curt manners he was delighted with the match.

Caroline was glad when he returned to Hanover and left her for the last evening alone with her brother.

Just before Caroline made her entry into Hanover the Duke of Celle caught a chill when hunting and died. This cast a gloom over everything—not so much because a member of the family had died, but because it brought an inevitable reminder of the Elector's wife. It was scarcely a pretty rumour to be in circulation at the time of a wedding.

However George Lewis decreed that the period of mourning should be very short in the circumstances.

The coach containing Caroline and her brother entered the main courtyard of the Leine Schloss. The trumpets immediately sounded their welcome and the soldiers formed to make a guard of honour. Standing waiting to receive the bride, was the entire Electoral family headed by the Elector and on one side of him his son and on the other his mother.

George Augustus's eyes were shining with pleasure and happiness; George Lewis's were grimly content. And the Electress Sophia was saying to herself: This is the happiest moment since my dearest daughter died.

"Welcome ... welcome to Hanover." That was the theme of the day.

But it was the Electress Sophia who, with an unusual show of emotion, embraced Caroline and held her in her arms, and whispered: "Welcome home, my dear."

That evening a large company assembled in the palace church to celebrate the marriage of George Augustus, Electoral Prince of Hanover and Caroline, Princess of Ansbach.

The Court at Hanover

During the first weeks of the marriage Caroline was happier than she had believed possible. George Augustus was an attentive husband and being in love was a delightful adventure which appealed to him. Caroline was beautiful; she had grace and charm; she was much admired. George Augustus never tired of reminding people that she had refused the Archduke of Spain to marry him.

"They were made for each other," said the Empress Sophia. "And she will be the making of George Augustus."

George Augustus strutted about the Court; all he needed was a son—with other children to follow, of course—and a brilliant record in the army. As yet he had only taken the first step.

Caroline basked in his affection; they were constantly together; he delighted in showing her the pleasures of Hanover; she found the court a little vulgar but she gave no hint of this; instead she planned to change it when she became Electress; then she would endeavour to make Hanover another Charlottenburg. Leibniz was already here; she would invite other philosophers.

It was a pleasure to ride through the streets of Hanover to the cheers of the people. They were particularly friendly towards her and the Electoral Prince—doubtless, she thought, because for all his qualities as a ruler, George Lewis would never inspire any affection in his people.

She thought Herrenhausen delightful—mainly for its gardens; she liked the little Alte Palais; but the Leine Schloss was a little gloomy—haunted, she thought, by the shadow of a tragedy.

George Augustus, when showing it to her pointed out the Ritter Hall, the place where it was believed Konigsmarck had been murdered.

"There is one member of the family whom you will not meet," he told her. "My mother."

"Isn't it possible?"

George Augustus narrowed his eyes and his face grew red with emotion. "He will not allow it. I am not allowed to see her. She can't even write to me. I tell you this, Caroline. I shall not always allow him to have his way."

"Perhaps if you explained your point of view."

"Explain to my father! You don't know him yet, Caroline. Wait until you do."

"I believe you hate him."

"Of course I hate him. Everybody hates him except his women and I expect they only tolerate him for what they get. You'll hate him too."

"I hope not."

George Augustus turned his red face to her. "You'll hate him, Caroline, because I do."

She smiled. "But we don't have to hate the same people do we?"

"Those who love me hate my father."

It was almost a command.

As she looked at his flushed face and saw the purpose in his eyes she felt the first twinges of uneasiness.

George Lewis decided that she should receive an income of nine hundred and fifty pounds a year, and summoned her and George Augustus to his presence to explain this to them.

It did not seem a very princely sum to Caroline and she looked dismayed.

"It will be adequate/' said George Lewis. "I shall pay your servants and they will be answerable to me."

"To you?" Caroline had spoken without thinking. George Lewis scowled and she hurried on: "That would put an unnecessary burden on Your Highness."

"They will be answerable to me," repeated George Lewis. He turned to his son. "You'll provide your wife with a carriage and horses and you must set aside two thousand pounds a year to be hers should she be left a widow."

Caroline gasped in dismay but George Lewis threw her a contemptuous look. Women were fools about money, he thought. She thought it was bad taste to refer to her husband's death. She'd thank his foresight if George Augustus died and left her poor.