Ernest Augustus seemed really fond of his daughter-in-law and George Lewis was strutting with pride in his new importance.

George William was delighted with this state of affairs and his affectionate eyes constantly informed his wife: I told you so.

The christening was a splendid occasion and it seemed a happy choice that the new baby should be christened George Augustus, after George William and Ernest Augustus – his two grandfathers.

The Duchess Eléonore remained with her daughter until after the christening and, before she left, a visit to Celle had been arranged.

Ernest Augustus was surprised when one of his servants asked permission to put a paper into his hands. This was not the channel through which documents usually reached him, and before he touched it he asked whence it had come.

‘It was given to one of the servants by a poor woman, Your Highness. She said you would remember her and help her if you knew of her plight.’

‘I’ll look at it some time.’

When he opened the letter he found that it was from a woman who had once been a servant of Clara’s. He could scarcely remember what she looked like, but his memory was faintly stirred. He had seen her in Clara’s garden at Monplaisir once and spoken to her. Yes, he had had plans for her, for she had been a pretty creature. Then Clara had come out and found them together. Very vaguely he remembered.

So Clara had dismissed the girl from her service because of this; moreover she had imprisoned her for a while and later had her drummed out of Hanover. Rather drastic treatment for a little speculative conversation. What was the matter with Clara? She had never before minded a little waywardness because she knew he was well aware that there was not another woman like her in Hanover – possibly not in the world. However, she had treated this girl rather badly. He wondered why? Was there something very special about her?

He considered the plea. She was crying for help. She was penniless; at the moment she was working as a drudge in a farmhouse. Would he give her permission to return to Hanover and perhaps find her some humble position in the palace?

He considered.

She must have been pretty or he would not have noticed her in the first place but try as he might he could not remember what she looked like. There were many attactive girls at hand – and what would Clara say if he brought this one back? There would be trouble.

He had no desire for trouble – nor for a girl whose face he couldn’t remember.

He made up his mind; she should have a small gift of money.

This he arranged to be sent to her with a warning that she would be wise not to return to Hanover.

After the birth of the baby George Lewis grew closer to his wife. The child was a bond between them; they were both so proud of him. Ernest Augustus, too, was a frequent visitor to the nursery; and when he found his daughter-in-law there he would stop and chat to her about the child’s future.

He was growing more and more fond of her. Her beauty was so appealing. His wife could rant as much as she liked about ‘that of piece of dirt’ as she called the Duchess Eléonore, but George William’s wife knew how to bring up a girl and, moreover, this one had inherited her mother’s beauty. As a connoisseur of female charms Ernest Augustus could not fail to be impressed by those of Sophia Dorothea; and the fact that his relationship to her put her out of range of amatory adventure enhanced rather than diminished his admiration.

The growing respect and affection the Duke had for his daughter-in-law was noticed – and of course Clara was aware of it.

In her daily milk baths, at her dressing table, she considered her own charms and the fear that they were diminishing did not increase her good temper; she made vicious plans for the downfall of Sophia Dorothea but was unable to put them into practice. The most infuriating aspect of the situation was not so much Ernest Augustus’s regard for the girl but George Lewis’s, and her inability to bring Marie back to court. If she could have provided George Lewis with a mistress whom she could have commanded, Sophia Dorothea could be so humiliated that she would be running back to Celle to Maman in a very short time.

But George Lewis remained the almost faithful husband whose minor infidelities were of no importance; and with each day Ernest Augustus grew more fond of his charming daughter-in-law. She had heard though that the Ilse creature had written to him and although he had given her some small gift he had advised her not to come to Hanover. A victory, though a small one. But enough to show her that Ernest Augustus still had some regard for her, and if she were careful she could continue to hold her place. But she must be careful.

She had done her best to poison the mind of Sophia Charlotte, George Lewis’s only sister, against Sophia Dorothea. It had not been difficult, for it was as galling for a young girl as for a woman to see herself continually compared with another to her own disadvantage. Sophia Charlotte had been prepared to be quite unpleasant to her sister-in-law since she had become so jealous of her. Sophia Dorothea, who was very impulsive, Clara noted with glee, had shown quite clearly that she disliked her sister-in-law; and the animosity between them grew.

Another enemy, thought Clara. Very soon I shall bring Marie back and then we shall see. One by one they shall turn against her and then she will commit some indiscretion – for she is indiscreet. That was easy enough to see.

But then Sophia Charlotte was married to the Elector of Brandenburg – a brilliant marriage which delighted her parents more than it did Sophia Charlotte; and that meant that after the brilliant festivities she left Hanover.

One enemy the less. George Lewis went away to the army and a new pattern was set at Hanover. Sophia Dorothea spent a great deal of time with her son, living quietly, occasionally visiting Celle or receiving her parents in her home.

Ernest Augustus, who had always loved to travel, and since the marriage with Celle when he had command of Sophia Dorothea’s large fortune was able to do so, decided that he would like to visit Italy again. The Duchess Sophia was perfectly capable of governing in his absence; and she was very pleased to have the opportunity.

So Ernest Augustus left Hanover for Venice, accompanied by the Platens and other friends and a few ministers, while the Duchess Sophia remained behind at Herrenhausen to govern from there. Sophia Dorothea reigned supreme in the Alte Palais or, when she gave entertainments, in the Leine Schloss. Visits to Celle were more frequent than ever; and life was very tolerable indeed.

Sophia Dorothea was in her apartments one day writing to her mother when Eléonore von Knesebeck ran into the room to tell her that messengers from Venice had arrived.

‘Well,’ said Sophia Dorothea placidly, ‘I doubt that will concern us.’

‘I believe some high personage is among them.’

‘Who?’ asked Sophia Dorothea anxiously.

‘Not the Duke … nor the Platen woman. You can be sure one would not be here without the other.’

‘The Duchess is receiving them?’

‘Yes, but she will expect you to put in an appearance.’

At that moment there was scratching at the door and one of the pages announced that General and Madame Ilten had arrived at Hanover from Venice and the Duchess Sophia knew that the Crown Princess would wish to welcome them.

‘Well,’ said Sophia Dorothea, when the page had left, ‘now perhaps we shall have a little gaiety in the Leine Schloss or even at Herrenhausen.’

And she went down to greet the General and his lady.

When she heard what news they brought she was at first astonished and then delighted.

Duke Ernest Augustus thought that she must be feeling a little lonely at Hanover with so much of the court absent and that she must be in need of a little holiday. He wished her to prepare at once to leave Hanover in the company of the General and his wife and come to Italy where he would be most happy to see her. There was another reason why he wished her to be there: George Lewis had arrived from the army and would naturally be eager to see his wife.

She had never before been very far from Celle or Hanover, and the prospect of visiting a foreign city and one reputed to be as beautiful and romantic as Venice was exciting.

She turned and hugged Eléonore von Knesebeck. ‘What are you looking so glum about? Of course you’ll come with me!’

She threw herself into a fever of preparation. The dresses she would need! The jewels!

But after the first excitement had worn off a little she thought of the less pleasant side of this adventure. She would leave her baby in Hanover, she would be far from her mother, and there would be reunion with George Lewis; she remembered it was almost a year since she had last seen him.

Sophia Dorothea was discovering herself as well as Venice. She was meant to be gay. How different was this city – a group of islands rising from the sea – compared with Hanover. The weather was clement; every day she awoke to see the sun bathing the buildings in a golden light – usually at midday, for she retired late after the balls and banquets which her father-in-law gave in his palazzo on the Grand Canal.

How excited she was by all the exotic sights! She would gaze in rapture at the marble palaces on the water’s edge, at the gondolas gliding past on the Grand Canal, at the Rialto where on more than one occasion, masked and wrapped in a concealing cloak, she and Eléonore von Knesebeck had wandered together.

Ernest Augustus was delighted with her excitement.

‘My dear,’ he said, ‘I feel I am seeing it for the first time through fresh young eyes. I did not know how jaded I had become.’

He would have her with him as much as possible – his honoured little guest.

Clara was watching carefully. She would soon have to take action against Madame Sophia Dorothea. She had been enjoying Venice until the girl had come, for Venice was a city for adventure. She had had her Venetian lovers and would have others. Each day brought new promise of excitement; and now here was this girl to delight Ernest Augustus with her naïve pleasure in foreign places!

She gleefully noticed that the resumed relationship between husband and wife was an uneasy one. It had never been one of passionate devotion, certainly, rather of compromise – and now they were both a little older (Sophia Dorothea must be nineteen) and compromise was not good enough. George Lewis had returned from the army where doubtless he had indulged in many a ribald adventure and was even more coarse than when he had been away; as for Sophia Dorothea she had had a year free from his unwanted embraces and was showing even less inclination for them than before. She had not become less fastidious – but more so.

George Lewis often looked sullen when his eyes rested on his wife. She was undoubtedly lovely, but he was unappreciative of her sort of beauty. The beautiful paintings in the palaces here and the architecture meant little to him. They were just pictures and buildings; and the charm of the Piazza San Marco was solely the opportunity of finding a willing woman there.

Sophia Dorothea was different. What could be expected of one brought up by the cultured Duchess of Celle? She was deeply aware of the beauty of Venice, but at the same time she was willing to throw herself, with all her newly awakened youthful zest, into the enjoyment of a life hitherto unknown to her.

The carnival was in full progress. Sophia Dorothea blossomed in the thrill of it all. Ernest Augustus bought her a Venetian gown and Venetian jewels because he wanted everyone to appreciate the beauty of his daughter-in-law. Why not, thought Clara, it was her money he was spending, though no one would have thought it, so magnanimously did he bestow his gifts, so charmingly and gratefully did Sophia Dorothea receive them.

Clara observed that Sophia Dorothea was something of a coquette. And why not? The Venetians were well versed in the arts of flattery – something of which George Lewis had never heard. This intricate preamble of flirtation and invitation was unknown to him, and Sophia Dorothea would naturally find it as exciting as all the novelties she was experiencing.

Perhaps, mused Clara, it would be possible to bring about the downfall of Sophia Dorothea through a lover.

While she was pondering this George Lewis had to leave for Naples and Ernest Augustus decided that before he himself returned to Hanover, which state matters demanded he should before long, he would like to show his daughter-in-law Rome.