Occasionally there were meetings and it was the delight of Confidante Knesebeck at the palace and Aurora Königsmarck in her brother’s mansion to put their heads together and arrange trysts for the lovers.

Sophia Dorothea spent her time between her children and her lover and it was true that never had she been so happy. Her beauty blossomed and Eléonore von Knesebeck declared that her very looks would betray her if she did not take care.

Life had become gay, colourful, touched with delicious intrigue.

The fact that meetings were so difficult to arrange made them all the more exciting when they took place. Königsmarck congratulated himself on having a place in the Guards which meant that he was often in the gardens on duty. How simple for Sophia Dorothea out for a walk with Eléonore or with the children to pass by. Then they could feast their eyes on each other and even though she could do no more than smile and he salute her, their day was made.

The children looked for him; they would point him out to her and he made a special point of saluting them. Young George Augustus would salute in return, standing very straight like a soldier, and little Sophia Dorothea would attempt to do the same.

Sophia Dorothea was walking in the gardens one day with her little daughter, Sophia Dorothea on the alert for a glimpse of her lover and had not realized how far they had walked, when the child began to whimper that she was tired and couldn’t climb all the steps to the apartment in the palace.

Sophia Dorothea laughed and caught the little girl up in her arms.

There were attendants who could have carried the child, but Sophia Dorothea did not ask them to do so; and as she was about to mount the stairs a shadow fell across the sunlight and a hand was laid on her arm.

‘The child is too heavy for Your Highness.’

The sound of that voice thrilled her; she turned, a radiant smile on her lips.

Their hands touched as he took the child, who gazed at him in wonder and attempted to make the salute.

Königsmarck carried the little Princess up the stairs with her mother leading the way, as though, her attendants told each other afterwards, they were an ordinary couple returning home together. It was an extraordinary way to behave and a complete flouting of etiquette; but then the Crown Princess had never had much respect for the Hanoverian customs, having been brought up in free and easy Celle.

Königsmarck was putting the child down when Clara on her way to the gardens where she knew he would be on duty came into sight.

She saw in a moment what was happening. Königsmarck carrying the child from the gardens; Sophia Dorothea flushed and excited; she heard her say: ‘But that was good of you, my dear Count.’ My dear Count! So that was it. Could it possibly be that she had dared to become his mistress!

Clara was beside them. She bowed coolly to Sophia Dorothea who, with something like insolence – thought Clara – acknowledged the greeting. Königsmarck bowed low to her and Clara passed on; under her rouge she was white with rage. So this was why he did not come to her now. It was for Sophia Dorothea that he had abandoned her.

Clara came into Ernest Augustus’s aparment where he was resting. He was growing old, thought Clara; and although his gout was improved a little he was not the man he had been.

She was fortunate to have kept her hold on him; and this she had done partly by her forceful and magnetic personality, partly by seeing that her husband had risen in importance so that they were a team who could not easily be dismissed; she had also been wise in keeping her hold on political affairs, for instance the matter of Bernstorff who was so useful to them in Celle. Foreign envoys knew that they had to placate Clara von Platen if they wished to be well received at Hanover. Yes, she had been wise, but she must not cease to be; she knew Ernest Augustus well and that if he decided to push her aside, he would do so however important she had become.

At this moment she forgot to be cautious. Her feelings for Königsmarck made her forget everything else. She cried: ‘Your daughter-in-law conducts herself in a very unseemly way.’

‘Do you think so? I have always found her gracious. Those French manners of hers are welcome at Hanover. It does us good to remind us now and then that we are not always as courteous as we should be.’

‘Gracious! I wish you could have seen her romping with one of your guards.’

‘Romping with a guard! Impossible.’

‘Not impossible … the guard is young and handsome enough.’

‘Sophia Dorothea! She’s a model of virtue, though sometimes I wonder why, poor girl. That reminds me, George Lewis will soon be home from Flanders.’

‘And not before he was needed here. Your daughter-in-law takes advantage of his absence …’

‘Who wouldn’t? And when he comes back he’ll be with Schulenburg, I’ll swear. Poor Sophia Dorothea, hers is not a very happy existence.’

‘You are foolish about that girl.’

Ernest Augustus looked at her coldly. There were times when Clara went too far. She saw it, and going to him laid a hand on his shoulder and put her face against his cheek.

‘You are too kind to women,’ she added indulgently.

‘Are you complaining?’

She laughed aloud. ‘When have you heard me complain?’

She was thinking quickly: ‘It is no use talking to him. He will do nothing. And if I protest he’ll think I’m jealous, jealous on account of Königsmarck. There will have been gossip and if he were to discover, who knows …? Well, there have been others and he knows, but one could never be sure. People could become jealous suddenly. Königsmarck was young and handsome, everything a man should be. It might be that Ernest Augustus might be jealous – not of Clara – but of another man’s youth and vigour.

Caution. Sophia Dorothea must be humiliated, separated from Königsmarck – but at the same time Königsmarck must not be banished.

She must take great care.

George Lewis returned from Flanders and for a while Sophia Dorothea was terrified that he might wish to resume married life with her. She need not have feared. He turned at once to Ermengarda von Schulenburg who had been patiently waiting for him. He seemed to delight in her more than ever; she was ideally suited to him – placid, voluptuous, undemanding, adoring. With such a woman he was in no mood to make demands on Sophia Dorothea.

Clara had hoped that with his return he would put an end to the intrigue – if intrigue there was – between Königsmarck and Sophia Dorothea. She had set her agents to spy on them but they had discovered nothing, for the two watch-dogs – Eléonore von Knesebeck and Aurora Königsmarck – did their work well.

But Clara was growing more and more obsessed by Königsmarck. The fact that he was at Hanover and she was unable to make love with him infuriated her. She hated Sophia Dorothea; she was not sure whether she did not hate Königsmarck. There were times when her feelings wavered between a passionate desire to caress him and an equally fierce one to kill him.

Every day she had to keep herself in check, while she watched and tried to plan.

Ernest Augustus left for The Hague – and Königsmarck accompanied him – to meet William of Orange who was now King of England and one of the leaders of the war in Europe. There was a gathering of the allies that the policy of the war might be discussed. George William of Celle had hoped to go with his brother but illness prevented him, and Sophia Dorothea took an opportunity to go to Celle with her children.

The conference was not a success in spite of all the dignitaries assembled and the brilliant entertainment which had been devised for them, for during it Louis took Mons, which was such a shattering blow that the conference was disbanded at once. While William of Orange returned to England, Ernest Augustus, the Duke of Wolfenbüttel and those who had been making merry while they made plans at The Hague returned somewhat discomfited to their various estates.

Louis was quick to seize an advantage, and knowing how the Duke of Hanover loved money sent an envoy to his court to see if he could be bribed to abandon William and become the ally of France. Clara was kept busy, for naturally the French ambassador had had his orders to approach Ernest Augustus through Clara von Platen. She entertained the Frenchman at Monplaisir and graciously agreed to accept his presents.

When the Duchess of Sophia heard that the French were trying to turn Hanover against England she was angry; she immediately promised the English ambassador her aid and no bribes were needed for her. She would support England no matter what happened; and she thought Ernest Augustus a fool to forget that the English throne could easily be lost for the sake of a French bribe.

Sophia Dorothea found herself drawn into the intrigue. She was naturally attracted by the French at Hanover, because she was able to talk to them in their own language and she liked their manners. George Lewis on the other hand had a great admiration for William of Orange.

Thus there were divided opinions at Hanover and Ernest Augustus wavered. If the Emperor Leopold had presented him with the promised Electorate it would have made all the difference; but it still seemed as far away as ever; this was his real grievance.

Königsmarck had not returned with Ernest Augustus and each day Sophia Dorothea looked for him. It was Eléonore von Knesebeck who learned what was happening and when she did she was so stunned that she did not know how to break the news to her mistress. But Sophia Dorothea, who knew her Confidante well, guessed that something was wrong and fearing that it concerned her lover demanded to know what she had discovered.

‘He will come back,’ cried Knesebeck. ‘I know he will.’

‘Please tell immediately what you know.’

‘William of Orange took a fancy to him and has offered him a high command in his army.’

‘You mean … he is not coming back …’ stammered Sophia Dorothea.

‘The King of England is very powerful; he needs good soldiers like the Count. You must remember that he is a soldier – and what good can come of this? One day you will be discovered and then what would happen do you think? It would be terrible …’

‘Be silent, Knesebeck!’ cried Sophia Dorothea and she ran from the room to her bedchamber where she shut herself in and refused to see anyone.

There was a scratching at the door. Sophia Dorothea did not answer, so Eléonore von Knesebeck came in.

‘Hurry,’ she cried. ‘How dishevelled you are! Here, let me comb your hair. There is someone to see you.’

Sophia Dorothea looked at her maid’s face with incredulous hope. Eléonore von Knesebeck was dimpling, her eyes shining. ‘Quickly! Quickly! There’s no time to lose. He’s outside. I see you don’t believe me. He must come in quickly before he is seen. Come in, my lord Count.’

Königsmarck strode into the room and Eléonore von Knesebeck stood aside smiling at the long embrace.

‘They said you had gone away with the King of England,’ murmured Sophia Dorothea.

‘Did you really think I would leave you?’

‘I feared … oh how I feared!’

‘No need to fear. I shall never leave you.’

‘Never … never …’ sobbed Sophia Dorothea.

Eléonore von Knesebeck tiptoed out and left them together.

‘Königsmarck is back!’ said Ernest Augustus with a laugh. ‘He didn’t want to leave us after all.’

‘The man’s a fool. He’d have more opportunities with the English army.’ Clara’s lips were tight. When she had heard he was not coming back she had been almost glad. It was one way of ridding herself of him. Now here he was, and every time she saw him he seemed more attractive, more desirable; and the desire which was torment, if unsatisfied, was stronger than ever.

‘Well he toyed with the idea. He’ll have his reasons for rejecting William’s offers I don’t doubt. And to celebrate his return he is giving a grand ball. We must attend, Clara. It is only gracious. He has chosen us in place of Orange; we should at least show our gratitude for that.’

‘The Crown Prince and Princess have accepted?’

‘I am sure they have; if not I shall tell them that they must.’

‘I don’t think they will need much persuasion,’ retorted Clara.

A ball, she was thinking; a masked ball doubtless; and there would be opportunities for a little dalliance in the gardens between the host and his principal guest – at least the principal guest in his eyes.