Read Online The Princess of Celle: (Georgian Series) by Jean Plaidy - Free Book Online
Authors: Jean Plaidy
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marriage how joyfully she would have accepted. But how could the proud daughter of a proud house agree to become a mistress?
The Princesse de Tarente watched the lovers with interest. So charming she said, in a blasé world. She was certain that in time Eléonore would relent.
She told George William so and that if he offered a morganatic marriage it might help to persuade Eléonore.
‘Alas, she has had a strict upbringing and it has always been impressed on her that she must never live with any man without marriage.’
‘I have been a fool,’ cried George William. ‘If I had not made the contract with my brother how happily would I marry her. Nothing but my declaration of renunciation holds me back. I know that I want to live with Eléonore for the rest of my life, and I shall never want any other woman. She will be sufficient to me. My dear Princess, I cannot describe to you how much I have changed. I am a different man. Had I known it was possible to feel this passion, this tenderness, this desire for a tranquil life with one woman I should never have been such a fool as to sign that contract. I know now why I refused Sophia. I must have been secretly conscious that Eléonore was waiting for me.’
‘So charming!’ sighed the Princess. ‘So romantic! You have promised settlements that would accompany a proper marriage … you have offered a morganatic marriage … you can do no more. I am certain that Eléonore loves you.’
‘Are you?’ he cried rapturously.
‘My dear George William, how delightful it is to be in love! Oh yes, she adores you. She would make you a wonderful wife and you would be the best husband in the world. You have learned the emptiness of mere passion, the dissatisfaction which must follow lust. You are in love, and it is quite beautiful. I believe you will win in time. I will give a ball for you both which will, in a way, set a seal on your relationship. When she knows how much all of us in Breda are with our dear romantic lovers, she may relent, for she longs to, I do assure you. Oh,how she longs to! She cannot deceive me. She is as much in love with you as you are with her.’
He kissed the Princess’s hands with fervour. She was his very dear friend. If he were not so wholeheartedly in love with his Eléonore he would doubtless be in love with her.
‘No more compliments of that nature, my dear,’ reproved the Princess. ‘They might reach Eléonore’s ears, and then she would think she was right after all – fascinating as you are – to hold out against you.’
But he was grateful, he assured her. He would be grateful to the end of his days.
It was a glittering ball and the guests of honour were Duke George William and Mademoiselle Eléonore d’Olbreuse.
They danced together; they talked together; and made no secret of their pleasure in each other’s company.
During the evening the Princess called them to her and told them that it made her very happy to give this ball in their honour.
‘I want you to know, my dearest demoiselle d’honneur, that all of us in Breda wish you well. I want you to take this as a memento of this happy evening.’
She put a medallion into Eléonore’s hands – a picture of George William set with diamonds.
‘What can I say?’ cried Eléonore, deeply moved.
‘Say what you have to say to him, my child. And that will best please me.’
She left them together and George William drew her to an alcove in the ballroom as he had on the first night they had met.
‘You see,’ he said, ‘you must say yes now. It is the wish of everyone that you do.’
‘I want to,’ she told him, ‘but …’
‘I promise you you will never regret this step, my dearest.’
‘I do not believe I should, but I should never be your wife and …’
‘There should be a marriage.’
‘Not legal, not binding.’
‘It should be binding in every way.’
‘And our children, what of them? I could not bring illegitimate children into the
The Princesse de Tarente watched the lovers with interest. So charming she said, in a blasé world. She was certain that in time Eléonore would relent.
She told George William so and that if he offered a morganatic marriage it might help to persuade Eléonore.
‘Alas, she has had a strict upbringing and it has always been impressed on her that she must never live with any man without marriage.’
‘I have been a fool,’ cried George William. ‘If I had not made the contract with my brother how happily would I marry her. Nothing but my declaration of renunciation holds me back. I know that I want to live with Eléonore for the rest of my life, and I shall never want any other woman. She will be sufficient to me. My dear Princess, I cannot describe to you how much I have changed. I am a different man. Had I known it was possible to feel this passion, this tenderness, this desire for a tranquil life with one woman I should never have been such a fool as to sign that contract. I know now why I refused Sophia. I must have been secretly conscious that Eléonore was waiting for me.’
‘So charming!’ sighed the Princess. ‘So romantic! You have promised settlements that would accompany a proper marriage … you have offered a morganatic marriage … you can do no more. I am certain that Eléonore loves you.’
‘Are you?’ he cried rapturously.
‘My dear George William, how delightful it is to be in love! Oh yes, she adores you. She would make you a wonderful wife and you would be the best husband in the world. You have learned the emptiness of mere passion, the dissatisfaction which must follow lust. You are in love, and it is quite beautiful. I believe you will win in time. I will give a ball for you both which will, in a way, set a seal on your relationship. When she knows how much all of us in Breda are with our dear romantic lovers, she may relent, for she longs to, I do assure you. Oh,how she longs to! She cannot deceive me. She is as much in love with you as you are with her.’
He kissed the Princess’s hands with fervour. She was his very dear friend. If he were not so wholeheartedly in love with his Eléonore he would doubtless be in love with her.
‘No more compliments of that nature, my dear,’ reproved the Princess. ‘They might reach Eléonore’s ears, and then she would think she was right after all – fascinating as you are – to hold out against you.’
But he was grateful, he assured her. He would be grateful to the end of his days.
It was a glittering ball and the guests of honour were Duke George William and Mademoiselle Eléonore d’Olbreuse.
They danced together; they talked together; and made no secret of their pleasure in each other’s company.
During the evening the Princess called them to her and told them that it made her very happy to give this ball in their honour.
‘I want you to know, my dearest demoiselle d’honneur, that all of us in Breda wish you well. I want you to take this as a memento of this happy evening.’
She put a medallion into Eléonore’s hands – a picture of George William set with diamonds.
‘What can I say?’ cried Eléonore, deeply moved.
‘Say what you have to say to him, my child. And that will best please me.’
She left them together and George William drew her to an alcove in the ballroom as he had on the first night they had met.
‘You see,’ he said, ‘you must say yes now. It is the wish of everyone that you do.’
‘I want to,’ she told him, ‘but …’
‘I promise you you will never regret this step, my dearest.’
‘I do not believe I should, but I should never be your wife and …’
‘There should be a marriage.’
‘Not legal, not binding.’
‘It should be binding in every way.’
‘And our children, what of them? I could not bring illegitimate children into the
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