Freddie walked slowly away from the Frauenkirche, his head bemused and full of questions. Why was the legendary count of St-Germain haunting his steps? What business did he have with Sebastienne Wollherz? There was only one way to find answers, and that was to carry out his original intention and make his visit to her house. But the door was denied him. The servant was very respectful but firm that the baroness was not receiving that day. He would however take in Freddie’s card. Freddie had to hope that Sebastienne would send round a note in reply. But no note came until Saturday, the sixth of June, and when it did it left him even more confused. It was a farewell.
Sebastienne Wollherz von Stock was departing for Strelsau immediately on pressing business and regretted that she must take her leave without meeting Freddie, which very much saddened her. Unfortunately she was unable to say when she would return to Munich but she would write at the first chance she had. The letter was by no means cold, yet to Freddie it still felt like a rejection. He was hurt and, he had to admit, sexually frustrated, which left him wondering what precisely it was he had valued in his liaisons with Sebastienne.
It was in fact Bastian who was first to communicate. His letter to his plus cher Freddie was everything its recipient could have hoped for, but had little to say about Sebastienne’s arrival in Strelsau other than to register his surprise that it had happened. When last the twins had talked, she had said she was planning to spend the summer either in Munich or in the family’s country villa out at Neuhausen.
An affectionate note from Sebastienne followed on the heels of her brother’s letter. It had some amusing things to say about her parents’ reaction to the second of their offspring returning to the nest, but was cagy on the subject of her future plans. And that was the last he heard from her for some time. His weekly bulletins from Bastian in Strelsau however told him that Bessie had taken up a senior role in the new household of Princess Osra Madeleine, as her mistress of the robes. ‘Which is ironic,’ commented Bastian, ‘as Bessie really knows more about male apparel than female, in my opinion. Frankly, my judgement is superior to hers on the subject.’
***
And so the year 1772 passed by, enlivened after the heat of summer by Lord Burlesdon’s tour of princely courts in the south of the Empire. He was accredited to the imperial Diet, the ancient forum between the emperor, the princes, the Church and the free cities. So he proposed a tour between September and November of the courts of as many of the prince-electors as could be arranged, as well as those of the rulers of Thuringia, Württemberg and Baden.
It was a very busy summer and autumn as a result, with the secretaries of the embassy all but overwhelmed with the demands of constructing an itinerary, corresponding with the marshals of three electoral and three princely courts, and organising the resources for a suitably dignified cavalcade. James spent lavishly and beyond his ambassadorial income on outfitting his entourage. Lord Rochford became very interested in the project, and a subsidy was forthcoming from London for the purchase of diplomatic gifts for the princes and their chief ministers: jewelled snuff boxes, presentation boxes of Spanish cigars and casks of select and well-aged Scottish whisky. London even gifted the mission with small but precious items from the storehouses of the East India Company to distribute. Lord Rochford also detailed a couple of attachés to add weight to the mission, including an under-secretary from Whitehall and a major general from Horse Guards, the British army headquarters.
When the great cavalcade set off from Munich on Monday the seventh of September, only Herr Mossinger and Dr Dunbar were left behind at the embassy. Frank and Freddie rode in the fifth and final carriage, with behind them as escort a troop of dragoons the elector had provided as a courtesy till they crossed the frontier at Augsburg, en route to the Duchy of Württemburg.
The grand progress made its way down the Rhine to Cologne and by Hesse-Cassel to the electorate of Saxony, reaching its final stop at Ernsthof, the capital of the Duchy of Thuringia, at Martinmas. By the time the cavalcade reached Ernsthof, Frank and Freddie regarded themselves as authorities on the princely courts of the Empire. It was with a deal of experience that they assessed the court of Ernst Albrecht IV.
‘Lacks colour,’ observed Frank Potts, ‘as with the other Protestant courts we’ve visited.’
‘I’ll admit that,’ Freddie agreed. ‘Cologne was quite the experience. The archbishop-elector was delighted with our Lord Burlesdon. I rate the festivities at Bonn as the most lavish so far, exceeding even those of Stuttgart.’
‘And not likely to be exceeded here. A grim old Schloss in which to hold whatever festivities there might be, don’t you think? The palace and park out at St Hildegard are much nicer, I hear, but His Serene Highness has determined he’ll receive Lord Burlesdon in the city. I wonder if it’s anything to do with family?’
‘What’s that, Frank?’
‘Sometimes I despair of you, Freddie. The duke is married to Maria Clementina of Ruritania ...’.
‘Oh! Then she’s his lordship’s sister! Does she know that?’
‘More to the point, does the duke?’ Frank frowned. ‘If it wasn’t for General Cameron’s excitement at being here, I’d almost believe Duke Ernst Albrecht is being offhand with his lordship. These Thuringians have a reputation for Calvinist prudery.’
Freddie and Frank were not in the innermost counsels of the mission, but they had worked out that Major General Cameron had his own agenda on their German tour. He had disappeared amongst the military of Hesse-Cassel and was already closely engaged with officials from the Thuringian war ministry. Teddie Carfax had just shrugged when Freddie asked him what was up with the general.
Since they were in the city of Ernsthof Freddie took the opportunity to walk its streets, and found the Hohe Markt area quite charming. The beer houses opposite the Matthiaskirche had outside tables, and after settling at one Freddie found the Thuringian beer quite as fine as the beer of Munich, though it was darker.
He was coming to the bottom of his tankard when he was momentarily seized by a feeling of déjà vu. An army officer in a white uniform with red facings was striding across the market place. He stared. It was unmistakably Bastian, except of course it couldn’t possibly be him, so it must be Bessie. Freddie took after her, with a certain eagerness it had to be said, wondering what on earth had brought her to Thuringia. She walked directly up to the great twin-towered gatehouse of the ducal castle and through it, saluting as the guard presented arms.
Freddie also passed the gate but lost Bessie in the outer court. But scouting around he discovered more evidence that it was her. An empty coach was being taken down to the stables below the castle by servants in a familiar olive green, and the arms painted on the doors were the Elphberg lion and the Glottenburg griffin impaled on a lozenge. Princess Osra Madeleine had arrived in the city. And it seemed she was not in the least bothered by her mistress of the robes dressing up as a male officer of the Leibgarde. But for what purpose?
***
James found it difficult to assess Duke Ernst Albrecht of Thuringia, but of all the princes surrounding his base in Munich he was the one with whom James most needed to strike up some relationship. Thuringia was one of the largest of the imperial principalities below the rank of electorate. It sat strategically between Saxony, Bavaria and Ruritania and its northern frontier even reached to the southern bounds of the electorate of Hanover. Improving relations with Ernsthof was the main reason Whitehall was willing to subsidise his diplomatic tour. Thuringia’s military establishment was large and the mission’s aim was to construct an accord both with it and Hesse to raise the weight of British influence within the Empire now Prussia could no longer be counted on as an ally.
Diplomatic gifts had been distributed around the Thuringian court and meetings arranged with key officials, but James had not detected much sense of progress with the duke himself. He brooded on the view of the city and the wide valley of the river Itsch below the castle, a rather splendid prospect from the windows of the suite he had been given. There was a knock on the door and a servant announced a messenger from Strelsau.
‘My dear Baron!’ James exclaimed in surprise. ‘I had no idea you were expected! Your friend Freddie Winslow will be pleased, however.’
The young Captain Wollherz smiled. ‘The pleasure would be mutual, your excellency,’ he replied in his perfect English, ‘but I have this packet to deliver and then must return to Ruritania immediately. Its sender was insistent on the point.’
James insisted in his turn that the captain take a seat as he opened the packet, saying there might be a need for a reply to Strelsau. He was astonished at what he found. It was a letter to James written personally (in meiner eigenen Hand) by King Rudolf, the man he knew to be his father.
My dear son, the king wrote, I have long hesitated as to when might be the right time I should write this letter, though I knew that sooner or later I must. I do not write to you as a father, for I cannot claim that place in your life for reasons you will know, though whether knowing them is the same as understanding them is of course a different matter. Your brother Henry has however assured me that this letter will not be taken amiss by you and there is no better time than now to send it, for you have begun a residence of what will likely be some years in a neighbouring realm.
Let me first say how much I am pleased at what I hear of your manner of life and conduct in the high position you have assumed. The love your brother has for you, and the great respect your aunt, the Princess Osra, evinced after meeting you warmed my heart. You cannot ever assume an open place in the Elphberg family, but be assured that you do occupy that place in the hearts of those Elphbergs who have come to know you, and who are proud to call you brother, nephew and, in my case, son.
And now to more mundane but necessary business. Relations between the Ruritanian court and Lord Windlesham’s mission in Strelsau are not all I would wish, but I have other means of acquainting myself with your government’s intentions as regards the Empire. So I have some idea what it is Lord Rochford hopes to accomplish with your tour of the capitals of the greater principalities. What’s more, I think it might form the basis of a very necessary adjustment to the fragile balance of power that has formed since the Seven Years’ War. But more of that at some later date. What you may not know is that the government of Frederick of Prussia does not think kindly of the initiative you are pursuing and his envoys in Cassel and Ernsthof are deploying all means in their power to frustrate it.
The marriage between your sister Clementine and Duke Ernst Albrecht was formed, as such marriages are, with a political end in view. At the time it was contracted it was already apparent to me that Thuringia as an ally of Prussia would be fatal to that balance so necessary to preserve the Empire intact, and indeed the Thuringian marriage did make sure that Thuringia and Ruritania both remained unaligned throughout the late conflict. Had we not done so it is very possible the Holy Roman Empire would have collapsed under the strain, with chaotic results for Europe.
I have now dispatched your aunt Osra to Ernsthof to act on my behalf in doing what she can to offset the pernicious influence of King Frederick. You may already have some idea of your aunt’s considerable talents and resources, so when I say that I expect favourable results, you may not be surprised. I know that she would appreciate a chance to discuss matters with you, at your convenience.
I hope you will not object to receiving further letters from your father, though with all necessary precautions in communicating them of course. I have full confidence in Captain Sebastian Wollherz von Stock, a loyal and brave young servant of the house of Elphberg. He will convey faithfully to me the words of your response.
RUDOLF R.
‘Well, my dear baron,’ James said, ‘it seems that no written reply is expected. But if His Majesty asks you how the letter was received, be pleased to tell him that it was with great pleasure and profit. I think that will suffice. Now perhaps you may need some rest.’
‘Indeed, your excellency,’ the boy laughed. ‘I rode post from Strelsau, which means the best part of two days in the saddle. I shall hire a post chaise to get me back. It will take more time, but will be far easier on my backside. I will seek out Mr Winslow before I go however.’
***
‘Ahah! Bessie!’ Freddie grinned as he encountered the familiar uniformed figure trotting down the steps of the palace’s east range into the great court.
She grinned in return. ‘Can’t fool you can I, Freddie. We’ve not got long, but maybe you and I can find time for some necessary and pleasurable business.’
‘I have a room that can be locked.’
‘Good, because I’ve decided to award you a special privilege, given to very few.’
‘What’s that?’ Freddie asked.
‘Why, to take me from the front. Could you do that? I’m sure with the size of what you have between your legs, it will be very memorable. Judging by past experience it may be noisy too.’
The pair hurried down to the lower court, where the lesser members of the British mission had been housed in what was called the Knights’ Lodgings.
Once safely locked in Freddie threw off his clothes, and as he stood naked, eager and ready for business, he found Bessie looking at him askance.
‘Look Freddie, undressing can be quite an erotic experience. It’s a common male misconception that sex only begins when both parties are as nature intended. Now, I want you to kneel on the floor there in front of me. Feel free to stroke yourself as you like.’
Humming to herself, the girl began removing her male attire, moving sensuously and seductively as she did, teasing him as she dropped the back of her drawers and presented her bare backside for him to feast on.
‘I’m going to explode if this goes on much longer,’ Freddie groaned, as he took his face out from between her buttocks.
‘Me too!’ Bastian laughed as he turned to reveal the extent of Freddie’s misconception. ‘There, so much for your chances of impregnating my sister. Still, let me get on my back and bring my legs back to my chest. It’s possible for men to fuck face to face. See?’
As they lay exhausted a half hour later, Freddie broke off a long kiss and with a grin asked Bastian how he knew that when his sister had vaginal sex she was loud.
‘I shall tell you, dearest Freddie. We got the prettiest and cleanest of her friends among the linkboys to do her in my bed in Munich, though not to take it to the absolute conclusion. Risky, but children care little for caution. It was as exciting as it was because of the danger I suppose. The poor fellow – Paulus his name is – was quite in love with her, enough to be very happy with me in his backside too, indeed I’d have to say that by the end of our brief and baroque affair it was me he came to love rather than Bessie, which annoyed her. We were all three of us sixteen at the time and so immature. To resolve the boy’s confusion we subsidised his return to Ingolstadt, and I’m glad to say he’s now very happy as a clerk at the Rathaus there, or so he writes, but in another irregular relationship, this time with an older man.
‘After sharing those joys with Paulus, Bessie and I agreed that there were things we could do with each other which were not too incestuous. There. That’s a secret you’d best not share outside this room. Shocked?’
‘Anything you two do in bed is fine by me.’
‘I guessed. And now I have to get back to Strelsau, for which I’m sorry. I’ll be even sorrier when Bessie finds out I’ve been here and have gone without a word to her. She’ll make our lives a misery in some way or other, you can be sure. But my mission is a secret one and must not be known around the court.’
‘You’re not going to tell me why you are here are you.’
Bastian kissed him. ‘No. All you need to know is it’s in my king’s service. See! I blurt out every compromising sexual revelation as soon as you ask me. But where my oath to my king is concerned, you shall hear nothing.’
***
James received an invitation to attend Duchess Maria Clementina in her suite in the castle’s state rooms within a couple of hours of Captain Wollherz’s departure. When he was announced what he found was something of a family reunion, his aunt and sister occupying a sofa together. He made his bows, then the duchess rose to offer her hand and cheek, an act that could not happen unless she was acknowledging their family relationship.
‘Please take a seat, my lord,’ said the duchess. ‘May I address you as James? I may? Thank you. Our father and our brother Henry have long been telling me I would profit from your acquaintance. So I am delighted to have the opportunity.’
The duchess was dark-haired, not a red Elphberg. She was alike in looks otherwise to their brother Henry and therefore, James supposed, to himself, perhaps sufficiently for the casual observer to remark it. She shared Henry’s look of intelligence, though did not possess the acuity and decisiveness of their aunt, the princess Osra.
James observed that the princess was no longer in mourning, but beautifully dressed in silver brocade, lavender and purple silk, though the death’s head brooch he had remarked when last they had met was still on her chest, a lingering reference no doubt to her bereavement.
‘Now dear James,’ the princess began after an appropriate exchange of civilities, ‘you’re here as the representative of your king, and I don’t expect you to reveal anything that would compromise your allegiance to him. But we can at least speak freely on some matters, those where King Rudolf and King George have a common purpose.
‘It is in all our interests to contain the instability that now threatens the Empire. It may seem to many to be an antiquated club of princes and a relic of Gothic barbarism, and there are those who would sweep it away just for those reasons. They include those princes within it who seek to raise their own thrones as high as the emperor’s and work only for their own interests. We may well point the finger at Frederick of Prussia, though he’s just one example.
‘But that’s to forget the best of what the Empire has represented: over a score of realms united under the imperial crown despite all their differences in religion, language and race, a commonwealth of peoples at the heart of Europe. It’s an ideal that Europe cannot afford to lose, but we see that it is weakening yearly under the pressure of war and this new idea that a people and their prince form a nation whose own interests override all others and make any act they undertake lawful, an idea that the French seem to be taking to extremes.
‘Neither Ruritania nor Great Britain is part of the Holy Roman Empire, but both are entangled with it, and both benefit from it in different ways. Being outside it perhaps we two nations sometimes see better what it represents and, speaking for myself, how it could be the foundation of a greater polity than it currently is, a commonwealth or oecumene of peoples united in dignity, prosperity and a peace Europe only experienced fitfully in those long ago days when Rome was mistress of the world.’
James was startled at the mesmerising force of his aunt’s words, and the clarity of the vision behind them. As she paused, he commented ‘As you say aunt, our countries do have a common interest in the survival of the Empire, but you could hardly say it was for the same reasons. My government presides over a very different sort of empire, where the commercial interests of a single nation have brought into subjection dozens of peoples around the world, and not necessarily for their own good. It has its ideals, but what overrides them is exploitation and the creation of wealth. I speak as one who has benefitted hugely from it, so I should know. What happens in the Holy Roman Empire is of little real interest to London, beyond its preference for peace across Europe and a concern for the security of its colonies across the seas.’
Princess Osra gave a regretful smile. ‘I don’t disagree with you, James. But for the present at least our interests coincide. So the question is how to further them, and in a small way I think we can. Over the past few months your father and I have been exerting ourselves, and we can present to your government, as representing the interests of the electorate of Hanover, the following proposal. A joint statement has been formulated by us and some friends among the princes which will be presented to the imperial diet on the Bavarian succession question, which concerns us all. Both Wittelsbach electors will put their names to it, as also will the electors of Cologne and Saxony and the rulers of Württemberg, Baden and a number of the prince-bishops of the southern Empire.
‘As of today, Duke Ernst Albrecht has agreed that Thuringia will join with the proposers, a prince whose adherence was the most important to secure in the present circumstances. We plan that the guarantors and arbiters of the arrangement will be King Rudolf and King George, as elector of Hanover.’
James was stunned. Neither he nor Lord Rochford had any inkling that this scheme was in the air, though the full explanation of his aunt’s stay in Munich was now clear to him. He also had a fuller insight into her sadness. ‘Can I take it that Glottenburg couldn’t be persuaded to add its name to the accord?’ he asked.
Princess Osra shook her head silently in reply.
‘Then, aunt, I’ll forward the text of the accord immediately to Lord Rochford in London. If you provide it I’ll have Mr Carfax, my second secretary, ride post with it and my own despatch to Hanover, and it will be in London within three or four days, if the sea cooperates.’
***
‘So Freddie, I’ve finally found you,’ Sebastienne remarked as he rounded a corner in the lower court of the castle to find her in front of him, almost as if she knew he was about to appear.
Freddie couldn’t quite prevent himself from a moment of confusion as he stopped dead. ‘Oh! Er ... Bessie!’
‘Are you glad to see me?’
‘Yes ... certainly. Of course I am ... How are you? How’s the new job?’
Bessie relaxed and took Freddie’s arm, walking him down through the castle to the main gate. ‘The job’s surprisingly fun,’ she replied, ‘even when it takes me to a nunnery. We stopped at Medeln abbey on the princess’s progress from Strelsau to Ernsthof. I’m used to nuns of course, having been educated by the Clares in Munich, but Medeln’s rather different, I found. The Cistercians there are so very Rothenian.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It’s difficult to put in words, but let’s just say that Rothenians can be old-fashioned, even by the standards of the Catholic church, which is not the most go-ahead of institutions. Being at Medeln was really like walking through a door into the middle ages. Oddly enough, the princess is one of the most modern people I know, yet she was quite charmed with the old place. She’s decided to remodel the abbess’s mansion, and install new plumbing and such. She says it’ll make quite a fine country retreat from her palace in Strelsau.’
‘The Osraeum,’ Freddie nodded. ‘I had a good look at it from the outside when I stayed in the city last May. Very grand.’
Bessie chuckled. ‘Even grander inside. I have my own suite. Next time you come to Strelsau, you must send in your card. Now tell me why my brother was in Ernsthof.’
‘What! How could you possibly know that?’
‘So he was. I thought so. Let’s just say that I have this uncanny sense of his proximity. Don’t ask me how, but I get a sense of his presence when he’s near. It’s not unusual in twins I believe.’
‘Really?’ Freddie demurred. ‘Bastian’s never remarked on possessing anything like it.’
‘Believe me, he knows. So why was he here?’
‘I can’t comment on embassy business, even to you Bessie. But I don’t know anything worth confessing anyway. Bastian didn’t say a word to me about why he was here. When we briefly got together he had other things on his mind.’
‘And you on his back no doubt.’
‘Something like that,’ Freddie admitted.
The girl hugged his arm. ‘I’m glad you two got together. You’re just right for him Freddie. The pair of you are more alike in some ways than he and I are, and I’m not referring to your possession of the same genitalia. You’re an honest pair, each driven by ideas of duty and, for all your education and experience, strangely naïve and open boys. You’re rather Rothenian for an Englishman, Freddie.’
‘I think that was intended as a compliment, so I thank you.’
They reached the castle’s gate. ‘I’d like to take you to a coffee house,’ Freddie said, ‘but I’m told they’re for men only in Ernsthof.’
Bessie made a sound of disgust. ‘Strelsau’s not much better. A woman cannot go unaccompanied into any of them on the Platz. So condescending and indeed insulting. It’s as if we were all suspected of being whores. Let’s go for a walk along the cliff gardens instead.’
So the pair strolled the zig-zagging terraced paths of the hillside Schlossgarten, situated below the castle ditch and above the rooftops of the city. It was in fact quite a charming place to walk, and many couples were taking advantage of its shrub-lined paths and secret little gardens.
‘No parasol, Bessie?’ It was an unseasonally warm and sunny day for November in Thuringia.
‘Hateful things,’ she scoffed. ‘Nonetheless, I have an idea in mind of designing one where the stick houses a thin rapier blade, so I will always be prepared to defend my honour from oafish males who impose on me.’
‘All women should have them. Males might be a lot more respectful if it were so.’ He paused, then broached the subject that had been on his mind since Sebastienne left Munich. ‘Excuse my prying, Bessie, but what’s your connection with the count of St-Germain?’
The girl spun on him and let go his arm. ‘What! Why do you ask that?’
A little startled at the reaction, Freddie stumbled out with his sighting of the count leaving the Wollherz house in the Anger.
Frowning, Sebastienne said ‘You weren’t mistaken, Freddie, but it was a visit of no consequence. The count has a connection with the Jakobskloster where I was educated, that’s all. He called in as a courtesy since he was visiting the prioress, who’s both his friend and mine.’
Freddie nodded and the subject was closed, but he was left with the inescapable impression that he had somehow touched a sensitive nerve in Sebastienne Wollherz von Stock, and was not getting the full story.
***
Freddie disembarked at Mannheim wishing he’d taken carriages across France from Calais instead. By his count his voyage up the Rhine had been interrupted by stops and inspections at eighteen customs posts from when he left Rotterdam. Of course, he should have remembered that when he had previously taken the river with Lord Burlesdon, diplomatic privilege meant the ambassadorial boat had not been subject to more than nominal stops for customs and inspection. His return to Munich from Christmas leave was threatening to be late. The fact that the river had been clogged by floating ice had not helped either.
And now there was the smelly and stuffy carriage ride from Mannheim to Munich to look forward to. He made sure to keep off the beer at lunch and thoroughly relieve himself before he climbed into the post carriage for Stuttgart. Freddie had at least remembered Frank Potts’s advice and kept a purse filled with a variety of the different currencies of the Upper Rhine valley and the southern Empire so he wouldn’t be caught out at the frontiers by exchange problems.
Freddie made Stuttgart in one day, which was exceptionally good going, helped by the fact that the roads were frozen hard and there was little ice and no snow. But the journey from Stuttgart to Augsburg, though the same distance, took two days, passing as it did through six frontiers. There was also a thaw to deal with which left the roads dirty and slushy. Freddie, deeply frustrated, hired a horse at Augsburg rather than put up with the stink and inconvenience of yet another of the Prince of Thurn and Taxis’s post carriages. He wondered if the prince himself ever travelled in them. If he did he might at least have considered a ban on farmers carrying livestock inside, and also banned spitting and tobacco.
It was as evening fell on Wednesday 13 January 1773 that Freddie caught sight of the twin towers of Munich’s Frauenkirche, purple against a pale evening sky. Pulling up his horse, he luxuriated in a sudden feeling of homecoming, one which had been distinctly lacking on his arrival at Burlesdon Rectory. Not that the family hadn’t been welcoming, it was just that he no longer belonged to their small world.
His father had called him into his study on his last day in Norfolk and they had the inevitable conversation about his future plans, once his year in Munich was up. It seems there had been communication from his patron the earl, and the rector had been persuaded that a militia commission might be arranged if Freddie was that way inclined. His father had expressed qualified support if Freddie wished to pursue that course. Hopes of a clerical career for him had at least been shelved, and were now transferred to the more likely recipient of the Burlesdon livings, Freddie’s little brother Charles, now aged thirteen. It seemed that the two parishes which had been reserved for Freddie might be legally transferred to Charlie. Freddie wished the lad luck.
As Freddie trotted his patient mare up Theatinerstrasse and the church towers of the city chimed the angelus above him, he resolved that his future would not be in Britain but in a wider world, and hopefully one in which Bastian Wollherz had a part to play.
***
On Passion Sunday 1773 James was delighted to welcome Henry Elphberg to his embassy. ‘Of course, I had best stay elsewhere, even though I am incognito and even though nobody much notices what a minor royal like me does,’ the prince reflected.
‘It’s the form of the thing I suppose,’ James grinned. ‘How long are you here for?’
‘A week, I think. I’ll put up at the Wollherz house. The young captain travelled here with me from Strelsau, delighted to ride in my carriage now I actually have one. He’s good company is Sebastian.’
‘How is your new domestic life working out, Heinz? Somehow I’ve never associated you with houses, stables and not least the management of a household.’
The prince rolled his eyes. ‘I was deluded by how easy you make it look. There was a problem with my first attempt at a major domo – a man Ferdy recommended. I should have taken that as a warning. The man was drinking his way through my cellar. I had to get Aunt Osra to sack him. I’m on pins as to what the new one will get up to. Maybe I should poach your staff. The good Herr Abentauer is such a gem. I remember him in the Residenz when I was a boy and he was an under-chamberlain. He allowed me to slide down the marble banisters of the west stairs on a mat.’
‘Poaching servants carries a higher penalty than poaching my pheasants on the Burlesdon estate, believe me.’
‘Understood. But there is in fact one of your staff that I hope you can spare. He interests me and I may have a vacancy for a man of his skills.’
‘And who would that be, Heinz?’
‘Why, young Mr Winslow.’