The Princess of Celle: (Georgian Series) by Jean Plaidy Page B

sprang to his feet when his mother entered and made the courtly bow which he had been taught; but Sophia’s eyes were on George Lewis, whose brown face hadflushed a little as he lumbered awkwardly towards her, and clumsily made his acknowledgment.
    Sophia made a note: I must speak to Platen about him.
    ‘Where is your Governor Platen?’ she asked.
    George Lewis shook his head implying that he did not know.
    ‘Do not shake your head at me, sir. Have you no tongue?’
    ‘Yes, I have.’
    ‘Have what?’ demanded Sophia.
    ‘A tongue.’
    ‘Should you not give me some title when you address me?’
    ‘Yes … Madam.’
    ‘I am glad you deign to do so. I never saw such manners. And what is this game you are playing?’
    ‘I am a general,’ piped up Frederick Augustus. ‘You see, Mother, my men are facing those of George Lewis but I fear he has manoeuvred his forces into the better position.’
    ‘It is a pity he cannot manoeuvre his manners a little more expertly.’ Sophia gave a loud laugh. ‘I want to see Platen. You go and find him and take him to the antechamber. I will be there shortly.’
    Frederick Augustus went off and Sophia gazed in dismay at her eldest son who continued to stare down at his feet. ‘George Lewis,’ she said impatiently, ‘why do you stand there? Why don’t you say something?’
    ‘What do you want me to say?’ he mumbled.
    Sophia Charlotte had toddled up to her mother pulling Charles Philip with her; and Max William was waiting hopefully for his share of her attention.
    ‘I want you to say something which will tell us that you are not the complete oaf and boor you seem to be.’
    She turned to Sophia Charlotte.
    ‘Mamma …’ said Sophia, her pretty face flushed with excitement. Sophia picked her up. How pretty she was! and Charles Philip was pulling at her gown too.
    Sophia sat down and took the young ones on her lap while Max William sidled up.
    ‘Well, my son,’ said Sophia, ‘what were you doing in the campaign?’
    ‘I was a general … a little one.’
    ‘And you have left the battle?’
    He rubbed his finger on the soft material of her skirt and smiled up at her shyly.
    ‘Perhaps that is because you were only a little general, my son.’
    Max William lifted his shoulders and laughed childishly. Sophia laughed with him; and the little ones joined in.
    They were delightful, these children of hers … all except George Lewis who had no manners, no grace; he had now gone back to the table and was moving the toy soldiers there with a concentration that meant to imply he found them more interesting than anything else in the room.
    He should be whipped, thought Sophia indignantly. He was a boor. How had it happened? His tutors and governors were to blame. But were they? She had told Ernest Augustus that she was beginning to suspect no one could make anything of George Lewis.
    When he had been a baby she used to say she loved him because he was so ugly. It was amusing perhaps for a baby to be ugly, but when the baby grew up and became an uncouth, ill-mannered boy that was another matter.
    Frederick Augustus came back and said that their governor was awaiting the Duchess’s instructions and was in the antechamber when she wished to see him. So Sophia took leave of the children and went to join their governor.
    Baron Frank Ernest von Platen was a mild man, but an ambitious one, determined to raise himself in the royal household. He saw an opportunity of doing this when he was appointed to the post of governor to the children of the reigning house. Being cautious he had become wealthy, and Ernest Augustus was inclined to favour him.
    ‘Ah,’ said Sophia, ‘so here you are.’
    ‘At your service, madam.’
    ‘I want to talk to you very seriously about George Lewis.’
    Platen looked grave.
    ‘You may well look as you do. I find his progress most unsatisfactory.’
    ‘He is not as bad as he seems, Madam.’
    ‘I hope not, for then I should despair; but it is necessary for