The Prince and the Quakeress: (Georgian Series) Read Online Free

Edward, who was so much brighter. It was not done unkindly, but in a bantering affectionate way; yet it disconcerted George and made him fumble more. Lord Bute seemed to understand this. He never bantered; he was affectionate and kind and… helpful. That was it. Whenever Lord Bute was near him, George felt safe.
    In the family circle his father never behaved as though he were Prince of Wales; he would take his sons fishing on the banks of the Thames; and they played cricket in the Clivedenmeadows. The Prince was very good at tennis and baseball, and he enjoyed playing with his own children. Lord Bute would join in the games; he was so good that he was a rival to the Prince; and the Princess Augusta would sit watching them with a little group of ladies, applauding when any of the children did well – and also applauding for the Prince and Lord Bute. George noticed that his mother applauded even more enthusiastically for Lord Bute than for the Prince of Wales.
    George preferred being at Cliveden rather than Leicester House; as for those rare occasions when he was commanded to wait on the King, he dreaded them. His grandfather was an old ogre – a little red-faced man who shouted and swore at everyone and insisted on everyone’s speaking French or German because he hated England and the English, it seemed. The old man was a rogue and a tyrant. Papa and Mamma hated him, so, of course, George did too.
    But even at Cliveden there were lessons to be learned, and now he must attend to this stupid affair of the waterman.
    Edward was looking out of the window. Clearly he would not help. So George sighed, and after a great deal of cogitation he came up with the answer.
    ‘It’s thirty-six,’ he told Edward.
    ‘Sure?’ asked his brother.
    ‘I have checked it.’
    Edward nodded and wrote down the answer.
    George picked up the next problem but at that moment the door opened. Eagerly the boys looked up from their work; but it was not one of their parents nor Uncle Bute. It was their true uncle, the Duke of Cumberland, their father’s younger brother.
    Edward was delighted by the diversion, George to see his uncle. They saw little of him, and George presumed it was because he was on the King’s side, which he concluded judiciously, was what one would expect in view of the fact that he was the King’s son.
    The Duke of Cumberland was dressed for hunting – a large man inclined to corpulence, at the moment beaming with affection.
    ‘I was hunting in the district and thought I’d come and see my nephews.’ He embraced George first, then Edward.
    Come to see his nephews! thought George. Not his brother or his sister-in-law?
    ‘Papa and Mamma are here,’ said George.
    ‘Not in the house,’ replied their uncle. ‘Doubtless in that theatre of theirs with my Lord Bute.’
    George detected a certain contempt in Uncle Cumberland’s voice. He hoped Papa would not come in and quarrel with him. He hated quarrels.
    ‘And here are you boys sitting over your books on a sunny day like this.’
    ‘It’s a shame,’ agreed Edward.
    ‘We have to learn our lessons,’ George reminded him primly.
    Uncle Cumberland pulled up a chair and sat down heavily. He laughed. ‘What do you learn, eh? What’s that?’ He picked up the waterman problem and scowled at it. ‘Much good that’ll do you.’
    ‘Mr Scott thinks we should be proficient in mathematics.’
    ‘Well, I’m not a great mathematician like Mr Scott. I’m only a soldier.’
    Edward had leaned his elbows on the table and was propping up his face as he stared intently at his uncle. ‘Mathematics are a bore,’ declared Edward. ‘So are French and German.’
    ‘Mr Fung does his best to teach us, but we are a trial to him,’ George explained.
    ‘I like dancing with Mr Ruperti,’ declared Edward.
    ‘But music is the best of all,’ put in George. ‘It is the only subject at which we seem to make much progress. Mr Desnoyer is pleased with us.’
    The Duke sat smiling