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

expansively at his nephews.
    ‘You boys should be learning to become soldiers, not prancing about with Mr Ruperti and scraping violins.’
    ‘We play the flute and the harpsichord,’ George explained.
    ‘You should learn how to command an army; you should study the niceties of strategy. Wouldn’t you like to be a general?’
    Edward said he would, but George was silent. He hated the sight of blood and did not care to think of men dying. Dying was not a noble glorious thing; people did not merely fall down dead; they suffered. He hated to think of people’s suffering, and worst of all, himself suffering or inflicting it.
    All the same Uncle Cumberland was a fascinating figure and as they rarely saw their relations from the King’s Court a visit like this was an event.
    He was a good talker and even made war sound fascinating. He drew his chair up to the table and said he would explain to them what had happened at a certain battle, the result of which had put their family firmly on the throne.
    ‘For, nephews,’ he said, ‘we came within danger of losing the throne. Your grandfather was ready to fly to Hanover; he had his valuables packed, and with his friends was ready to leave. And the rebels had come as far as Derby.’
    ‘To Hanover!’ cried Edward. ‘Do you mean, Uncle, that the people would have sent us away?’
    ‘Aye, sent us packing and put the Stuarts back on the throne. Our enemy the King of France had sent Bonnie Prince Charlie over to drive us away, and they were as far as Derby. Think of that. All the way from Scotland. Here, where are your maps? Now, I’ll show you. This is where the rebels were. It was November. I advanced to Stone, hoping to meet them. They were soon on the retreat.’
    His big hands were on the maps; his voice was low and intense; he glorified war himself, and his very single-mindedness fascinated the boys.
    ‘Now…’ The hand, big, brown, powerful, ranged over the map. ‘I drove’em back here… right to Penrith… right over the border. This had taken time and it was now December. I attempted to cut them off at this point, but there were too many for us. I had good men…’ His face softened. George could believe that he had good men. He would see that they caught his enthusiasm, his passion for war. It was apparent as he talked that this was a man who would know no fear… and no mercy. His eyes glowed; he was reliving that occasion all over again, and George had the impression that he was hoping the Pretender would come back or that someone else would give him an opportunity to save the crown for the House of Hanover.
    ‘We were all that winter in Scotland,’ he said. ‘Can’t do battle in the winter, boys. It’s cold up there. Spring’s the best time for battle. But there are bigger problems for a commander than battle. Ah yes. How’s he going to feed his men? How’s hegoing to get them where he wants? That’s the nightmare, boys. The battle… that’s the glory.’
    ‘Many die…’ began George.
    ‘Do you know how many they lost at Culloden, boy?’
    George shook his head.
    ‘Good God, and they’re supposed to be educating you! Two thousand rebels! And our losses? You must always set one beside the other. That’s how you calculate the extent of your victory. Three hundred and forty loyal English gentlemen lost their lives at Culloden, boys. But we got two thousand of them. It’ll be long before that scum raise a standard against our King, I can tell you.’
    George was silent. ‘What is it, boy?’ demanded his uncle.
    ‘George doesn’t like people being hurt,’ explained Edward.
    That made Uncle Cumberland rock with laughter. ‘So that’s the way they’re bringing you up, is it? Dance with Mr Ruperti! Music with Mr Desnoyer! French and German with Mr Fung! By God, what you boys want is to learn to be men. I’ll teach you a few things about living.’
    ‘But this is dying,’ interrupted George.
    That made Uncle Cumberland laugh louder. In