‘It’s time for my music lesson,’ said Anne. The hardness of her expression softened a little. ‘I must not keep Mr Handel waiting.’

‘What is it today?’ asked Amelia. ‘A lesson on the harpsichord or singing?’

‘Both.’

‘You used to perform well, sister.’

‘It is such a pleasure to play for Mr Handel. He is a genius.’

‘Fred never plays now.’

‘Not with Mr Handel. I suppose he didn’t care for criticism.’

‘He was not bad at the fiddle.’

‘No. Nor at the cello. I used to enjoy it when we three played together. Frederick seems less ... offensive then.’ ‘Oh, he has become too important. A mistress in Soho Square and so many influential men ready to tell him how they admire him.’

‘Well, at least we agree on one thing: Fred. Now I must leave you, sister. And, as you say, Mr Handel is waiting for me.’

In the music room Georg Friedrich Haendel who was known as George Frederick Handel was waiting for his pupil. This was a lesson to which he always looked forward. The Princess Anne was an apt pupil with the right respect for the most important matter in the world: Music. Moreover she, who was so haughty to everyone else, had the grace to be humble before a man of his talent.

The post of music master to the King’s daughters was an enviable one. Not that he cared for money. He cared only for music. But money was necessary to live.

As the Princess entered he lifted his unwieldy frame from the stool on which he was seated and, bowing, kissed her hand.

‘I am a little late, dear master,’ said Anne. ‘The Princess Amelia detained me.’

Handel smiled and when he smiled his heavy rather bad-tempered face became almost attractive. The smile rarely appeared for anything that was not concerned with music, but the Princess Royal was a very special friend of his.

As she sat at the harpsichord and played the piece he set for her, her expression softened and she became almost pretty. When she had finished Handel complimented her and said that her touch was sure; after that he made a few criticisms to which she listened attentively. The most endearing characteristic of the royal family was their love of music, thought Handel, watching her. They all had good ears and a strong appreciation. He was extremely grateful for this because to it he owed his comfortable living, and he was a man who liked comfort.

It was the same with the late King who, for all his lack of appreciation for beauty in any other form, was blessed with this love of music. George I had forgiven Handel, who had fallen into disfavour for having come to England during the reign of Queen Anne and deserting Hanover by remaining there. But when George came to England Handel was restored to favour and in the year 1715 had composed his Water Music which was played when the royal family took barge from Whitehall to Limehouse. George had been delighted with this music and had completely forgiven the composer his neglect of the past. Handel was received at Court and in due course entrusted with the musical education of George II’s daughters. George II had been merely Prince of Wales at that time although, after the famous quarrel between the father and son, George I had had the charge of the young Princesses.

That was long ago, thought Handel, and that Prince of Wales had now become King. There was, unfortunately, a new Prince of Wales.

‘You are looking troubled, master,’ said the Princess. ‘I trust my playing did not displease you.’

‘It was good,’ Handel told her, ‘apart from the faults I mentioned. But I have been disturbed lately.’

‘You disturbed, master! But that should not be. You have your music to think of. Now running in my head is the exquisite music of Acis andGalatea. I am taking a party to the Haymarket tomorrow night to hear Rinaldo.’

‘Your Highness has a rare love for music.’

‘But you have not told me why you are disturbed.’

‘People do not come to hear opera as they once did and it is very difficult to make the Haymarket pay. Alas artistes have to be paid; they won’t sing without it. And ever since Gay’s Beggar’s Opera found such popularity that light music seems to be the kind people look for.’

‘How foolish of them!’ Anne’s eyes flashed. ‘If I were Queen I would make a law forcing people to go to the opera your operas, master.’

He gave his rather beautiful smile.

‘You would be a good friend, I know. Ah, it was different in the old days. You will not remember the trouble I had with those two women. They were two of the best singers in the world, I am sure. But each thought she should be the Queen of Music and could not abide the other one.’

‘Master, of course I remember. It is not so long ago ... only a few years and I have always been interested in musical matters. You are referring to the sopranos Cuzzoni and Faustina.’

He nodded, his eyes under his very bushy black brows suddenly twinkling.

‘You told me yourself,’ she reminded him, ‘how they would not sing together and how you picked up Cuzzoni ... was it?’

‘Yes, Cuzzoni.’

‘You picked her up, carried her to the window and threatened to throw her out if she would not sing in your opera.’

‘And she did.’

‘Poor woman! ‘ laughed the Princess, ‘she had to save her life.’

‘And very beautifully she sang. She and Faustina together. The opera was Allessandro.... But we are wasting time; let me hear the harpsichord suite which I wrote for you.’

She played it with skill and he was pleased with her. ‘You did not tell me, why you were disturbed,’ she said afterwards.

‘Oh, it is nothing. Only that Italian Buononcini. People are comparing his music with mine and I tell you his is worthless ... worthless.’

‘Indeed it is worthless,’ said Anne.

‘But people are foolish. They who have no true musical appreciation begin to believe what they are constantly told. They go to the opera because it is fashionable ... not to hear music.’

‘I will ask the King and Queen to come with me to the Haymarket to hear your new opera. They will be delighted to. And I will see that the whole Court attend. Then you will not have any fear of not being able to pay the artistes.’

‘Your Highness is gracious.’

‘As a reward for my graciousness I demand to know what you are working on now.’

Handel sat down at the harpsichord and began to play; Anne listened. He was a genius; he was a master of music; and if she could command every one to listen to his operas she would do her best to persuade those who would do him most good to attend the Haymarket.

Soho Square was filled with the carriages and Sedans of the great. Anne Vane was holding a soirée.

Anne was in her element. She lived in luxury; whenever she went out in her carriage people pointed out the mistress of the Prince of Wales; people in high places sought her company. She had never been so important in her life.

She had her nursery where little FitzFrederick flourished with his nurses and attendants. The Prince of Wales visited the child frequently and delighted in attempting to discover a likeness to himself. Anne was constantly discovering resemblances and George Bubb Dodington and Mrs Behan bore her out that the child was the living image of the Prince.

The friendship between Frederick and Bubb was not quite so firm as it had been. The Prince continued to win large sums of money from his friend, but Frederick’s character had changed after contact with men such as Bolingbroke and Wyndham. He was less simple than he had been. Bubb, he believed, was a bit of a buffoon with his vulgar displays of lapis lazuli in his house and his brocades and velvets on his scarcely prepossessing figure.