The Enchantress (Book 1 of The Enchantress Saga) by Nicola Thorne Page B

they are Electors of Hanover, Princes of Germany.  But rightful kings of England?  Never.  Anyway, to resume my story. I was sent to Rome as Chaplain to Prince Charles Edward. I am a contemporary of his and the names Delamain and Allonby are well known and loved by the Stuarts. Of course I was loath to give up my monastic life, but my superior is a staunch supporter of the Stuarts and he has hopes that, with their Restoration, the Benedictines will be allowed to return to England and re-establish their houses there. Then I will become a proper monk again. So much does the father Abbot have this as his prayer that he was determined to have me further the cause by proximity to the rightful house.
    ‘Thus I went to Rome just at the time the French were defeated by a force commanded by George II at Dettingen and the spirits of the Stuarts were low. However, since then the French prime minister, Cardinal Fleury, has died and been succeeded by Cardinal de Tencin who is very sympathetic to the Stuart cause, despite the disinterest of the French King Louis XV. The cardinal was once helped by His Majesty King James and is now anxious to be of assistance to the Jacobites.
    ‘So, in January this year, His Royal Highness, Prince Charles Edward, journeyed to Paris and since then he has been actively engaged in preparations for the conquest of England.’
    ‘Aye, we heard of it,’ Brent said dispiritedly. ‘How in February this year a French fleet under Marshal Saxe embarked from Dunkirk only to be dashed to pieces by a storm in the Channel.’
    ‘I was there,’ Tom said, his grave tones echoing Brent’s. ‘We were on the same ship as the Marshal and succeeded in returning safely to port. It was a bitter blow. The French seemed to lose interest after that and Marshal Saxe was sent to Flanders. His Royal Highness was for sailing to Scotland alone in a fishing boat, but we dissuaded him. He even wanted to serve with the French troops against the English, but we said what folly that would be! It would disgust the English that the rightful heir to the throne was taking arms against them.
    ‘It was Murray of Broughton, who arrived in France last week to find out the truth for himself, who informed me of grandfather’s illness. John Murray is one of His Majesty’s most ardent supporters in Scotland and, on learning that I was to come to Delamain to see my grandfather, he bade me appraise the strength of support for the King here and in northern parts of England.’
    ‘Among the Catholics and the old nobility support is strong,’ Susan said, ‘but our merchant classes have grown too satisfied and rich under the Hanoverians. They do not yearn for the old way of life as we do. You will find very small support here.’
    ‘Why, brother,’ Brent said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. ‘Let us engender support. Let us whip it up. If we have a small active number surely support will grow? We have connections from here to the border. Oh Tom, is it really possible His Majesty will land in England?’
    ‘Not His Majesty yet I fear,’ Tom said smiling. ‘He is an old man and he looks to his son to capture England in his name. No, it is Prince Charles Edward, scarce twenty-four years of age and as handsome, as upright and as fearless a man as ever you could wish to see – he already saw fighting at 14 years of age – whom we shall welcome to these shores, and before very long, I’ll warrant you. He kicks his heels in Paris and will do anything to board ship for England; though his advisers would have him land first in Scotland where support is greatest – some of the Scottish clans having been long persecuted by the Hanoverians because of their devotion to the Stuarts. From the north the Prince will journey with an army to join up with supporters in the south and the Elector will be packed back to Hanover where he belongs, you mark my words.’
    ‘May it please God,’ his Mother said, bowing her head. ‘But Tom, you know how