We fell into place behind Lord Melbourne, Florence first, while Granny walked at my side. I peeked at the members of the court who stood in colorful array on either side of the huge room. The gathering was composed entirely of men with downturned mouths and mocking eyes. The sour group gave me a tight feeling in my chest. I hoped the Queen was not of like mind.
Sunlight shone through the windows and bounced off the polished marble floor leading to the throne. The reflected light cast an intense shimmer. Creating a shield from the light, I put my hand over my eyes, accidently poking my finger into my right orbit. The jab caused my eye to tear, and while attempting to recover my vision I stumbled, losing my footing. I slipped catching hold of Granny as I went down.
My poor grandmother fell with me. She landed on top of me cushioned by my full skirt and six petticoats. “Are you hurt, Granny?” I whispered while helping her to her feet. “Hardly, ducky! But do behave!” she answered. Our performance was serenaded by a chorus of male gasps that sounded like a gust of wind off a Derbyshire hilltop.
Gathering the remaining pieces of my dignity, I caught the Queen in what looked suspiciously like a smile. Behind all the pomp, she was just a girl, one year older than Florence, but nonetheless, a contemporary, and might even share our sense of humor.
We now stood before her. Queen Victoria wore a small diamond tiara fixed to her dark hair, which was pulled back in a style that made her look older than her twenty years. Her gown was a jewel-tone shade of blue and across her chest she wore a wide pale blue banner, pinned with some sort of medal-of-honor.
Her Majesty had a round cherubic face and bright blue eyes. She seemed to focus all of her attention on me, as our trio curtsied in unison. I was certain that we presented an odd picture as Florence was so much taller than me and I had an inch or so on Granny.
In the round of curtsying that followed one of my travel boots became tangled behind the other, but with a slight lurch I recovered my balance. I must admit my nerves were getting the better of me and as happens, one mistake leads to another. I was not the most graceful of ladies; a malady I hoped to outgrow.
Ignoring protocol, Queen Victoria spoke directly to me, her expression one of bemused sympathy. “We have not yet been introduced, but whoever you are, I believe I shall invite you to remain at the Palace with me for I find you to be delightfully amusing. I am in a much better mood now than I was this morning.” She cut a look at Lord Melbourne.
The Prime Minister stepped forward, cleared his throat and announced, “Miss Florence Nightingale.” He indicated the Queen’s guest with a flourish and a nod.
Clasping her hands, Queen Victoria exclaimed, “Miss Nightingale, at last we meet! Your good works are becoming legend. Our people have informed us of both your struggles and your many successes. It is an honor to meet you.”
“If it pleases Your Royal Highness, I do not wish to be praised for I am only performing God’s will. It is He who would set me on this road and He who guides my hand,” Florence had become certain that her vocation was prompted by a message from heaven and wished to take no credit.
The exchange between the young Queen and Miss Nightingale was a fragile, fleeting moment; but one I would never forget. My heroine was being recognized, and in typical Florence manner she modestly rebutted the accolades. I made a mental note to remember all the details in order to record the auspicious moment in my journal.
I held my breath as Queen Victoria turned her eyes towards me. I thought perhaps I should curtsy again and began to lower myself in a nervous wobble. I wasn’t sure if one curtsied every time one was addressed—it could get tiresome. Taking a few quick breaths I began to bend.
“Please! Take care!” the Queen cautioned. “I fear you may hurt yourself! It is not necessary to curtsy again.”
“Thank goodness!” I thought I had spoken in a whisper but as my words bounced back echoing from the very walls, I realized I should lower my voice.
Looking about the room, the Queen waved off the assemblage of elderly men. Some strode and others shuffled, but they disbursed, leaving only Florence, Granny, and me in the company of the Queen and Lord Melbourne.
Chapter 6
Her Royal Highness sighed. “There, that is much better, for the very presence of the Privy Council is distracting. They have no part in our plans and with them gone we may talk without fear of stirring gossip. Since there are but the five of us, let us gather in my private audience chamber. We are certain tea and cakes will lift your spirits until dinner.”
As much as I tried to apply all that Mama had told me about proper manners when at tea, I could not make my hands behave or the butterflies go to sleep. One of her sternest rules was that I concentrate on what the hostess was saying and not be led astray by the pastries. Easier said than accomplished for these were the most divine cakes I had ever seen.
A childhood tick had been awakened when I poked myself in the eye, causing my right eye to blink uncontrollably. Perhaps it might be nerves for I had yet to leap over the simple fact that I was about to sip tea with the Queen of England! My mouth was so dry I was spitting feathers. I searched for my serious face and found it, certain that Her Royal Highness was sneaking peeks at me—perhaps she hoped I might do something odd? That was more or less a certainty.
“How can you sit there so calmly?” the Queen asked widening her eyes. “You must be bubbling over with curiosity as to why you have been summoned. I am certain you believe we are about to change the course of your lives. Guess what? We are!”
Florence sat, spine straight, face most serious—friendly, but serious. “If it were bad news we could be in irons, but as my conscience is clear, and you have offered us such heavenly cakes, I believe we are to be pleased. I have always felt that the anticipation of good news should be delayed—it teases the mind in a pleasant way.”
I noticed once we were in a less formal setting that the annoying royal We faded. The Queen smiled. “I was informed you were impatient, but that seems to be a falsehood. Shall we finish our tea before I explain?” She cut her eyes to me as if expecting I would answer for my chief.
Not wishing to appear rude, I did however respond. “If it pleases her majesty, I can barely contain myself for I have not yet learned the art of patience from my mentor. The news must be something very good, as cakes such as these could only accompany the best of tidings.”
Florence cringed at my audacious words, but although I may button my lip during serious moments, when I sense happy times I have an uncontrollable urge to poke them with a stick.
“Then let us begin!” The Queen adjusted her satin skirt, and fussed with the banner over her chest, finally losing patience with the ribbon as it repeatedly fell from her shoulder. She removed it and handed it to her maid, settling back in her seat.
“Miss Nightingale, I understand you wish to establish a school for nurses, lady nurses.” The Queen put aside her teacup and leaned toward Florence. “The construction of such a school will require a large amount of money.”
A change came over my friend’s face. Could she be standing on the brink of a dream come true? I looked from Florence’s face to the Queen’s and then snuck a peek at Lord Melbourne. It was as if an invisible bluebird of happiness had swept through the room. I turned to Granny who was grinning, exposing her fine white teeth.
“We are greatly impressed with your work on behalf of the poor and the sick in both the countryside and London. You have taken on a very important task and we wish to support your efforts as they can only benefit our beloved nation.”
It was easy for me to detect the struggle that went on behind Florence’s calm demeanor.
“Unfortunately, there are those in England, most particularly London, who would deny women access to such training,” the Queen continued. “Further and more to the point, we would be required to seek permission from the Privy Council before gifting such a large sum from our treasury for the establishment of a school for ladies.”
Queen Victoria u
sed the royal “we” but I understood what she was saying. She might be the ruler but she still had to get permission to dip into the accounts. I supposed it did not change no matter who you were. I imagined my mother and Florence’s standing behind HRH, arms folded and heads nodding as they chorused: We told you so!
Disappointment registered on Florence’s face; but only for a moment for she would not have been invited to the Palace to be told her wishes were being denied.
The Queen looked to the Prime Minister. “Lord M, am I correct in the amount estimated to construct such a school? Two-hundred and fifty thousand pounds?”
Melbourne nodded. “That would be the least amount required and does not include the continued funding of the school.”
I could hear my hopes fall to the floor with a thud. Why were we here if the Queen could not afford to help Florence?
“If you could see your faces, the distress you exhibit! My news is good but will require some effort on the part of all three of you.” The Queen glanced at me, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Your school shall be funded but not from our English coffers.” She paused making certain we understood the meaning of her words.
I felt my shoulders slump at the news. Had we come to London to be disappointed?
“But it is my wish to see you have your school, Miss Nightingale,” the Queen continued. “To that end I have contacted a most altruistic young gentleman. Mr. George Averoff of Athens Greece. Through his businesses exploits in Egypt, he has amassed a sizable fortune in banking and real estate. We have been made aware of his many donations to charities and common good purposes, including the founding of schools and a hospital in Athens. When I read the story in the newspaper of your noble desire to found a school of nursing for women, I wrote to Mr. Averoff.”
Florence sat at the edge of her seat, leaning in as if fearful of missing a single syllable of the Queen’s words. Perhaps this was the answer to her prayers. I could almost hear her thoughts, as she ascertained that God did approve of her vocation.
I had become familiar with the expressions on my dear friend’s face. If she could sing, she would have burst into song. The image caused me to chuckle, which I quickly converted into a tea-choke. “Pardon,” I whispered as all eyes turned to me.
“Duty forces me to remain in London and Mr. Averoff does not wish to travel here for personal reasons. Consequently, I am sending you, and your companions to Athens to formally receive his gift and thank him in person. He has informed me that the total sum of his endowment will be somewhere above the estimated amount to build your school for nurses. It will be more than enough to fund the construction and equipping of a proper facility to train young ladies who share your desire to help the sick and injured.”
Florence clasped her hands together before she spoke, “Your majesty! I am overwhelmed with gratitude. You shall never regret this. Our school will graduate the finest, most dedicated nurses. England will benefit greatly. And of course our brave soldiers in the field shall reap the greatest benefit.”
“We will be sending Lord M, excuse me, Lord Melbourne both in his capacity as Prime Minister and to act as head of a guard to protect both you and the treasure which will be turned over by Mr. Averoff to you. There is a great responsibility resting on your shoulders.”
I became giddy at the news. We were to have a glorious adventure! We would see foreign shores, meet new people, and ultimately Florence would have her school. It was as if heaven had rained good fortune upon our humble heads. I would do more for my country than merely populate it with lots of little Broadribbs. Turning to Granny Alice, I saw her eyes glisten with tears.
“I only wish I could join you,” Victoria spoke in a girlish trill. “For you shall have a jolly good time. Do expect to be gone until late in the year as the journey is long, and we do not know if your benefactor will wish your company for more than a fortnight.”
Silence fell. I imagined the others were doing just what I was doing…savoring the excitement that lay ahead. A deep voice caused me to lurch out of my daydreams.
Chapter 7
“I have been seeing to our travel arrangements,” Lord Melbourne nodded. He held the Queen’s gaze respectfully and then he turned to Florence. “We will be traveling by carriage to Dover, then by ship to Calais. From Calais we have secured passage via both coach and private steam engines with connecting rails through France and on through Greece to Athens.”
A tiny moan escaped my lips for this seemed an arduous adventure and I had brought only two sets of shoes. I stared down at my feet. The dress slippers that remained in my trunk would not withstand the rigors of sea travel and the new pair of leather boots now pinched my feet as if red ants held court in them. I should have paid closer attention to the Queen’s invitation. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I closed my eyes for a moment. If the journey was to be a hardship for me, it could be very detrimental to my grandmother.
I recalled my father’s tale of taking the dear lady to sea for her health and bringing her back within a day for she suffered greatly from seasickness. I leaned into Granny and whispered, “It is not too late to change your mind.”
She drew herself up, affronted. “Never!” she snapped. “I have taken on the responsibility for your good reputations and I shall not be cast aside.”
I swallowed back a chuckle, for if Florence decided to throw caution to the wind and suddenly become a sinner, it would be no effort for her to discard my little Granny and do as she pleased.
Florence tilted her head at me; her eyes alight with a strange glow. I was certain we shared the same thought—luck does not drop such a large sum in one’s pocket without charging a toll. I was certain that we were both ready to pay the fare, pinching boots notwithstanding.
Two hundred and fifty thousand pounds was more money than the richest man in Derbyshire saw in a decade. This gift would be the answer to Florence’s prayers. If it had been required, she would have crawled to Athens to accept the endowment.
I halted my teacup just before it touched my lips for the Queen began again to praise Mr. Averoff’s accomplishments. “He is an amazing young man—only twenty-four—and yet with no inheritance, and only his brilliant mind, he has managed to amass a vast fortune.”
I smiled and then sipped my tea. It was not that I was interested in Mr. Averoff’s finances; it was his mind that had intrigued me. His business acumen and his philanthropy sent tingles of curiosity racing up my spine. I judged him to be a very special gentleman. I would endure the painful boots in order to meet such a person.
Since Florence had spent years in Greece when she was a young girl, I hoped she might have a bit of gossip she could share. Why I was suddenly so interested in this stranger I was not certain. I smothered a yawn as I made a mental note to question her about Mr. George Averoff.
Suddenly the room grew dark, as if someone had shut off the lights. I started and lurched from my seat, only to realize my eyes had drooped shut without my bidding. The long trip from Derbyshire was taking its toll and I did need a teensy bit of sleep if I was to enjoy our evening at Buckingham Palace. I repeated the name a second time for it was as if I could not believe my good fortune—Buckingham Palace.
The journey had been the longest I had taken in all my sixteen years; I was as limp as a dishrag. A hearty meal would build up my reserves for the trek ahead as we were to travel through or near…I counted on my fingers, England, France, Germany, Austria, Italy, and Greece. My mother would have palpitations when she was told of our adventure, but by then we would be out of her reach—not that there was a thing she could do about it for I would be on a special mission for the Queen of England.
So many wonderful things had occurred in the last few hours, I could only thank the stars that neither the Throckmortens nor the Nightingales had attended us. The thought of such a long journey in the company of my bossy mother would have me joining Archie in jumping from trees.
“I agree that it will be a challenging o
dyssey, but Mr. Averoff wishes to meet you in person, Miss Nightingale. He has a great interest in the future of women in medicine,” Lord Melbourne explained. “He will be spending the summer in Athens, returning to Cairo once he has come to understand your plans for the school of nursing. I believe he has some interest in creating a similar school of learning in Egypt. Considering the fortune he intends to donate to England, we must grace him with your presence for as long as he requires.”
Pinching the palm of my left hand, I struggled to contain myself, but the thoughts were skittering through my head, and words popped out before I could bite my lip.
Happily the Queen bestowed an amused look upon me as she caught sight of my finger pinching. I blushed.
“Are we truly going to Greece in a steam locomotive?” I queried. “Is there such an invention in France?” I had read of such powerful engines in the newspaper and seen the illustrations that appeared to dwarf the people who stood beside them. Now I would have the opportunity to ride in one! What would protective Roger Broadribbs think of such a thing for in all his eighteen years he had yet to do anything so bold?
Lord Melbourne spoke softly seeming to take delight in watching my face, for I must have looked like a child on Christmas. “Each day there are more private rails being laid throughout France, Germany, and Greece to accommodate this new mode of travel. They do not all connect as yet, so there will be gaps in your train journey, which will make necessary the occasional change to carriages, all of which will take the greatest forbearance on your part. But we are hoping the speed of this trip will encourage Parliament to look to the future, for if England is to remain strong we must embrace the future. In another century, the horse and buggy will be no longer.”
Queen Victoria raised her hand in a slight motion and Lord Melbourne ceased to speak. “Besides three ladies-in-waiting and two footmen, you will be attended by a small regiment of Dragoons who will see to your security and protect the treasure.”
Florence Nightingale Comedy Mysteries Box Set Page 3
