The Queen's Husband

by Jean Plaidy

  Still, Leopold had not lost hope of governing England, for a very significant event had occurred at Kensington Palace three months before young Albert had been born. Their sister, who was Duchess of Kent, had given birth to a daughter – Alexandria Victoria – and if the King did not marry and produce an heir – which was scarcely possible considering his age and condition – and his brother William did not either – and he seemed in no state to do so – that little girl, Leopold’s niece, his own niece, would be Queen of England.

  So Leopold stayed on in England hoping that since he had failed to be the husband of that country’s Queen, he might one day be her uncle.

  Very clever of Leopold, but that was no reason why he should be considered an oracle who could solve the problems of Saxe-Coburg.

  Of course his mother believed he could.

  ‘I think,’ she was saying now, ‘we should write to Leopold and ask his advice.’

  ‘Mother, this is a matter for me to settle.’

  ‘When he came over four years ago, he did mention that he thought Louise a little frivolous. He noticed, you see.’

  ‘We all knew the character of my wife, Mother. It was obvious.’

  ‘He came all the way from England then just to find me a house in Italy for the winter,’ said the Dowager Duchess fondly. ‘I am sure he would be willing to come on this far more important mission.’

  ‘I am of the opinion that I can deal with this affair.’

  ‘What do you propose to do?’

  ‘To bring the matter into the open. I may find it necessary to rid myself of her.’

  ‘Ernest, be careful. This could reflect on the children. You remember when Leopold was here, how taken he was with little Albert.’

  ‘They were taken with each other, I think.’

  ‘It is true. Albert could just toddle at the time, but although just a year old, he was very forward for his age. He followed Leopold everywhere. I remember how he sat on his knee watching his lips as he talked.’

  ‘I remember how enchanted Leopold was by such admiration.’

  ‘He said to me, “I have a dear little niece in Kensington Palace whom I love as much as I could love this little fellow.” And he went on to say that as soon as he had set eyes on our little Albert he had thought of his little niece in England. “She could be Queen of England,” he said. “And would it not be a wonderful arrangement if these two children could be brought together.” He said that, Ernest.’

  ‘No one makes plans for the family like Leopold.’

  ‘Oh, he is clever, so wise and so eager to bring good to the family. Just think – our little Albert could be King of England. It’s a possibility, Ernest. So you see, my son, how careful you will have to be. There must be no whisper against little Albert.’

  ‘I’ll see that there is not. At the same time I have no intention of allowing my wife to deceive me under my very own nose.’

  ‘I just cannot believe it of her.’

  ‘You will … when I produce the evidence.’

  ‘All I ask you, Ernest, is take care.’

  ‘You may rely on me to do that.’

  She sighed. She hoped so. But all her children of course could not be as wise as Leopold.

  The book lay on Grandmama Saxe-Coburg’s lap and the two boys listened entranced as she read to them.

  ‘These two little boys you see here were Saxon Princes and one was named Ernest and one named Albert.’

  ‘Those are our names,’ cried Ernest.

  ‘Which one was Albert?’ asked Alberinchen.

  Grandmama Saxe-Coburg showed them.

  ‘They were your ancestors, my darlings, and they lived in the Castle of Altenburg. Their father was Duke Frederick.’

  ‘Our Papa is Ernest,’ said Alberinchen.

  ‘That’s quite right,’ said Grandmama. ‘There are a lot of Fredericks in our family and Ernests too.’

  ‘And Alberts,’ put in Alberinchen. ‘There are a lot of Alberts too, Grandmama.’

  ‘There is one here now,’ said Grandmama, kissing him, which made him hunch his shoulders and laugh delightedly.

  ‘There’s a bad man coming in,’ said Ernest, placing a plump finger on the page.

  ‘Yes, there is a bad man. Now the Duke Frederick had a chamberlain named Kunz of Kaufungen and because Duke Frederick had made him give back land which he had stolen he decided to have his revenge. So one night he, and some wicked men who were helping him, crept into the castle where the two boys were sleeping and they seized Ernest.’

  ‘What about Albert?’ cried Alberinchen.

  ‘Well, there was another little boy, an attendant of the Princes, who was sleeping in a bed near that of Albert and they mistook him for Prince Albert and took him instead.’

  Alberinchen’s face puckered. It seemed that Prince Albert was going to be left out of the adventure and he didn’t like that.

  ‘Albert was clever,’ said Grandmama quickly. ‘He saw at once that a mistake had been made, so he said nothing and when little Graf von Barby, the boy they had mistaken for Albert, was dragged away, he hid under the bed in case they came back.’

  ‘And what happened then?’

  ‘They discovered their mistake and came back for Albert. They found him under the bed.’

  ‘But he was clever to hide there,’ said Alberinchen.

  ‘It was very clever. Well, the good Duke Frederick was not going to allow his sons to be kidnapped, so he sent his trusty soldiers after the villains and they caught them and the boys were restored to their father. Now, that is a true story and it happened in the year 1455.’

  ‘I like that story,’ said Ernest.

  ‘So do I,’ Alberinchen laughed. ‘I liked it when Albert hid under the bed.’

  ‘It’s history,’ said Grandmama Saxe-Coburg. ‘Now you know how exciting history is you must pay great attention to your lessons.’

  ‘I like history when it’s about us,’ said Alberinchen.

  ‘That wasn’t about us was it, Grandmama?’ asked Ernest.

  ‘It was about our family. And as most royal families are connected with each other, history is about us.’

  ‘I like history,’ said Alberinchen. ‘I wish Mama would come. I want to tell her about how Prince Albert hid under the bed.’

  They were playing the capture of the Princes. It was a good game because they could each play the part of a prince, but there were other exciting roles. They both wanted to be the wicked Kunz at the start of the game and Duke Frederick at the end. Ernest thought he should have the choice as he was the eldest, but Alberinchen did not agree with this and it seemed as though the game was going to end in a fight and the inevitable tears when their mother put her head round the door and said: ‘Are my boys pleased to see me?’

  The game was forgotten. They dashed at her.

  ‘My darling, darling Alberinchen. Dearest Ernest!’

  ‘Oh, Mama, how beautiful you look.’

  ‘That’s because I’m pleased.’

  ‘Why are you pleased, Mama?’

  ‘Let’s sit down and I’ll tell you all about it. We’re going to have a children’s ball.’

  ‘What’s that, Mama?’ asked Ernest.

  ‘We’re going to dance.’

  Alberinchen’s face puckered.

  He didn’t like dancing, he said. It made him tired.

  ‘Tired!’ cried Mama. ‘Why I could dance all night and not be tired.’

  ‘So could I,’ said Ernest. ‘It’s only silly Albert who can’t.’

  Alberinchen’s lips trembled and his mother hastily embraced him. ‘Albert is not silly, are you, Alberinchen?’

  ‘I’m clever like Albert who hid under the bed.’

  ‘Oh, that story, yes. It was interesting, wasn’t it, my pets? Now you’re going to love my ball and we’re all going to dress up. What would you like to be, Ernest?’

  Ernest could not think but Alberinchen wanted to be Prince Albert who was nearly kidnapped.

  ‘W
ell, I don’t think so, darling. I’ve got a lovely idea for you.’

  ‘What is it, Mama?’

  ‘It’s a surprise. You’ll learn all in good time.’

  ‘A surprise!’ The little boys danced around joyously.

  ‘Now,’ said Mama, ‘who doesn’t want to dance? Look at Alberinchen.’

  The surprise was his costume. He was to be dressed as Cupid.

  ‘Who was Cupid, Mama?’ asked Alberinchen.

  ‘The God of Love. He carried arrows with him and when he shot them into people they fell in love with each other and married.’

  ‘Like you and Papa?’ asked Ernest.

  Alberinchen watching her face saw a strange expression flit across it. It frightened him but he did not quite know why.

  ‘Like people who fall in love,’ said Mama.

  ‘Shall I have arrows?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘You can shoot them,’ cried Ernest. ‘Mama, I want arrows too.’

  ‘No, darlings, you won’t shoot them. Alberinchen will just carry them and he will dance with the pretty little girls.’

  ‘I don’t like little girls,’ growled Alberinchen.

  ‘Oh, my dearest boy. You are not very gallant.’

  ‘What is gallant?’ asked Ernest.

  ‘It’s something nasty,’ Alberinchen said, confident that it must be if he was not it.

  ‘Well, it’s something Princes must learn to be.’ Mama laughed and hugged him. ‘My precious little Cupid!’ she added.

  So there he was in satin costume and Ernest was similarly garbed.

  ‘What darlings they look,’ said the grandmothers to each other; and their fearful eyes were on the Duchess Louise who was rather hysterically gay as though she knew that there would not be many more such balls where she would be able to dress up her children and join in the fun.

  All the young guests were lined up together.

  ‘You know the steps,’ whispered Ernest to his brother. ‘They’re those you learned yesterday.’

  ‘I don’t like those steps,’ said Alberinchen.

  But Ernest wanted to dance; he liked the look of the pretty little girls who were placed opposite them, and it was interesting to be with other children.

  Ernest took his partner’s hand and they danced along the line of children as they had been taught to do, while the grownups looked on and were enchanted.

  ‘Ernest is quite the little gentleman,’ said Grandmama Saxe-Coburg.

  ‘A real little Prince,’ agreed Grandmama Saxe-Gotha.

  Alberinchen stood sullenly. He did not like being dressed as Cupid. He wanted to be dressed as Prince Albert. He did not want to dance with silly girls but to hide under the bed and then fight and scream when the wicked Kunz came to take him.

  They were waiting. The music was playing. The little girl was standing before him, smiling. He hated her; he hated all little girls. He stood sullenly, his eyes lowered.

  ‘Albert.’ Grandmama Saxe-Coburg was calling to him. But he remained, his eyes lowered.

  His mother came over. ‘Alberinchen, darling, it is your turn to dance.’

  He would not dance. He hated dancing.

  He began to cry. He was aware of the shocked dismay all about him, so he yelled; soon his screams were drowning the music. His face was red; they were always afraid when he screamed like that and he knew that they wanted to stop him at all costs.

  One of his nurses came forward at a sign from Grandmama Saxe-Coburg, seized him and hurried him away.

  In the room he shared with Ernest he stopped screaming. Once again his tears had brought him what he wanted.

  But that was not the end of the affair.

  Grandmama Saxe-Coburg came into the room. He stood eyeing her defiantly.

  ‘Albert,’ she said, ‘I wish to speak to you.’

  The fact that he was called by his proper name was a sure sign that he was in disgrace.

  The tears started to fill his eyes.

  ‘Your conduct in the ballroom was not what I would have expected of a Coburg Prince,’ said his grandmother.

  ‘I didn’t want to dance,’ said Albert.

  ‘But what about the little girl, your partner? She wanted to dance.’

  ‘But I didn’t.’

  ‘And because of you, she couldn’t. Was that kind?’

  ‘It makes me tired,’ said Albert pathetically.

  ‘What, you, a Prince … too tired to dance with a little girl!’

  ‘I don’t like dancing. It’s silly.’

  ‘It’s a necessary social grace, and that is something you will have to learn, Albert, social grace.’

  He wondered about social grace. Was it as exciting as history and stories of his ancestors?

  ‘One day, you will grow up and you will marry. You won’t be able to cry then, you know. I wonder what Uncle Leopold would have said, if he could have been in the ballroom today.’

  At last the child looked contrite. What power Leopold had! It was three years since Albert had seen him but so impressed had he been that he remembered still and was eager for his uncle’s good opinion. But perhaps Leopold’s name had been kept alive by constant references to this god-like uncle.

  ‘You must not think, Albert, that this is an end of the matter. That was a disgraceful scene and you will hear more of it.’

  As Albert was about to burst into tears, his grandmother left him.

  Albert was silent. There was no point in exercising his lungs on unresponsive silence.

  Duke Ernest was in his study and his younger son stood before him. The Duke was holding a long thin cane which fascinated Albert.

  ‘Now, Albert,’ said the Duke, ‘I am ashamed of you. You have insulted a lady. I have heard all about your conduct in the ballroom. Your partner in the dance, a little girl of nobility, stood before you and you refused to dance with her and screamed so much that you had to be carried struggling from the ballroom. That is conduct which I cannot tolerate in my Court.’

  Albert continued to stare at the cane.

  ‘Therefore I am going to punish you. I am going to beat you with this cane and you will still feel the effects of this beating for days to come. Now don’t start to cry. Is that the way princes behave? You can scream to your heart’s content but Ernest is gone for a walk and will not hear you; your mother will not hear you either. As for your grandmothers, they agree with me that what I am about to do is necessary. So Albert, take your punishment like a man and remember that when you are about to behave badly in future the cane will be applied with even more severity than I shall apply it now.’

  His father seized him. ‘No!’ screamed Albert.

  ‘But yes,’ retorted the Duke.

  Albert’s screams were deafening.

  ‘I won’t be defied,’ shouted the Duke.

  Albert screamed the louder. His face grew red; he was gasping for breath. The Duke raised the cane but Albert’s piercing screams grew louder.

  The Duke hesitated. The child would do himself an injury; he had heard of Albert’s screaming but had never realised how alarming it could be.

  It grated on the Duke’s nerves; he felt he had to stop it at all costs; at the same time the sight of that small face suffused with blood and growing more purple every moment alarmed him.

  The boy would do himself an injury; and the Duke knew that if he applied the cane those terrifying screams would grow worse.

  ‘Stop it, Albert,’ he commanded.

  Albert continued to scream.

  The Duke could not bear the sound; it seemed to pierce his eardrums. And then suddenly the child started to cough.

  The Duke put the cane down. Albert, they said, was delicate. That was why he didn’t like dancing. It tired him. Albert went on coughing; he found he couldn’t stop.

  The Duke said: ‘If you promise to behave better next time, I shan’t use the cane now.’

  That quietened Albert.

  ‘I think,’ went on the Duke, ‘that we have come to an
understanding.’

  It was true. Albert understood that his screams were as effective with his father as with others.

  The cough had helped too. He started to cough again. He went on and on making an odd noise as he did so.

  His father went with him to the nursery and the grandmothers came in for a consultation. Meanwhile Albert discovered that Ernest, returned from his walk, was coughing too.

  The brothers had contracted whooping-cough.

  They must stay in the nursery, said the grandmothers. Everything that could be found to amuse them was brought to them. There were not so many lessons and more picture books; and Albert studied the drawings in one of these picture books which told the story of the two Saxon princes who had been kidnapped.

  He did not mind being kept in the nursery because Ernest was with him; they could play and fight and listen to accounts of the treats that had been planned for them when they were better.

  ‘Why does Mama not come to see us?’ asked Albert.

  Ernest couldn’t answer that; and when they asked the grandmothers they talked of something else.

  The young Duchess was imprisoned in her room. She was frightened. Everything was known now. They had spied on her. She had been seen with her lover; they knew that she had visited his house.

  What would become of her? What of her little boys? They were confined to the nursery now with whooping-cough and she longed to be with them.

  They were cruel, these German Princes – cruel and crude. There was one law for the men and another for the women. Why should Ernest be so shocked because she had taken a lover? She wanted to laugh when she thought of the hosts of mistresses with whom he had humiliated her. Yet she was supposed to ignore that side of her husband’s nature; to remain coldy virtuous and await those occasions when he deigned to share her bed for the purpose of getting children. Her part of the bargain had been kept. He would have to understand that.