My Name is Victoria

by Lucy Worsley

I gasped and tried to think what to do. ‘I’ll fetch Adams!’

  ‘No, no, we must be quick.’

  I squeezed my stupefied brain into action.

  ‘Take this!’

  I snatched off the lace fichu that covered my shoulders. He reached out for it, but I gestured at him to wait. I dipped it into the dish of water left out for the princess’s cat.

  ‘Inspired!’ he said, clapping the fichu up against his mouth as a kind of mask. Then he turned to face the blaze.

  ‘Albert!’

  For an instant he turned, but I could see that he was impatient to throw himself back into the flames. I felt guilty for having stopped him in doing his duty.

  ‘Be careful!’

  He smiled. Even amid the heat and hurry and danger of the moment, my heart contracted because he had that smile for me. Then he disappeared into the gloom and the dreadful loud cracks and reports as timber was devoured by flame.

  I peered through the window as best as I could from outside, but the smoke was so dense I could barely see a thing. The fire was now making a dull, deep roar, and I could hear crashes that might have been Albert banging into the furniture. I twisted my hands uselessly together. Should I fetch help? But if I left, would Albert burn alive with no one to know where he had gone?

  I searched desperately around the courtyard for water, for aid, for anything. But there was nobody, nothing. At last, through the gateway, I saw the soldiers returning from guard duty. It must have been the hour of the end of the watch.

  Just as I had done when the intruder came into Victoria’s bedroom, I screamed. It was a mixture of ‘Help!’ and ‘Oh!’ and ‘Fire!’ It was a high-pitched sliver of sound that cut through the evening air. One soldier paused and looked round, then they were all running over.

  Panting, I waved to summon them to move more quickly. But even then, something knocked against my bare shoulder. Spinning round, I realised that it was the old lady’s foot. Albert had Sophia in his arms. His clothes, his hair, all were black. He was breathing hard, and I can tell he was trying not to retch once more. Carefully he laid the old lady down on the cobbles, and I sank down too and cradled her head on my lap. Behind us, the cries and calls of the soldiers told me that they were trying to prepare water supplies before making their way into the blazing building. ‘The engine!’ I heard, and ‘Buckets!’

  I met Albert’s anxious eyes, which now looked very white in his smutty face. The Princess Sophia had not moved, nor apparently breathed. I placed the back of my hand very close to her lips, and held my own breath, and prayed.

  Yes!

  There was the faintest breath of air. In a moment or two, she was choking and coughing, and Albert was dripping water from the cat’s dish between her lips. She clutched my hand with a powerful grip. ‘My dear!’ she panted. ‘Your young man saved my life, you know. But have you seen my cat? Where is Tiddles?’

  Albert was on his feet. ‘Tiddles!’ he said. ‘How could I forget Tiddles?’ He went running back inside, calling for the cat.

  ‘It is my own fault,’ she said weakly. ‘I was sitting too near the fire, and I perhaps took a little snooze, and when I woke the flames were at my apron. I ripped it off but it was too late. Oh! It was awful!’

  ‘But Your Royal Highness, where was your servant?’

  Feebly, she waved her hand in the air in a gesture of denial. ‘Gone,’ she said. ‘No … money to pay, my dear,’ she said. ‘Your father has been so good to me. He has helped me. I get on quite well.’

  Not so well now, I thought, looking down at her tired and filthy old face. She closed her eyes. I had the impression that she had retreated into her own world.

  But then she surprised me by snapping open her eyes once more.

  ‘I owe so much to you, my dear,’ she said, ‘for looking after me in my hour of need. I am surrounded here in my home by good, gentle people. There is your kind young man there, who has found Tiddles, and your good, generous papa.’

  Albert was kneeling beside us, the cat in his arms, and I could see my father and Adams coming out of the big door of Victoria’s apartment. ‘Come away, come away, ladies!’ my father was saying, taking charge. ‘The building is not safe, come away.’

  I was glad to let him raise Princess Sophia to her feet and coax her into the duchess’s apartment. I was left sitting on the cobbles, but Albert’s dirty hand was extended towards me and his strong arm was lifting me up. Now, with the delayed shock, I felt weak, and I leaned upon him heavily as we went. My father and the princess had gone on ahead when Albert suddenly stopped. He lowered his mouth to my hair and stood still, clutching my shoulders. ‘Do you know what I thought in there?’ he whispered. ‘Do you know what kept me going through the smoke? It was the thought of acquitting myself well in your eyes.’

  My heart lurched inside me like a wild thing, and all the dirt and sweat and shock melted away. I said nothing, saw nothing but the sight of his steady gaze, which I returned with all my heart.

  ‘Victoria,’ he said, ‘you make me the best version of myself.’

  ‘Sir!’ I whispered at length. ‘You must not speak so. It is unfitting. Remember your status.’

  He laughed. ‘Silly billy!’ he said. ‘It’s too late for that. You know that I love you. And there’s no need to say anything. I know that you love me too.’ With that, he lowered his lips and planted a kiss on my sooty forehead.

  He knew me well enough to know that this would distress me almost as much as it pleased me. So he swiftly walked me on, allowing me no time to protest, and I had to bend my head to hide the crimson tide of pleasure that was rising and spreading and warming me from head to foot.

  Chapter 31

  Dinner at Windsor

  The weeks after Albert and Ernest’s departure were sad and drab. I believe that they were harder on me than anyone else in the household, for I had to keep it from everyone that Albert and I had become sincerely attached to each other.

  The only thing that lightened my gloom was the feeling that Albert shared my sense of having met a true kindred soul. As he followed his brother down the stairs to the carriage on the very last morning of their stay, he took my hand and drew me aside.

  ‘I entreat you,’ he said out of earshot of his brother, ‘to permit me to write to you.’

  ‘With pleasure,’ I said and smiled.

  It was only as his back disappeared out of sight that I gasped with the boldness of what I had done. To enter into a secret correspondence with a young man would ruin my reputation if it were to become known. And it was contrary to the stated wishes of both the duchess and King Leopold of the Belgians, no less.

  ‘What was he saying to you?’ asked Victoria curiously, as the carriage drove away.

  ‘Oh, nothing!’

  I should have realised that such a response would only encourage her.

  ‘Really, Miss V!’ she said. ‘Come on. You never have anything scandalous to tell me. What’s the secret?’

  In the end I told her to leave me alone because I had a headache. And in truth the wretched, miserable experience of the princes’ departure had made me physically ill.

  ‘Well, go and lie down, Miss V,’ said Victoria. ‘You do look pale. I shall have to take care of you. It’s just you and me again now, isn’t it? Come on, to the sofa and rest, and then later on we’ll take Dash out. We haven’t taken him for a run together for ages.’

  Her unwitting kindness made me feel even worse.

  I knew that Albert, too, could see only insurmountable obstacles ahead of us. We could correspond, but it would hardly ease the pain of parting. He could never ask for my hand in marriage. The System would not allow it.

  The daily round of pianoforte, walking Dash and writing letters resumed. Once I had revelled in this quiet life, but now it seemed a little tame. Partial relief came in the form of an invitation, in the summer, to Windsor Castle. Now that Victoria was an interesting young lady of seventeen, who had danced at a masquerade, King William the Fourth
decided that he wanted to take a look at his niece. In the days before the visit, we at least had the excitement of packing a trunk and preparing dresses.

  ‘Oh!’ Victoria said one morning while I was reading and she was opening letters from Germany. The princess was also in correspondence with Albert, I knew, as a cousin and a friend, exactly as her Uncle Leopold would have wished. ‘The boys have been to a spa. Swimming! How about that?’

  All at once I blushed and hung my head, feeling guiltier and worse than ever. I had so nearly said that I already knew about the trip to Baden Baden. ‘I … didn’t realise,’ I stammered out, ‘that Albert could swim.’

  ‘Why should you?’ she asked, but idly, scanning the rest of the letter quickly as if it bored her. ‘It is surprising. I suppose he is a bit of a drip. I can’t imagine he’s much good at it.’

  ‘Well, he does ride, and shoot, and hunt!’ I piped up loyally.

  ‘Really?’ she asked. ‘I never heard him talk about that. Only about boring old books or music or paintings. Yawn. What a pair of goody-goodies you both are. But I’m glad you mentioned it, because, do you realise, it’s practically the first thing you’ve said all morning? Come on, enough reading. Where have we got to with the wretched Windsor dresses?’

  It was only with memories of Albert, especially his kiss on the night of the fire, that I consoled myself during the dull hours as Lehzen and I aired and refurbished Victoria’s gowns for a reception, a dinner and two nights away. There had been much negotiation, as was standard between the two rival courts of the king and the duchess, about the length of our stay. It had been finally determined as two nights.

  Victoria herself was deeply ambivalent. Since our very first visit to Windsor to see the old king, the gloss for her had worn off. She wanted nothing to do with the king and the court, nothing that would remind her of what lay ahead. We had to coax her into the carriage, for appealing to her morality and reminding her of where her duty lay only made things worse.

  When finally we climbed in and took the road to the west, my thoughts could not help but return to the time I had travelled in the opposite direction to begin my life at Kensington Palace. That had been long ago, before I met my dearest friend Victoria, and my dearest Albert. Then, as now, I sat opposite my father. But I pondered on how much stronger and more confident I had become. I knew now that I need not be a slave to my shyness. I still had it – I always would – but when I tried, I could cast it aside.

  This time we were heading straight to Windsor Castle itself, a fine, fairy-tale sight as we climbed up the steep road into Windsor town.

  ‘King George the Fourth, bless his selfish old soul, really was quite marvellous at devising buildings,’ said my father, admiring the turrets and towers against the sky.

  ‘Yes,’ the duchess was quick to respond. ‘That is why he was so tight with his money that he never gave the future queen her rightful allowance!’

  Once we had been shown to our rooms in the castle, I quickly went to find Victoria, hardly stopping to wash my hands and certainly without a pause to rest. I was very worried about her and about how she would behave during this stay.

  As was only right for the princess, she had been given a vast room, and it was to be found along a wide, curved corridor. I discovered her standing and staring out of the window. There was a tremendous view over the great park below, with its avenue of trees marching up and up towards the sky. Merely the thought of walking along that seemingly endless avenue made me tired. And Victoria herself appeared still to be in a particularly sombre frame of mind.

  ‘Are you thinking about the time when you will come to live here yourself? I asked lightly, not wanting to intrude, but wanting to help if I could.

  She turned and threw herself down upon the small armchair near the window. ‘Yes, I am,’ she said. ‘It’s splendid, isn’t it? So much more magnificent than Kensington Palace. But almost … like a cage. I won’t be able to walk in that park without many eyes looking at me from this great barrack of a building. This must be one of a hundred windows.’

  ‘But, Victoria,’ I pointed out, ‘ever since you were a baby you’ve had people watching you. You, more than anyone, are used to it.’

  ‘But at Kensington Palace I had you and Lehzen, and there are no crowds of people there unless we hold a party. Here it will be different. Everything will be different. I shall be quite alone.’

  She sat unusually quietly, still looking out at the trees. In her face I could see traces of the ghostly, ghastly little girl I had first met at Kensington Palace. ‘I shall not leave you all alone if I can help it,’ I whispered to myself, and clenched my fists.

  ‘You know, there’s only nine months to my eighteenth birthday now,’ she said, turning suddenly as if reading my mind. ‘Everyone knows. Don’t pretend that your father and Uncle Leopold – and other people too, I’m sure – don’t keep calendars and count the days down.’

  It was true. I could not deny that I had often seen my father looking in his pocketbook after dinner and checking off another passing day. I knew without being told that he was hoping the old king would die before Victoria’s eighteenth birthday so that there would be a regency. I needed no reminding that the duchess and he would then step forward as powers behind the throne.

  ‘Exactly, and I don’t think that the king will die tomorrow,’ I said. ‘He may be old and sick, but I’m sure that he will live another nine months. You will rule for yourself, as you want to, as a grown-up. I’m certain of that.’

  She smiled a sad little smile. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I believe that the very thought of a regency makes my uncle the king cling on to life, so little does he want my mother and your father to rule.’

  I also believed this to be true, for my father was not popular at court. I knew that we had to be more careful than ever of assassins, intruders, chills, illnesses and, more subtly, a loss of confidence that could reduce her chances of success.

  ‘Of course your uncle will live until at least then,’ I said with more warmth than I felt. ‘He is a tough old sailor, is he not? He sailed in the Royal Navy before he was king. And you wouldn’t be alone in any case. Lehzen and I will come with you, if you will have us, and in due course you will marry.’

  ‘Marry.’ Her eyes turned away and roamed back out of the window, towards the trees. ‘They all want me to marry,’ she said. ‘But I have met the only man I could ever marry, and he is gone away.’

  It pained me to think of Uncle Leopold’s plan for Victoria and Albert, but I could not resist the chance of mentioning his name. ‘But you know your cousin Albert is your uncle’s choice. Have you changed your mind at all?’ I closed my eyes as if they were tired while I waited for her answer. I did not want her to be able to read my expression.

  ‘Well, he’s perfectly nice,’ she conceded. ‘But he’s too quiet. He likes going to bed too early. Do you know what, Miss V? He reminds me of you. You’re good for me; he’d be good for me; I know that. But I don’t always want things that are good for me. Sometimes I want things that are BAD.’

  She was right about Albert’s love of early hours. When in recent weeks Victoria had been ragging and raging late at night and insisting that we should all stay up late, I had often wished that Albert had been there with his quiet, clever way of breaking up the party and allowing everyone else to retire. I had seen for myself that he had a knack of persuading her to do the thoughtful and sensible thing without the usual dramatic scenes.

  ‘But, Victoria!’ I could not help responding. ‘I’m not just like … medicine for you, am I? I’m not always such a prim little miss as you make out, you know.’

  ‘Oh yes, you are,’ she said. ‘Far too good to live on earth really. You ought truly to be an angel. You make me sit up straighter. But I still love you, you know, you dear old thing. We are like two old prisoners in a jail, are we not? We’re used to each other – after all, we’ve shared a cell for a long time now.’

  With that she threw an arm aro
und me and gave me a bold, smacking kiss. It was the sort of thing her mother did the whole time, but Victoria could somehow imbue such a light action with real warmth of feeling. When Jane had done this kind of thing, years ago, it had made me rigid with tension. But with Victoria it was easy to squeeze her back.

  ‘Ergh!’

  With one of her strange, wild swings of mood, she pushed me away, leaned her head forward between her knees and began tearing at her hair. ‘I wish I were an ordinary girl! With dozens of gentlemen calling upon me and asking my hand in marriage, and me refusing them all!’

  This was exactly the sort of thing that could damage her irreparably if anyone else heard her. ‘Oh, nonsense,’ I said. ‘Your uncle will choose well for you. And come on, it’s time to dress.’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I won’t dress. I don’t want to go to the stupid dinner with all those stupid, stuffy courtiers. You must go in my place.’

  ‘Victoria!’ I cried. ‘Don’t be silly. Come on, you really must pull yourself together.’

  ‘Pull yourself together, behave properly, that’s always, always the way, isn’t it?’ she said wildly. She began stripping off her dress, and was soon leaping about the room in her petticoat and pantaloons. ‘I’m not going,’ she shrieked. ‘I can’t go and sit there, good as gold, to be looked at. I really can’t. Honestly, Miss V, the only way I could get through it would be to take some of mother’s drops. Go and get them for me if you want me to go.’

  I stared at her aghast. Then she leapt into the enormous bed and buried her head under the pillow. She lay there, silent.

  I really was flummoxed. I was used to such displays, but at a time like this! With the king and his court waiting for us within the hour! I felt almost angry at her, as she placed me in a most trying position, but it was also tragic to see her so unhappy. What was I to do?

  As I stood there uncertainly, hoping that Victoria would change her mind, the duchess came bustling in. But she had as little success as I in making Victoria talk, let alone dress. Her hot temper was quickly roused, and she spoke sharply to Victoria in German.