Victoria

by Daisy Goodwin

  “Your Imperial Highness, there is a messenger from Petersburg.”

  “Tell him to wait. I am dancing with the Queen.”

  “I believe it is urgent, sir.”

  Alfred, whose lissome figure disguised surprising strength, put his arm on the Grand Duke’s shoulder and firmly steered him away from Victoria and out of the room.

  “You seem to be without a partner, ma’am. Would you do me the honour?”

  Victoria turned round at the sound of Melbourne’s voice. Her face lifted into a smile.

  “I would be delighted.”

  The band was now playing a waltz, and as Melbourne put his hand on her waist, Victoria felt safe for the first time that evening.

  “I was worried that you weren’t coming.”

  “I had some matters to attend to.”

  “I thought perhaps you might be cross with me.”

  “With you, ma’am? Never.” Melbourne looked down at her tenderly.

  “You dance very well, Lord M.”

  “I am glad to hear it, ma’am, but I think you are being kind. I am afraid my dancing days are almost over.”

  “That’s not true. You are my favourite partner tonight.”

  Melbourne gave a theatrical sigh. “Nevertheless, I am too old to dance as I used to.”

  “You are not old, Lord M!”

  Melbourne looked over Victoria’s shoulder and saw the trio of Conroy, the Duchess, and Lady Flora staring at them.

  “At the risk of being thrown into the Tower, I must contradict you there, ma’am. I cannot deny my advancing years, even to please you.”

  Victoria laughed. “Well, I never think there is any difference between us, Lord M.”

  The music came to an end, and Melbourne let go of Victoria’s hand and bowed. “Ah, here is Lord Alfred for the next dance.”

  Victoria looked reluctant. “But I want to dance with you. I have so much to tell you.”

  “He will be very disappointed if you refuse him, ma’am. And besides, he dances the best polka in the country.”

  Melbourne slipped away as Lord Alfred came forward to claim the Queen.

  One polka succeeded another, and by the end Victoria was breathless and thirsty. Lord Alfred brought her a glass of champagne; she drank it greedily and asked for another.

  She was about to drink that when she heard an unwelcome voice. “Excuse me, ma’am.” Victoria spun round to see the sallow, disapproving face of Lady Flora Hastings. “But the Duchess thinks that perhaps you have had enough champagne.”

  Swaying slightly, Victoria locked eyes with Lady Flora and said, a little too loudly, “Mama sent YOU, to tell me what to do!”

  The band had stopped playing, and so her words rang out across the ballroom. There was a frozen moment as Lady Flora looked at her in incomprehension, then her face crumpled at this public humiliation. She turned and stumbled out of the ballroom. As a deep sigh ran round the guests, Victoria stood transfixed, angry, and afraid. She felt for the first time a wave of something like disapproval. There was a voice in her ear.

  “It is very hot in here,” said Melbourne. “Perhaps you would care to step out onto the balcony, ma’am, and get some air.”

  She felt his hand under her elbow and was grateful for the support. She was a little unsteady on her feet. When they stepped out onto the balcony, she felt the cool night air on her face like a blessing.

  Melbourne turned towards her. “You look a trifle fatigued, ma’am, if I may say so. Perhaps it is time that you retired.”

  “But I don’t want to retire. I want to go on dancing, with you!”

  Victoria leant in towards him. Melbourne put out his hands as if afraid she would fall, and for an instant they stood in a half embrace. And then he leant back and said softly, “Not tonight, ma’am.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Dash picked up the ball and brought it back to Victoria. When she threw it again, the ball landed at the feet of the Duchess, who had just entered the gallery. The Duchess kicked it out of her way.

  Victoria paused. She had summoned her mother to challenge her about Lady Flora and Conroy, but now that the Duchess was in front of her, she did not quite know how to approach the subject.

  “Did you sleep well, Drina, after the ball?” The Duchess looked at her daughter with meaning.

  Victoria was about to reply when Dash brought the ball back, barking. She stooped and picked it up. She decided that she must plunge straight in.

  “Mama, you must send Flora Hastings and Sir John Conroy away immediately. I have reason to believe that they have been involved in a…” She took a deep breath. “A criminal conversation.”

  The Duchess, who had been walking down the gallery toward her, stopped in amazement. “Are you losing your mind, Drina? What is this nonsense you are saying?” The Duchess opened her large blue eyes and shook her head like a baffled china doll.

  “Surely you have noticed that Lady Flora is with child?” said Victoria.

  “With child?” The Duchess’s voice was incredulous.

  “Yes, Mama. And I believe Sir John to be responsible.”

  The Duchess shook herself, and to Victoria’s surprise and annoyance she smiled. “What are you saying? Who told you this ridiculous thing?”

  Victoria said angrily, “Baroness Lehzen told me that they shared a carriage from Scotland together six months ago.”

  The Duchess laughed in her daughter’s face. “The Baroness told you? She knows so much about what goes on between a man and a woman, of course.”

  Victoria squeezed the ball in her hand. She wanted very much to throw it at her mother. “I cannot allow this … this corruption to invade my court.”

  The Duchess tossed her blonde ringlets. “Really, Drina, I would advise you not to listen to gossip. It is not becoming in a queen.” Turning her back on Victoria, she walked away down the long corridor.

  Without thinking, Victoria threw the ball at her mother’s departing back, but her aim was off and she hit a Meissen vase given to her by the Elector of Saxony. It shattered with a resounding crash. Thrilled by all the excitement, Dash started to bark.

  Victoria found herself shaking with fury. She had thought her mother might be upset, might indeed be angry, but this contemptuous dismissal was worse than anything she had imagined. She would not be brushed off. If her mother would not accept the truth, then she would have no choice but to prove it.

  She confided her plan to Melbourne on their ride that day.

  “Sir John and Lady Flora? You cannot be in earnest, ma’am.”

  “Indeed I am, Lord M. The Baroness says that they shared a carriage from Scotland together, quite alone. Tomorrow I am to take the Coronation Oath. How can I swear to serve my people faithfully when my own household is tainted by corruption? They must both leave court at once.”

  Melbourne sighed. “You don’t know that it is true, ma’am, and I would beware of making accusations, as Lady Flora has powerful friends. Her brother, Lord Hastings, is the leader of the Tories in the Lords, and he will not take kindly to having a scandal attached to his sister.”

  “How can I look Sir John in the face, knowing he has behaved so shamefully?”

  “I know you do not care for him, ma’am, but I think there are easier ways of dismissing him than accusing him of getting a child on Lady Flora.”

  “Even if it happens to be true?”

  “Think of the scandal, ma’am.”

  “Is that all you care about? Avoiding a scandal?”

  Melbourne paused, and a spasm of pain passed over his face. “I do know, ma’am, how difficult and painful a scandal can be.”

  Victoria said slowly, “So you think I should just do nothing.”

  “Much the best thing, ma’am. If your suspicions are correct, in a few months there will be no denying the evidence. Wait and see, ma’am, wait and see.”

  “But I must have the truth.”

  “The truth, in my opinion, is vastly overrated.”

  �
��You are, I believe, what is called a cynic, Lord Melbourne. But I am not.”

  Without waiting to hear Melbourne’s answer, she dug her heels into her horse’s side, urging it into a gallop, and did not look round until she reached the Marble Arch. Behind her was her groom and Lord Alfred, but there was no sign of Melbourne.

  Lord Alfred approached her. “Lord Melbourne has gone back to Dover House, ma’am. He sends his apologies and asked me to tell you that he feels he is too old to keep up.”

  Victoria frowned. “I see. He has never had this problem before.”

  Lord Alfred smiled. “You were going very fast, ma’am.”

  When she had changed out of her riding habit, Victoria asked Lehzen to fetch Sir James Clark, the court physician.

  “Are you ill, Majesty? Perhaps you are nervous on account of the coronation.”

  “I am perfectly well, thank you, Lehzen. No, I want Sir James to inquire as to Lady Flora’s state of health. Mama refuses to believe me, so the only answer is to have a medical examination.”

  Lehzen nodded. “Indeed, Majesty.”

  “You agree with me, then? That we must get to the bottom of this … this affair?”

  “If the Duchess will not believe you, then you must make certain, Majesty.”

  Victoria sighed. “Lord M thinks that I should do nothing.”

  Lehzen leant towards her. “Of course, Lord Melbourne has been leading a most irregular life in the past. Perhaps he does not care to condemn this behaviour.” Victoria heard the note of spite in Lehzen’s voice.

  “I think he does not care for scandal, but in this case Lord Melbourne is wrong.”

  She spoke more loudly than normal, as if trying to convince herself.

  Lehzen returned half an hour later with Sir James, who was as emollient as he was eminent. He had risen to the heights of his profession by his meticulous attentions to the late George IV—humouring every vagary of the King’s fancies about his health while refraining from pointing out the inconvenient truth that the sovereign’s habit of eating three grouse washed down with port for breakfast was perhaps the cause of his maladies. Sir John, whose bulbous and beveined nose suggested that he too did not refrain from the finer things of life, had long ago discovered that the most fashionable kind of doctor was one who listened with great attention to every symptom and gave them all due significance before dispensing a medicine that was as expensive as it was harmless.

  The doctor made Victoria a very low bow, which turned his already florid face even redder. “Your Majesty. How may I be of service? Do you require something to steady your nerves before the coronation? My patients of the fairer sex seem to find a tincture of laudanum most efficacious at such times.”

  Victoria raised her blue eyes to his bloodshot ones. “Do you have many patients, Sir James, who are about to be crowned in Westminster Abbey?”

  The doctor made a noise that could have been a laugh or a groan of apology. “You have the better of me, ma’am.”

  “But in answer to your question, I do not require your services myself. There is another … matter that I would like you to attend to.”

  Sir James raised a tufted eyebrow.

  Victoria began to walk up and down. It had all seemed so simple in her head, but now she found that she did not quite know how to broach the subject. “It has come to my attention, Sir James, that a certain lady may be in a … condition that is not compatible with her—” Victoria looked at Lehzen for assistance.

  “With her status, Majesty.”

  “Her status?” The doctor looked puzzled. “Ah, I see. You believe the lady to be in an interesting condition, without the benefit of marriage.”

  “Yes. I think she has been involved in a criminal conversation with a certain gentleman.”

  “A shrewd assumption, ma’am.”

  Victoria stopped pacing. “But I must have proof, Sir James.”

  The doctor swallowed. “Proof, ma’am?”

  “Yes. I want you to examine the lady.”

  Sir James pulled at his side-whiskers with a meaty hand. “May I enquire as to the lady’s identity?”

  It was Victoria’s turn to swallow. “Lady Flora Hastings.”

  There was a pause as Sir James considered this. The doctor was tugging at his whiskers so hard now he seemed likely to pull them out. “If I might venture to ask, does the Duchess know of your suspicions, ma’am?”

  “I have discussed the matter with my mother, but she is not disposed to believe me.”

  Sir James sighed. “I see. I must warn you, ma’am, that I anticipate some difficulty in effecting this examination. If Lady Flora is not willing, I can hardly force the issue.”

  “I imagine that a doctor of your experience would be able to ascertain the facts just by looking at her.”

  “You flatter me, ma’am. I find that in cases of this kind, it is very difficult to rely on the eye alone. So many other factors come into play—dress, digestion, even a particular way of standing. A sway-backed posture can be most deceptive.”

  Victoria tapped her foot impatiently. “I can assure you that this is not a question of posture, Sir James.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “I must know the truth, and I am asking you to find it out, Sir James.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The doctor looked as if he was about to say something else, but Victoria turned her back on him. When she had heard his footsteps retreating into the corridor, she turned to Lehzen. “You must tell the Lord Chamberlain that Sir John and Lady Flora are not to have cards for the coronation. I cannot have them there, in the circumstances.”

  Lehzen frowned. “I think, Majesty, that if you do this, then everyone will understand that you believe the scandal.”

  Victoria lifted her chin. “Exactly.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Duchess frowned when Sir James was announced. “I did not send for you, Sir James.”

  Sir James looked down at the floor and then at the ceiling, anywhere but at the Duchess and her companion. He cleared his throat noisily. “I have come, ma’am, at the request of the Queen.”

  The Duchess looked at Lady Flora, who was sitting beside her. The other woman closed her eyes and swayed slightly. “But no one is being ill here, Sir James, so I have no need of you.”

  Sir James shifted from foot to foot. “The Queen was most insistent, ma’am.” His eyes flicked over to Lady Flora.

  The Duchess bridled and, standing up, glared at the doctor. “There is nothing for you to do here. You may leave us.”

  Sir James twisted himself into a corkscrew of apology. “With respect, ma’am, I am afraid that I cannot do that. The Queen would like some information regarding Lady Flora.”

  The Duchess tried to laugh. “Does my daughter persist in this ridiculous fantasy? You may tell her that there is no more truth in it now than there was this morning.”

  Sir James said nothing, but did not move.

  Lady Flora lifted her head. “I will answer your questions, Sir James. I have nothing to hide.”

  But this answer did not relax the spiral into which the doctor had contorted himself. “I am afraid, Lady Flora, that the Queen is requesting an … examination. For the avoidance of doubt.”

  There was a gasp from the Duchess. “It is impossible! I will not permit such a thing. Drina has lost her mind.”

  But Lady Flora stepped in front of her mistress and addressed the doctor directly. “There are two things in life that I hold dear, Sir James. One is the Crown and the other is my faith. If the Queen thinks that I would do anything to bring either into disrepute, then I am willing to prove her wrong.”

  She paused for a second, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead in an impatient gesture. Then she steadied herself and looked Sir James in the eye. “But I insist on my own physician being present, Sir James”—the corners of her mouth flickered into the imitation of a smile—“for the avoidance of doubt.”

  The doctor was so eager to leave t
he room that he fell through the doors as they were opened by the footmen. It was a comical sight, but neither of the women in the room laughed.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  It was the sound that woke her. A soft susurration, as if a giant flock of wood pigeons had landed outside the palace. As she listened the noise began to break up, become more distinct. Individual voices seemed to break through, but the words floated away on the breeze before Victoria could catch them. At last one voice more piercing than the rest penetrated her sleep-befuddled brain. “God save the Queen,” it went, followed by others in a descant of celebration.

  Victoria jumped out of bed and went to the window. Beyond the Marble Arch she could see a heaving carpet of colour: flags, bonnets, upturned faces. There must be thousands of people out there. Her people, she thought, as she felt the breath coming out in a long, shuddering sigh. She had been Queen for a few months now, but today the responsibility pressed down upon her shoulders like a physical weight. Today she would swear the Coronation Oath, which had been sworn by the countless kings and the four queens who had preceded her.

  She thought of all those eyes in the abbey that would be looking at her. How many of them would be waiting for her to make a slip, to prove their suspicion that she was unworthy of the great office bestowed upon her? Victoria bit her lip, but then she put her shoulders back and lifted her chin. She would not make a mistake. She had been chosen for this role by a divine providence that had left her, the daughter of George III’s sixth child, heir to the throne. If her uncles had been less profligate, there would have been a dozen legitimate children between her and the throne, but they had been so distracted by the pleasures of the flesh that the crown had come to her. Victoria knew that there had been a reason for this, a divine purpose, and she was determined to prove worthy of it.

  Picking up a cushion for an orb and a parasol for a sceptre, she rehearsed the words of the oath. “By the grace of Almighty God, I, Victoria, do solemnly swear to serve my country.”

  Her voice sounded thin in the high-ceilinged room. She hoped that they would be able to hear her in the abbey. She thought of her uncles; with their loud, booming voices, it was easy for them to be heard. But as Lord M said, there is nothing wrong in talking quietly; it only makes people listen harder. Victoria smiled when she thought of her Prime Minister. He would be there today, of course, and she had made sure that he would be standing in her eye line. It was a pity that there had been that stupid disagreement in the park yesterday. But that would soon be resolved when Sir James had performed his examination.