There was another massive jolt to the carriage, and Leopold could not hold his tongue any longer. “I don’t understand what you and Victoria were doing this morning. You were gone for hours and then you returned with nothing. Nothing! I can hardly believe you are a Coburg. Why, Ernst would have taken her to bed by now.”
Sitting next to Albert, Ernst frowned at his uncle. He could see his brother’s unhappiness and did not want him to make it worse. “You forget, Uncle, that it is Victoria who must decide whether they are to be married, not Albert. It is not an easy position for him.”
“Nonsense! You know as well as I do that women are like thoroughbreds; they must be handled with care, but once you know how to stroke them in the right way they will do anything you want.”
“But a queen is not an ordinary woman,” said Ernst.
“All women are the same, in my experience. When I met Charlotte, she was not a queen, it is true, but she was heir to the throne, and she proposed to me after only three days. Of course, I was a very fine-looking young man, but so is Albert. Perhaps I was more charming, but Albert could be that too, if only he would set his mind to it.”
There was a thwack as Albert slammed his hand against the carriage window. “Enough!” He turned to Leopold, his eyes blazing. “This is my future, not yours, and I have decided to go back to Coburg.”
Leopold was about to reply, but a look from Ernst stopped him. Perhaps it would be better to let his brother reason with Albert; they were so close, after all. So he settled back into his seat, pulled his hat over his eyes, and tried to make the interminable journey go faster by going to sleep.
* * *
Victoria’s coach was the first to arrive at the palace. Still carrying Dash, Victoria went straight up to her bedroom and let it be known that she would not be coming down for dinner.
She lay on the bed with Dash beside her, running her hands over the spaniel’s silky ears. “Oh Dash, why is everything so difficult?” Her injured dog licked her hand in reply.
She stared at the gilded cartouches on the ceiling. That morning in the woods she had felt so close to Albert; when he had told her about his mother, she had wanted to embrace him and tell him that she would make that hurt disappear. But then—she squirmed with the injustice of it—he had made that unreasonable attack upon Lord M, a man he hardly knew. She could not bear it. How could she offer her heart to Albert if he could not understand how much Melbourne meant to her? She twisted Dash’s ear in frustration, and the little dog yelped.
“Oh, sorry, my darling Dashy. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She saw the improvised splint made from Albert’s shirt and remembered his white skin gleaming in the pale November light.
The door opened, and Lehzen walked in, her eyes wide with drama. “I am sorry to disturb you, Majesty, but the Princes’ valet has been asking about the sailings from Dover. I thought I should tell you that they were leaving. But perhaps you already knew?”
Victoria shook her head. Albert was leaving? She put her hand over her eyes.
Lehzen sat down on the bed beside her and put her arm around her. “It is for the best, Majesty. I think that Prince Albert does not show you enough respect.”
Victoria pulled away from her. “You know nothing about it, Lehzen. And now I should like to be left alone. I have a headache.”
“A headache, Majesty? Shall I fetch Sir James?”
“Stop fussing! Can’t you see I just want to be left in peace!”
Lehzen picked up her skirts and fled.
* * *
In the Princes’ sitting room in the north wing, Albert was throwing his books into a trunk, relishing the thud as they hit the bottom. Ernst came in and, seeing what his brother was doing, threw up his hands in exasperation.
“You are being childish, Albert. You can’t just leave because you and Victoria had a squabble.”
Albert threw an English dictionary into his trunk with particular vehemence. He looked up at his brother. “Victoria and I are not suited. This marriage is convenient to everyone except us.”
Ernst came to stand between his brother and the trunk so that Albert was forced to look at him. He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You say that, but you like her, Albert, I know you do, and she likes you. She blushes when she looks at you.”
Albert threw off his brother’s hand. “I think Victoria likes many people. Lord Melbourne, for example.”
Ernst shook his head and said slowly, “You are jealous of Lord Melbourne? He is old enough to be her father.”
“But she smiles at him in a way that is not correct. Perhaps she cannot marry him, but I will not be second best.”
Ernst sighed and gripped Albert by both shoulders. “Believe me, Albert, I have seen the way Victoria looks at you. You will never be second best. Perhaps there was a little girl who liked her Lord Melbourne, but Victoria is a woman now, and she likes you, not some old man.”
Albert looked at him, then went to the bed and picked up his coat.
“Where are you going now?”
Albert turned round. “To have my daguerreotype taken. I should like to have one souvenir of my visit.”
“Then I shall come with you. I too would like a souvenir, and I believe there are a few young ladies who would not be sorry to have my likeness.”
“Women! That is all you think about.”
“They are not the enemy, Albert,” Ernst said, laughing. Catching sight of Albert’s face, he hesitated and continued in a different tone. “You know I saw her once, after she left.”
Albert looked at him. “Mama?”
“Yes. We were playing in the park in Coburg. It had been snowing, I remember, and we were throwing snowballs at each other. When I was running after you, I looked up and saw her on the terrace that overlooks the gardens on the town side. She was all bundled up and wearing a veil, but I knew at once it was her. I ran up to the terrace, but you can’t get to the town side from the palace, so all I could do was stand there and wave. She waved back, not a big wave but a little one like this”—he lifted his hand in a small, sad gesture—“and then she lifted her veil.” Ernst stopped and swallowed before continuing. “Her face was wet, Albert. I have never forgotten those tears.” He put his fingers to his nose, trying to hold back his own emotion.
“Why did you never tell me before?”
“I don’t know. I thought it would be easier for you to forget her if you didn’t know. And I wanted to protect you. But now I see that I was wrong. She didn’t want to leave us, Albert, but she had no choice. You know what Papa is like. This was her only chance of life. And I know she would have taken us with her if she could.”
Albert stared at the ground, biting his lip.
“She loved us, Albert, so much. And it broke her heart to leave us. If you had seen her face that day.”
Albert looked up. “Why did she never write?”
“I am sure she did, but do you think Papa would allow us to read those letters?”
Albert was trembling. Ernst put his arms around him and held him tightly. “Not all women leave, Albert.”
He felt his brother’s chest heave with emotion, and then the panting breaths as he said, “I … wish … I … could … be … sure.”
Ernst relaxed his grip and held his brother at arm’s length so that he could see his face. “You know so much more than me about everything, but on women I am the authority. I can tell you that Victoria loves you, Albert. If you marry her, and I hope so much that you will, she will never ever leave you. Perhaps you will find diversions,” he saw Albert’s face, “or maybe not; you are not like me. But Victoria will not waver. You have the chance to be happy, little brother, and for my sake alone, you must take it.”
* * *
When Alfred Paget told him that he had left the Queen with Prince Albert in the Great Park, Melbourne had ordered his carriage. He knew that he should stay to hear them announce their engagement, but he found he could not bear to. He had gone straight to the House and fr
om there to his club. He had lost a good deal of money at whist, a loss he found mordantly pleasing as it disproved the adage about being unlucky at cards, lucky in love. He was, it seemed, unlucky in everything. He was half-cut when he finally got back to Dover House.
His valet found him in the morning stretched on the sofa in the library, surrounded by papers and texts written in ancient Greek, a language that the valet had come to recognise in his ten years of working for Lord Melbourne. The valet slid the coffee under his master’s nose, knowing from experience that its smell was the way of waking him that had the least violent results.
Melbourne stirred and blearily reached for the coffee. “Has anything come from the Queen?”
The valet shook his head. “But I understand that the royal household came back to London last night, my lord.”
Melbourne put his cup down in surprise. “The Queen is at the palace?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“But there has been no letter from her.”
“No, my lord.”
Melbourne was silent. He had expected Victoria to write to him at once to announce her engagement. She was not someone who liked, or was indeed capable of, keeping things to herself. But perhaps she was waiting to tell him in person.
He drained the last of the coffee and forced his creaking limbs to stand up. His head throbbed, and he felt a wave of nausea, perhaps the result of the excesses of the night before, but also dread at what was to come. Still, if nothing else, he knew his duty.
“I must go to the palace. Do what you can to make me look presentable.”
The valet bowed his head in sympathy; no man could keep a secret from this particular valet. “I will do my utmost, my lord.”
An hour later, Melbourne, clean-shaven and bedecked in linen so fiercely starched it dug into the flesh of his neck, was walking up the grand staircase of Buckingham Palace. He saw Lehzen coming towards him and looked at her face for some clue as to the engagement, but the Baroness’s face was demure as usual, her eyes cast down, her lips faintly pursed.
“Good morning, Baroness.”
Lehzen gave him a modest curtsey.
“I must say I was surprised to find the Queen at the palace today. I rather thought that she would stay at the castle a while longer.” He raised an eyebrow. “To indulge her new passion for trees.”
The Baroness gave him a humourless smile. “I do not think that she found anything very agreeable in the forest, Lord Melbourne.”
“I see. Thank you, Baroness.” Melbourne found himself almost running to the top of the stairs.
He saw at once from the set of Victoria’s shoulders that Lehzen had been right. Whatever had happened between the Queen and her cousin in the Great Park, it had not been a proposal of marriage.
“Good morning, ma’am.”
As he bent over her outstretched head he said brightly, “I have good news. The army has reached Kabul without opposition.”
“That is splendid,” Victoria said without a trace of enthusiasm.
Melbourne saw with a pang that her eyes were red and swollen from weeping. But he carried on in the same bright tone, hoping she might respond to him. “At least the army will have somewhere to spend the winter. I confess that I have been most uneasy. The Khyber Pass is uncommon cold, I hear, and while every army must bear its losses, they should not be vanquished by the weather.”
Victoria’s eyes remained dull; she was looking at him but he knew that she did not see him. Taking a deep breath, he said in a gentler tone, “Forgive me, ma’am, but is there something wrong?”
She turned away from him and said in a clipped voice, “The Princes are going back to Coburg.”
Melbourne clasped his hands in front of him. “I see. And you would rather they stayed?”
Victoria whirled round, her face animated at last. “No! Well, maybe.” She was looking directly at Melbourne now, and he could see the confusion in her eyes as well as the desire. “Albert is so difficult!”
He hesitated before replying. This was the decisive moment. He could push just a little, and the clockwork prince would scuttle back to his tinpot kingdom. He and Victoria could resume their easy relationship. She would have her Lord M by her side, and he, well, he would be as content as he had ever been.
As this vision of the future shimmered before him, he said cautiously, “You have very different temperaments. The Prince strikes me as a man who enjoys his own company, and indeed his own opinions.”
He saw at once that she was not listening to his words, and the vision of them walking arm in arm through the palace gardens vanished.
Victoria blurted it out. “He thinks I am too friendly with you.”
He felt it like a blow to his chest, and it was a moment before he could reply. “And what do you think?”
Victoria turned her head this way and that, as if she were trying to shake off a fly. At last she looked at him and said, “I don’t know. Albert always looks at me as if I have done something wrong.”
Melbourne waited for her next words, his heart hammering in his chest.
“But even so…” Her eyes were imploring. “I would like him to smile at me.”
Melbourne knew what she was asking for. Willing himself to speak as lightly as he had always done, he said, “The Prince does not smile very often.” He forced himself to continue. “But if you want him to smile at you, ma’am … then I don’t see how he can resist.”
The smile erupted across her face. “Do you really think so, Lord M?”
“I do, ma’am.” Her eyes were shining, and before Melbourne could stop himself he said, “Only a fool would turn you away, after all.”
With a small, rapid gesture, she took his hand and squeezed it. They looked at each other for a long moment, the air between them full of all the things that could never be said, and then she dropped his hand and ran out of the room.
As he stood on the palace steps waiting for his carriage to be brought round, Melbourne saw the unmistakable figures of the Princes with their newfangled frock coats walking through the Marble Arch.
The carriage pulled up; the footman was already pulling down the steps. Melbourne was about to step in and avoid an encounter with the Princes, until he thought of what Albert had said to Victoria and knew where his duty lay.
“Good morning, Your Serene Highnesses.”
Albert’s nod of acknowledgment could not have been stiffer if he had really been made of clockwork, thought Melbourne, but he persevered. “I am just on my way to the House, and I remember, sir,” he looked at Albert, “that you expressed your desire to see it.”
Albert tried to hide his surprise. “That is correct. It is a British institution that I admire greatly. But I think you told me, Lord Melbourne, that I would have to go—how did you put it—” He glared at Melbourne. “—incognito?”
Melbourne did not flinch, but smiled back. “I think, sir, that under my protection you will be safe even from the most uncouth Tories.”
As Albert hesitated, Melbourne looked at Ernst. “Won’t you persuade your brother to come, sir? I think he would find it most enlightening.”
He caught Ernst’s eye and saw, to his relief, a flicker of comprehension. Really, these brothers could not be more different.
“We shall certainly come. You are always talking, Albert, about the place where tyranny was banished. I would like to see it even if you don’t.”
Albert shifted from foot to foot, torn between his hostility to Melbourne and his desire to see the Mother of Parliaments. “But we have so much to do if we are to leave tomorrow.”
“Nonsense,” said Ernst. “It is not as if we have a pressing appointment in Coburg. I think they will manage without us quite well for another day or even two.”
Albert’s eyes slid over to Melbourne, who gave his blandest smile.
“It is true that I wish very much to see your Parliament. If it would not be too great an inconvenience, Lord Melbourne, then I shall accept your kind offer.” This
little speech came out painfully, as if squeezed out of him by a giant hand, but Melbourne pretended not to notice and gestured affably towards his carriage.
“Please join me, and I will tell you something of the history along the way.”
* * *
Victoria had spent the hours since her interview with Melbourne trying to avoid her mother. She very much did not want to talk to her about Albert. She thought the picture gallery would be the safest place, as the Duchess had no reason to go there, but to her dismay she heard her mother’s voice coming from the staircase. She turned to go the other way and saw that Leopold was coming towards her. Trapped between two Coburgs, she resigned herself to the inevitable lecture.
“Oh, Drina, there you are.” The Duchess waved her hands so that her ringlets fluttered in the breeze of her own making. “Albert and Ernst are going back to Coburg.” She put her head on one side, and said plaintively, “I was so happy with them here.”
Leopold came to stand in front of Victoria. “And they are leaving with no engagement.”
Victoria lifted her chin and caught a glimpse of Elizabeth I over her uncle’s shoulder. “Albert is not a British subject. I could not stop him going even if I wanted to.”
Leopold shrugged and his hand wandered to his toupee as if to check that at least one thing was in its rightful place. “Of course you can stop him. All you have to do is propose.”
“Oh, is that all? I am afraid, Uncle, that it is not so easy.” To her horror she found her voice was not steady.
Leopold looked at her in surprise. “But why not?”
Victoria looked at the floor and then back at her uncle, holding his gaze until the Duchess broke in. “Yes, why not, Victoria? I know it is not the custom for ordinary women to propose, but you are a queen and it must come from you. Why do you hesitate?”
The sound of her mother’s voice made Victoria snap, so that she spoke without thinking. “Because I am not sure he will say yes.”
Victoria Page 37
