“It is time to wake Victoria. The Duchess will still be sleeping, so be quiet.”
“Why doesn’t the Princess have her own room?” Liza asked. She wanted to see if the Baroness’s story matched the one she had heard in the servant’s hall. “After all, she’s nearly seventeen.”
“Victoria is our most precious jewel,” Lehzen said. “She is never alone.”
If the Princess was never alone, how was Liza to become her confidant? But at the moment she had a more urgent consideration: what was the proper distance for a lady’s maid to walk behind her employer?
6
In Which Liza Tries to Win the Affection of the Princess
Liza followed the Baroness through several antechambers until they entered a large bedroom with high ceilings and a beautiful marble fireplace. The room was warm and heavy with the cloying scent of flowers: Liza felt as though she was walking into a greenhouse. Although the room’s proportions were generous, it felt cramped. Glancing about, Liza understood why: there were two complete sets of furniture. Two writing desks. Two crystal jars of bonbons. Two wardrobes. Two ornate mahogany beds: one narrow and the other impossibly wide. Both were occupied. In her tiny bed, the Princess turned onto her stomach and groaned. The Duchess, a mask over her eyes, snored in hers.
A noise behind her made Liza whirl around. Dash, the Princess’s dog, slept in a miniature bed identical to the Princess’s. He too, was lying on his stomach, snoring.
“Prinzessin, it is time to rise,” the Baroness said.
“Not yet, Lehzen, just a few more minutes.”
The Princess burrowed into her thick feather pillow. Liza sighed as she remembered begging her mother for a little more time to sleep.
The Baroness would not be denied. “The future Queen must not be indolent.”
“‘Fie, you slugabed,’” Liza quoted.
The Baroness glared at Liza. “Did you just call the Princess a slug?”
“No, no…it’s from Romeo and Juliet,” Liza stammered. “The nurse says it to the heroine.”
From the bed came a muffled giggle. “At that point in the play, Liza, I do believe Juliet was dead. It’s not a very auspicious way to begin the day.”
Keeping her voice light, Liza replied, “O lamentable day!”
“Maybe not so much, now you are here,” Princess Victoria replied, a smile in her voice.
Her face creased with ill-temper, the Baroness scolded the Princess, “Victoria, a Princess does not joke with her maid.”
“Oh, Lehzen, don’t be tiresome.” The Princess sat up and stretched her arms wide.
“Liza, the lavender dressing gown from that wardrobe.” The Baroness pointed. The Princess had at least six dressing gowns in various colors, all exquisitely trimmed with ribbons, bows, and lace. The Baroness went to another closet to find matching embroidered slippers.
As soon as the Baroness’ back was turned, the Princess gave Liza a little wave. “I’m glad you stayed,” she said. “I’ve been very bored.”
Liza curtsied, feeling very daring. “I’ll do my best to amuse you, Your Highness.”
Dressed all in lavender, the Princess sat on a cushioned stool in front of her vanity table. The Baroness began to brush Victoria’s long fair hair with a tortoiseshell brush. “Eins, zwei, drei,” the Baroness counted.
Liza stood by, idle, except to wonder how many strokes the Baroness could possibly manage.
“Lehzen, surely fifty would be enough,” the Princess said, grimacing at her governess. “One hundred strokes every morning seems excessive.”
“Don’t be foolish, Vickelchen. Your hair is your best feature.”
Liza suspected this was a conversation repeated every morning.
Small wonder she is so bored.
When the Baroness reached fifty, she stopped brushing to knead her arthritic fingers.
Liza reached out. “Baroness, I can help.”
The Baroness struck Liza’s hand hard with the back of the brush. “I am the only one who brushes the Princess’s hair.”
Rubbing her stinging hand, Liza choked on her indignation. Never in all her life had she been struck. She glanced up at her reflection in the mirror. This girl, with sad, green eyes and red cheeks like splashes of paint on her pale skin, was a stranger.
Victoria gave Liza a small sympathetic smile. To her own surprise, Liza’s spirits rose.
The Princess’s morning toilette complete, the Baroness led the way to the schoolroom, where she had interviewed Liza the day before.
At the top of the narrow stairs, the Princess stopped and held out her arm.
Liza paused, unsure what to do. “Your Highness?” she asked.
“Take my arm,” the Princess said, her face scarlet with mortification. “I’m not permitted to walk down the stairs alone.”
Sixteen years old and not permitted to descend stairs alone?
“Victoria, you cannot take the slightest risk,” the Baroness said over her shoulder.
Liza took the Princess’s arm, trying to convey her support and sympathy with her eyes.
A solitary breakfast sat waiting for Victoria on the school table. While the Princess wolfed down her eggs and sausages, Liza stood in the corner trying not to think about food.
“Victoria, don’t gobble your breakfast,” the Baroness said, sipping her second cup of unsweetened tea.
“But it’s delicious.” Victoria shoved another sausage through her cupid’s bow lips.
“Princesses should not be greedy. It reflects badly on their upbringing—and on their waistline.”
The Princess put down her last sausage, gazing at it longingly. Liza stared too; her breakfast had been flavorless porridge and lukewarm tea. Her stomach made a long growling sound. The Princess giggled.
“Liza, why don’t you have the sausage?” Liza stepped forward, only to be stopped short by the Baroness’s scandalized expression.
“Victoria, what are you thinking? Your maid cannot eat with you!”
Liza slunk back to the corner.
“I don’t see why I can’t give away my own breakfast,” the Princess muttered.
Click-clack. The Duchess arrived, dressed in an elaborate morning gown of mauves and pinks in a riotous bouquet of bows and silk flowers.
“Good morning, Victoria.”
“Good morning, Mama.”
“I expect to hear good reports from your tutors. What are you doing today?” The Duchess looked at Baroness Lehzen who answered quickly.
“The customary schedule, Your Grace. At half past nine, geography, at half past ten, history, and the rites of the Church of England at half past eleven.”
The Princess sighed. “I hate the Kensington System. It is the bane of my existence. Why can’t Sir John ever let me rest?”
The Duchess frowned. “Sir John and I have designed the Kensington System to prepare you for your destiny. Parliament and the bishops think very highly of it.”
“But, Mama,” the Princess wailed, “I never have any time to myself. I never have any fun.”
“Time enough to have fun when you are grown, with the responsibilities of the nation on your shoulders.”
Liza noted the Princess accepted the Duchess’s ridiculous reasoning without question.
“Mama, you get to visit friends and go into town. Why can’t I? I’m sixteen!”
“Victoria, your ingratitude pierces my heart. After all the sacrifices I’ve made for you!” The Duchess waited, tapping her foot, but the Princess only sighed. Finally, the Duchess nodded to Lehzen to continue the schedule.
“At two o’clock,” the Baroness said in a monotone, “arithmetic, and at three o’clock, languages: Greek and Latin, followed by an hour of conversation in French.”
“Excellent. Work hard, my dear. I must dress to visit the Duchess of Northumberland.” With more click-clacks, the Duchess was gone. The Princess stuck her tongue out at her retreating back.
“Victoria!” the Baroness scolded. “What a rascal you are
!”
“I’m sorry.” The Princess glanced at Liza. “Tell me Lehzen, I study so many languages, why not German?”
The Baroness shook her head. “The people do not want a German Queen; they want a British one.”
“The Queen’s guests will speak the language she, I mean I, choose.”
“All the more reason to be gracious. Queen Elizabeth spoke six languages.”
“But who wants to be like Elizabeth? So mannish. And she had black teeth.” The Princess ran her tongue delicately over her small teeth. “No wonder she never married.”
“They named an entire age after her,” said the Baroness with a sidelong smile. “You should be so fortunate!”
“A Victorian age. It has distinction,” murmured the Princess. “It’s a good thing they didn’t change my name. Liza, did you know last year it was proposed in Parliament that my name be changed to Charlotte after my dead aunt. But it came to nothing.” Victoria giggled. “Imagine, a Charlottian age!”
“Victorian is much better,” Liza agreed.
Dabbing the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin, the Princess smiled.
“Victoria,” the Baroness began. “Don’t—”
“Be familiar. I know, Lehzen.”
After breakfast Princess Victoria’s school day began. Geography with Reverend Davys came first. The reverend was a bald elderly man, with one tuft of soft white hair on his chin. At first Liza thought his face seemed stern, but then she noticed the laugh wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He was not smiling this morning, however; the Princess had not learned her capital cities.
“Princess, what is the capital of Spain?” he asked.
Madrid.
“Lisbon!” the Princess said.
“Princess, no, it’s Madrid,” the reverend said. “Of which country is Lisbon the capital?”
The Princess put her hands on her hips. “Obviously, I thought it was Spain.”
“Princess, lack of preparation is not an excuse for rudeness.”
Liza was impressed; this reverend was not overawed by the Princess’s rank.
“What does it matter?” the Princess asked, shrugging her shoulders. “Spain hasn’t been important in centuries.”
“It may become so again. And in any case, Lisbon is not the capital of Spain.” The Reverend beckoned to Liza, “Maid, fetch an atlas so Her Highness can look it up herself.”
Liza placed the atlas on the table. Princess Victoria was pouting and barely looked up.
“Portugal,” Liza mouthed.
“What did you say?”
Liza widened her eyes, trying to warn the Princess.
“Liza, speak up,” the Princess insisted.
“Portugal,” Liza said in a low voice.
Reverend Davys appeared behind Liza’s shoulder. “So, Princess, your maid’s grasp of European geography is better than your own?” he asked with a hint of humor in his voice.
The Princess turned an annoyed look on Liza.
“Your Highness, I was just trying to help,” Liza said.
The reverend said, “Perhaps a little friendly rivalry is just the thing for you, Princess. I wonder I never thought of it before. Why don’t we play a game?”
The Princess, her miff forgotten, clapped her hands. “I love games; I am very good at them.”
With a slight smile, the reverend said, “I’ll call out the country, and you girls can compete to answer first. Egypt.”
“Casablanca,” shouted the Princess.
“Cairo,” Liza said.
“One to the maid,” said the Reverend. “France.”
“I know that one! Paris,” said the Princess.
“The score is tied,” he said. “Russia.”
“Moscow!” crowed Victoria.
“St. Petersburg,” corrected Liza.
“Two for the maid.”
“Bother, Liza. How do you know all this?” the Princess asked. She stood up and stalked to the window, her arms clasped across her chest. Liza stared after her, dismayed her future Queen was acting like a sulky child.
The reverend murmured to Liza, “It would be prudent to remember Her Highness does not like to lose.” He looked at the clock on the mantle, and said, “Princess, my time is up. I will see you tomorrow.”
Victoria pointedly did not acknowledge his departure.
Liza hurried to Princess Victoria’s side. “Princess, please don’t be offended. I’ve been to many of those cities. My father traveled for his business and my mother and I often accompanied him.”
“How interesting for you,” the Princess said coolly. “I, on the other hand, have never been anywhere. My duty traps me on this island.”
“My traveling days are behind me,” Liza said. She had played on the Princess’s sympathies once before; she’d do so again to regain her goodwill. “Since my family is gone, I shall never go anywhere interesting again.”
The Princess’s stiff posture softened a little.
“But when you are Queen,” Liza obliged the Princess’s obvious preference to talk about herself, “there will be no limit to the places you can go.”
The Princess brightened.
That was the right thing to say.
“But even when I am Queen, my mother will be ruling for me. Over me. Instead of me. She won’t let me go anywhere,” the Princess retorted.
“But after the regency…“ Liza said, wondering how the Princess would react to the news her mother wanted to be her daughter’s regent forever.
“Then I can do as I like.” The Princess positively glowed. “Where should I go first? Have you really been to St. Petersburg? Is it beautiful?”
“Very beautiful, but the most interesting thing was the Beliye Nochi, the White Nights,” Liza said. “In June, the sky doesn’t ever darken. Even at midnight, it’s still bright. Everyone stays up all night and goes to parties.”
“That sounds so amusing! Last year I danced with Tsar Alexander. He was very charming.” The Princess clapped her hands. “And I love staying up late, but I never get to stay up past ten o’clock. Even if Mama is out late, I have to go to bed and Lehzen stays with me.”
“The Baroness told me you were never left alone,” Liza said, “But I thought she must be exaggerating.”
The Princess shook her head. “No. It’s true. I’m never ever alone.”
“But that’s dreadful!” Liza couldn’t help herself. “Every girl, even a Princess, if I may be so bold, deserves a little privacy.”
“It’s for my own safety,” the Princess said, as if it were a lesson learned by rote. “Sir John tells my mother there are assassins behind every tree in Hyde Park.”
“The danger may be much closer to home,” Liza said, with a deliberate air of mystery.
The Princess looked alert. “Whatever do you mean?”
“There are secrets in this house that even Sir John doesn’t know.” Liza dropped her voice to a whisper. “But I could find out for you.”
“Really? That would be marvelous because no one tells me anything. And it would be quite a feather in my cap to know something Sir John does not.”
“We must meet in private and I’ll tell you everything I have discovered.” Liza went to the door. She could hear footsteps, the Baroness was returning. “Not here. Come to my room tonight at midnight, Your Highness.”
“Liza, haven’t you been listening?” The Princess’s face was full of frustration. “I can’t!”
Baroness Lehzen was almost at the door. Liza whispered, “Wait until they fall asleep. Do you know where my room is?”
Princess Victoria nodded.
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I’ll come tonight if I can.”
Liza smiled. Her plan was working.
10 April 1836 Excerpt from the Journal of Her Royal Highness Victoria
I would give millions to behold but for a day, Brussels, Paris, Germany, Italy & Spain and envy all those who do. Perhaps another who was compelled to travel would long to be
bound as I am to my native soil! But enough of these reflections & let me think of what I have and how grateful I ought to be for all God has given me.
7
In Which Liza Strikes Two Bargains
Liza had risen at six o’clock in the morning and now it was half past ten at night. Repeatedly during the Princess’s evening toilette and another one hundred strokes of her hairbrush, Princess Victoria had shot Liza meaningful glances. I will be there, her face seemed to say. Liza wasn’t convinced the Princess could escape her adult guards, but if she did, Liza needed to be prepared. It was time to find the broadsheet.
I’m ready for my first spying mission.
Liza opened her door and listened for anyone stirring. Claridge’s Hotel had gas lights in the corridors, but Kensington Palace’s halls were pitch dark. Holding her candle in front of her, she tiptoed to the narrow servants’ stairs. The light of the candle threw monsterlike shadows on the walls. She reached out to the rough plaster to guide her down the uneven steps. She stumbled and only saved herself by wrenching her body upright on the step.
Why don’t the servants get banisters?
At the green baize door, Liza hesitated before opening it. Now she was truly committed.
She hurried to the Duchess’s sitting room. The room seemed much larger at night. Apart from her flickering candle, the only light came from the remnants of a coal fire behind the iron grate and the moonlight shining in through the windows. She went to one of the windows to savor Kensington Gardens bathed in moonshine. A draught from the ill-fitting windowpane extinguished her candle. Irritated, Liza riffled in her pocket for a lucifer to relight it.
She froze when she heard a rustling inside the wall behind her. The slight noise came from a wood box built into the wall, a vestige of the old days when wood fires, not coal, heated the Palace. The sound was too loud to be a mouse. She backed away until she felt the corner walls against her back. The lid of the wood box lifted slowly and soundlessly. Liza caught her breath.
Ghosts!
Then, in the dim light, she made out a head of wild black hair atop a pale white face. The boy, for now she saw it was young boy, climbed out of the box. Liza watched him reach under the settee and begin feeling about. With a small exclamation, he found a pearl Liza had missed the day before. His smile gleamed in the light as he rubbed the pearl against his front tooth.
Prisoners in the Palace Page 6
