It was very absorbing, but Victoria’s feelings were mixed as they came closer to London. It would be pleasant to be home again, she mused. Perhaps now that she was so travelled she would be allowed to go out more often; perhaps the next time the Queen invited her she would be permitted to accept the invitation. Thirteen was no longer so young.
And on a misty November day they came riding into Kensington. The Palace looked just the same as ever and the mist which hung about the trees in the park touched with a blue haziness moved her deeply. It was good to be home.
Lord Liverpool was there waiting to receive them and the Duchess said they should all dine together, including Victoria, which they did.
Almost before dinner was over the Princess Sophia left her apartments in the Palace to call. She embraced Victoria almost nervously. She seemed to have grown much older since they had been away. Ever since the resuscitated scandal about her illegitimate son had been the talk of the town she had grown furtive, as though she were wondering what would happen next.
She whispered to the Duchess that she had come to warn her.
‘Warn me!’ cried the Duchess imperiously. The last months of travel when she had demanded and received so many honours had made her more arrogant than ever.
‘His Majesty,’ whispered Sophia. ‘William …’
‘What of the King?’
‘He is not very pleased. He has said so often that you had no right to travel as though Victoria were already the Queen. He said he would have you remember that there is a King on the throne and the honours you insisted on are for the Sovereign alone.’
‘If,’ said the Duchess, her eyes flashing, her feathers shaking, ‘I were to borrow His Majesty’s own inelegant method of expressing himself I should say “Stuff!”’
Victoria was listening. Oh dear, so the King was angry. Mamma was wrong really. She had known that they should never have been treated as though they were the most important people in the country. Even Uncle William who, she secretly believed, was a very kind man indeed, would be angry.
‘I think Victoria is tired,’ said the Duchess.
‘Oh no, Mamma, I …’
‘You are longing for your bed, I know.’
‘Indeed not, Mamma. Why, at Chatsworth I was up until nearly twelve. Do you remember … the night of the charade …’
‘This,’ said the Duchess, ‘is not Chatsworth.’ She signed to one of her women. ‘Pray send for Lehzen.’
Lehzen arrived. She must have been waiting outside. She was never far away from Victoria.
‘Pray conduct the Princess to her room,’ said the Duchess. ‘It has been such a long, tiring day.’
Victoria said good night to Lord Liverpool, the Conroy girls and their father and to the Princess Sophia.
The Princess kissed her warmly. ‘Don’t you worry,’ she whispered. ‘The King will not blame you.’
‘I know, Aunt Sophia,’ she whispered back and then was ashamed because it was as though she were in a conspiracy against Mamma.
When she was in her bed she saw that it was only a quarter to nine.
She lay still watching Lehzen working on her sewing close to the candelabrum.
She felt angry. I am so tired of being treated like a child, she told herself. But let them wait …
Almost as soon as they reached home Christmas was with them and there was the excitement of buying and making Christmas presents and all the secrecy that went with it. Victoria was making a white bag for the Duchess under Lehzen’s guidance and it added a thrill to the days to have to thrust it out of sight whenever her mother approached. For Lehzen she was making a pin-cushion in white and gold which was very very pretty; and she had bought a pin with two gold hearts attached to it with which to ornament it. She knew that Lehzen would love it because the hearts were symbolic – hers and Lehzen’s. She believed she loved dear Lehzen best in the world next to Uncle Leopold and of course … Mamma. She believed she would love Aunt Adelaide if she were allowed to see her. Oh dear, now she was feeling angry again which one must not do at Christmas time.
Sir John, however, was behaving in a much more likeable way. For instance, a few days before Christmas Eve he came into the room where she was sewing with Lehzen and Flora Hastings looking excited and conspiratorial.
‘I want to share a secret with you,’ he told Victoria; and she could not help being excited at the thought of sharing a secret – even with Sir John.
He was carrying a little basket. ‘It is a present,’ he told her, ‘for the Duchess.’ And lifting the lid he disclosed a little dog.
Victoria cried out with pleasure. She loved animals and in particular dogs and horses.
‘But he is beautiful,’ she cried.
‘She,’ corrected Sir John, ‘is a present for the Duchess.’
‘Mamma will be delighted.’
‘I thought she would be. But I have to keep the little creature in hiding until Christmas Eve and I thought I would tell you of her existence just in case you discovered it. So …’ Sir John put his fingers to his lips.
Victoria, with a laugh, did the same.
‘What is her name?’
‘She hasn’t got one at the moment. Doubtless the Duchess will give her one.’
‘Oh, but you should say “This is …” whatever her name is. Everyone should have a name and the poor little mite can’t be nameless until Christmas.’
‘The Princess has spoken,’ said Sir John raising his eyes to the ceiling with one of those expressions Victoria disliked; but she was too excited about the dog to notice it now.
She thought: How I should love the darling to be named after me! But of course Mamma would never allow that because it would be undignified. She looked at Lehzen. Louise. No, that was not very suitable for a dog. But Flora …
‘I think Flora should be her name. You would not mind Lady Flora, if this dear little dog had the same name as you?’
Lady Flora, the most acquiescent of ladies, said that she would have no objection.
‘I name you … Flora,’ said Sir John in sepulchral tones like a Bishop at the christening of a royal infant which made Victoria laugh aloud. Sir John was studying her closely and looking rather pleased with himself.
When he had gone and Lehzen was restored to that equanimity which the presence of Sir John always seemed to destroy, Victoria said: ‘I have an idea. Besides her bag Mamma shall have a collar and a steel chain for Flora.’
Christmas Eve was the day for giving presents and the Duchess, like the Queen, liked to practise the German custom of decorating the rooms with fir trees. Victoria had found it difficult to get through the day because presents were given in the evening after dinner which as usual was taken with the Conroy family.
Afterwards the Duchess took them all to her drawing-room and there Victoria cried out with pleasure. There were two big tables and one or two little ones on all of which were fir trees hung with lighted candles and little sweetmeat favours in the form of animals and hearts and all kinds of shapes, and which Victoria knew to be delicious; and best of all piled under the trees were the presents. One of the big tables was entirely Victoria’s, the other was for the Conroy family.
What joy! thought Victoria. Mamma’s presents must be opened first. A lovely cloak lined with fur and a pink satin dress.
‘Oh, Mamma, but how lovely!’
The Duchess allowed herself to be embraced and forgot to remind Victoria of her rank in the excitement of the moment. And that was not all. Mamma had worked with her own hands a lovely pink bag the same colour as the dress; and there was an opal brooch and ear-rings.
‘What lovely … lovely presents.’
‘Open the others,’ said Mamma. She did. Lehzen’s first because dear Lehzen was there and she was determined to love whatever Lehzen gave her. A music book! ‘Oh, Lehzen, just what I wanted.’ More embraces and emotion. The tears come too easily, thought the Duchess. That must be curbed. Just like her father’s side of the family.