‘Perhaps we concern ourselves too much.’
‘Most young people turn against those who have directed them in their youth – once they have escaped from that vigilance which has maintained them. I feel sure the Princess will be no exception.’
‘I shall see that she is!’
‘She will be surrounded by those who seek places. I do think we should make sure that we are at hand to guide her. You as her mother will certainly be, but I think I should have some post which will ensure that I am at her side.’
‘What post do you want?’
‘I think if I were her private secretary I could look after her, and you, my dearest Duchess, could be sure of seeing all important documents that came into our hands.’
‘Then you must be her private secretary.’
‘She of course will be the one to decide on whom to bestow the post.’
‘Then I say she shall bestow it on you.’
‘She will know that it is in her power to refuse; and she may go to the King.’
The Duchess looked angry. ‘Disobedience …’
‘Remember, my dear Grace, that she will be of age and the Queen. She will no longer be your dependent little girl. We have to go carefully.’
‘I do hope she is not going to prove ungrateful.’
‘I will speak to her, while she is feeble, and try to persuade her. There is a change in her. She will be less arrogant, more amenable on her sickbed.’
The Duchess nodded.
‘So I have your Grace’s consent to make this request to her?’
‘But of course. And it is, like all your plans an excellent one.’
There were long shadows in the room. She was supposed to be sleeping. Beside her bed Lehzen sat dozing. Poor Lehzen who refused to go to bed and must be on call day and night for her Princess. Victoria had seen her often sitting by the bed when her eyes refused to stay open; and Victoria smiled when she actually slept.
She thought: This is the nearest I have ever been to being alone.
She watched poor Lehzen now – the piece of needlework fallen from her hands, her head lolling forward. Dear Lehzen, let her rest.
I have been very ill, thought Victoria. Indeed, she felt very weak and quite hazy. Only this morning when she had awakened she had not been sure where she was. How glad she would be to be back in Kensington. It seemed years ago that Uncle Leopold and Aunt Louise were here. When she had looked at herself in the mirror which she had insisted on Lehzen’s bringing to her, she scarcely recognised herself – she was so pale and her eyes looked so big and protuberant; and her hair … which used to be so thick was now thin and lifeless.
Lehzen had assured her that it would soon grow thick again.
She felt so tired – too tired to think of how old she was getting and that she would soon meet some more cousins from Germany whom Uncle Leopold was so anxious for her to like.
She half dozed and then awoke with a start, for the door of the room had quietly opened and someone was standing there.
She wanted to scream for in her weakened state it seemed to her that evil had entered the room. He stood smiling at her – bold and wicked, for she was sure he was wicked – with that half sneering smile on his face. Sir John Conroy, the man whom she had hated, had come into her bedroom and she was unprotected, for Lehzen, worn out with exhaustion, was fast asleep in her chair and she herself, weakened by her serious illness, was unable to do anything but stare at him in fascinated horror.
He put his fingers to his lips and, glancing at the sleeping Lehzen in a way which angered Victoria, he came closer to the bed and sat down on it on the opposite side from that at which Lehzen sat.
‘What … do you want?’ stammered Victoria.
‘To speak to you,’ he whispered.
‘Not here … in my bedroom.’
He laughed softly – that beastly laugh which she hated.
‘It’s as good a place as any and you happen to be here.’
‘I am not strong enough to receive visitors. Lehzen will tell you …’
He laughed again in contempt of Lehzen. ‘I’m not an ordinary visitor, am I?’
That was true. He was certainly not like the Queen or the Duchess of Cambridge or poor old Aunts Sophia, Augusta or Mary. She did not feel well enough to see them, but at least they would come with the kind purpose of cheering her up. This man was sinister.
‘I am tired,’ said Victoria.
He laid a hand on hers which made her shiver.
‘Then we will settle our little business quickly.’
‘Yes, please,’ she said pointedly.
‘My dear Princess, I want you to make me a solemn promise.’
‘I should want to know first what you are asking me to promise.’
‘You are going to need a great deal of help in a few years’ time. You will need someone you can trust to be at hand. A position which will be of the greatest importance will be that of your private secretary. I want you to give me your solemn promise now that when you are Queen that post shall be mine.’
‘I can give no promises,’ said Victoria.
‘My dearest Princess, you are very weak at the moment …’
‘And in no condition to be approached about such matters.’
‘There is a certain urgency.’
‘I see no urgency.’
‘You have to prepare yourself for something which could happen at any moment.’
‘I shall be prepared.’
‘You do not understand these things. You are a young and charming girl whose thoughts are taken up with pretty clothes from Paris.’
‘I can give my attention to other matters when it is necessary.’
‘It is necessary now. Just say the word. That is all I ask. Your solemn promise. And I will draw up a paper to which you can put your signature … It will all be so easy.’
‘No,’ she said firmly. And then: ‘Lehzen. Wake up, Lehzen.’
Lehzen opened her eyes and stared at Sir John who continued to perch jauntily on the Princess’s bed.
‘What are you doing here?’ demanded Lehzen.
‘Madam?’ replied Sir John with the utmost haughtiness as though to ask how a mere governess could dare to speak to him – the Duchess’s adviser and friend – in such a manner.
‘I feel so tired,’ said Victoria.
‘The Princess is not well enough to receive visitors,’ declared Lehzen, getting up and dropping her sewing on to the floor.
‘Except members of the household, of course,’ said Sir John, ‘and I am in that category.’
‘I think you should leave now.’
‘I intend to have a word or two with the Princess first.’
‘The Princess will see you when she is well.’
‘This is important business, Madam. The Duchess and I have decided it cannot wait.’
‘I cannot have the Princess disturbed.’
‘The Duchess’s orders are that she is to receive me.’
Victoria sat forward; her head was swimming but her eyes were brilliant with defiance. ‘I shall myself decide,’ she said, ‘whether or not I shall receive visitors. The Baroness has asked you to leave.’
‘Oh come,’ said Sir John, ‘all this excitement about such a little matter. We don’t want a storm over a friendly visit.’
‘I have told you that I do not wish to receive,’ said Victoria. ‘And no matter how much you talk I shall not appoint you as my private secretary.’
‘So that is what it means,’ said Lehzen.
‘Yes, Lehzen,’ replied Victoria, ‘and I wish to rest. Goodbye, Sir John.’
Sir John’s eyes were angry, his mouth tight. He looked as though he would like to murder Lehzen; but she stood still glaring at him while Victoria pretended to shut her eyes but they were only half closed; she wanted to see Sir John go.