Two years ago, when Victoria had become Queen, there had been great changes in the palace. She had quickly shown that she had no intention of being persuaded to do anything she did not wish. She had immediately fallen under the spell of charming Lord Melbourne and the relationship between the young Queen and her ageing Prime Minister had given rise to some speculation. She had found him extremely handsome and she was very susceptible to good looks particularly in men, although quite a lot of her ladies had been chosen for their appearance. Beauty appealed to her in every form and her first comment on those who came in contact with her would invariably be of their physical assets or defects. The handsome Lord Melbourne, with his fatherly air and the manner in which his eyes filled with tears as he contemplated her, completely won her heart from the day of her accession; and with that whole-hearted affection which she generously and rather impulsively gave, she was ready to accept almost everything he put before her simply because he had suggested it.
These two people had had her affection up to this time: Melbourne, her worldly, cynical (in spite of the effective tears) Prime Minister who knew that his position could be changed if his government fell and therefore realised how precarious it was; and the Baroness Lehzen who had no thought of anything but her imperious young mistress and whose life would cease to have any meaning if she relinquished her hold on her affections.
Marriage, of course, could change the situation at the palace. If Victoria fell in love she would do so whole-heartedly and the affections she had for any other than her husband would be in great danger of being usurped by him.
So the Baroness was uneasy because she was aware of how deeply Albert’s good looks had impressed her mistress, and the slightest criticism of that young gentleman would arouse the Queen’s temper, which Lehzen had often declared to be, in her best nursery manner, ‘Very big for such a small person.’
Now Victoria went on to extol the virtues of Albert.
‘He is much more handsome than Ernest.’
Lehzen admitted this was so. ‘Although Ernest looked the stronger of the two.’
‘Stronger!’ cried Victoria. ‘In what way?’
‘In health, I meant.’
‘Oh, Albert is so much more refined.’
‘I remember last time he came. Remember, he nearly fainted on the ballroom floor.’
‘He was growing too fast. You see he was quite short then. He is tall now. What a fine figure he has. His shoulders are broad and he has such a fine waist.’
‘You have a sharp pair of eyes,’ said Lehzen.
‘You always said that.’
‘Yes, my precious angel, and it’s true.’
‘Well, anyone would notice Albert. He stands out in a crowd.’
‘It was hardly a crowd. I must say they travel light. Their baggage hasn’t come. They won’t be able to change for dinner.’
‘That will make it all delightfully informal.’ Victoria giggled.
‘You’ve changed quickly,’ said Lehzen. ‘Yesterday you were dreading their coming.’
‘It’s different after having seen Albert.’
‘You don’t have to rush into anything.’
Victoria was immediately the Queen. ‘I do not have to do anything I don’t wish to,’ she said. ‘Unless, of course,’ she added hastily, ‘it was for the good of the state.’
‘Some might say marriage was for the good of the state. As the Queen you have to give the country its next King or Queen.’
Lehzen watched her mistress obliquely. The shaft had gone home. Victoria could never hide her feelings. Since the death of Lady John Russell in childbirth Victoria had thought a good deal about bearing children. She had referred to it as the ‘dark side of marriage’. It was horrible, painful and could be dangerous. Dear Lady John had been young, happily married, she already had children and could well have done without another, and she who had been well one week was dead the next.
But Lehzen could not bear to see her darling unhappy, so she put an arm about her and said: ‘Why, dearest, you’re only twenty. You could wait three or four years for marriage if you wished. Didn’t Lord Melbourne tell you so?’
‘Dear Lord Melbourne.’ Victoria thought of those happy meetings in the blue closet, the long chats about any subject Lord Melbourne liked to introduce. Little titbits about the ministers and members of the household, about his childhood (though never about his scandalous past), his witty comments on life and the sudden way in which he would introduce some state matter and explain it in the most amusing way. Yesterday she would have been happy for the old way to go on and on. Although she knew it couldn’t because Lord Melbourne’s Whig government was very shaky and Sir Robert Peel’s Tories could overthrow it at any moment and a new Prime Minister would never allow the Leader of the Opposition to be on such intimate terms with the Queen.
There had to be change; and it had come as soon as she looked into those beautiful blue eyes and noticed the good looks of her fascinating cousin.
Although she had deplored the prospect of change she could not help being elated because Albert had come.
She knew what this meant.
She had fallen in love. And Lehzen, who knew her so well, was aware of it too.
Albert’s fears were rapidly disappearing because she was so enthusiastic about everything he did that he could not help knowing that he was a success. He was glad he had brought his greyhound with him, for she was devoted to dogs and had several, the favourite of them being Dash, who took a fancy to Albert. She did seem rather childish, betraying her feelings so easily, and she was simple in her tastes. She would shriek with laughter when he joked. Not that he was given to joking but she was so easy to amuse and it was pleasant to make her laugh. She would race through the gardens with Dash at her heels and she would pick him up and explain to him that Eos, Cousin Albert’s greyhound, was so called because that meant Dawn, and because he was black with a silver streak he had reminded Cousin Albert of the first touch of light after the darkness of night. ‘It was such a clever name,’ she said admiringly.
Music was a passion with her as with him, and this was a great interest in common. She loved to listen to the two brothers playing together and was in ecstasies when she and Albert sang a duet together. There was one thing which caused Albert a certain uneasiness; that was her love of dancing. Every night she wished to dance. Albert had been warned by Leopold and Stockmar that his social manners must improve and, with this in mind, he had forced himself to master the necessary dancing steps and with his usual thoroughness he had become a tolerably good dancer, though he felt no enthusiasm for the exercise. Victoria however was enchanted with his dancing.