He smiled at her from across the table and said to her: ‘You look tired, my dearest. You must not have so many late nights.’
She was pleased by his concern but hated to hear that she looked tired, which reminded her of that other affair: ‘Was she or was she not pregnant?’ She was not entirely sure yet but she rather believed she was. But she did not wish to be reminded; moreover he was referring obliquely to her love of dancing which she insisted should take place whenever possible and she had danced until two that morning. Albert always fidgeted and looked as though he would fall asleep at any moment. She did wish he did not feel so sleepy in the evenings. He really danced very well but she felt he did so reluctantly, which spoilt her pleasure.
So she felt a little irritated on the whole.
She said that she thought that Lord Melbourne was a little worried. That dreadful Peel man was a great thorn in his flesh.
‘Well, my dearest, he is the Leader of the Opposition. One would expect them to have a few differences of opinion.’
‘The Leader of the Opposition indeed, and that’s where I hope he’ll remain, although he would dearly love to be Prime Minister. He almost thought he was once but I put a stop to that. My government resigned because Lord Melbourne said he was powerless to pass laws with such a small majority and that dreadful Peel man thought he could take over. He came to see me. He is most unattractive and he prances about when he speaks like a dancing master.’
‘He has a wonderful record.’
‘Record! What do you mean, Albert, a wonderful record!’
‘He has done so much good for the country.’
‘Who has been telling you this nonsense, Albert?’
‘Nonsense, my dear love? Can you seriously think that? What of the Police Force, which is the envy of the world. Whose idea was it? And who formed it?’
‘Oh, that.’
‘Come my love, be fair. Answer me.’
‘It was just a law that was brought in.’
‘And a good one, eh?’
‘The Police Force has been greatly improved since it was formed.’
‘Should you not give credit where credit is due?’
‘Of course I would always give credit when it is deserved.’
‘Well then …’
‘But nothing is going to make me like your precious dancing master.’
These were the danger signals but Albert ignored them. She was a little frightened of the future. She hated this talk of politics. She wanted to laugh and talk of light matters and love with Albert.
‘And now, dear Albert,’ she went on, ‘I am going to ask you to help me choose the material for a new gown.’
‘Which I shall do with pleasure,’ said Albert, ‘but I do want you to look clearly at what is happening.’
‘Look clearly at what is happening? What do you mean? ‘I know what’s happening in this country, Albert, far more than you do. You forget my Prime Minister visits me every day. I have conferences with him. I happen to be the Queen of this country.’
‘As a statesman Lord Melbourne does not match up to Sir Robert Peel.’
She stared at him. She could not believe she had heard correctly. He had deliberately defied her. He had talked of politics when she did not wish to; he had decried her beloved Lord Melbourne; and he had applauded the man she hated as much as she had ever hated anyone.
She was trembling with rage. Her fingers closed about the handle of the full cup of tea before her which she had been about to drink when he had begun this distressing conversation.
She picked it up and threw it into his face.
Albert’s reaction was astonishing.
He rose from the table and said to the astonished servant who had come forward, ‘What do you think of that?’ He bowed to his wife. ‘I shall now go to change my clothes.’
He left her furious but wretched at the table.
Oh, dear, what had she done! It was that violent temper of hers. But really Albert should not have goaded her by praising that dreadful man. How could he admire Sir Robert Peel when she disliked him so? But to throw a cup of tea into her beloved Albert’s face! The thought of him sitting there so beautiful with the tea on his face and trickling down his coat was terrible. And he had been so wonderfully calm. He had had every right to be angry; but all he had done was go to change his coat.
She could not be happy until Albert and she were friendly again.
She ran up to his room. The door was shut.
‘Albert,’ she cried, rapping on it.
‘Is that you, Victoria?’ His voice sounded just the same, so beautifully calm, just as though nothing had happened.
‘Albert, I want to talk to you. May I come in?’ Her voice was humble. She felt humble. She was so ashamed of her outburst. Even Lehzen and Lord Melbourne said she had a quick temper. Lord Melbourne called it ‘choleric’.
Albert had changed his coat; he was standing at the window looking out.
‘Albert.’ She ran to him and threw herself into his arms.
He smiled tenderly. ‘There now, it is over,’ he said calmly.
‘But it is not over. I did that to you.’
‘The tea was tepid,’ said Albert with a smile, ‘and it was a very small cup.’
‘Oh, my precious angel! How kind, how forgiving you are!’
‘Shall we forget it?’
‘Oh, yes, Albert. But I fear I never shall. It was unforgivable of me. It was so ill-bred.’
‘Well, my dear, you would never listen to your mother and you only had your governess to tell you how to behave and I fear she flattered you because she was so eager to keep in your good graces.’
He held his breath. How would she take direct criticism of her idol?
She hesitated, about to defend her beloved Baroness, but so overcome with remorse was she that she let it pass.
‘I should not have lost my temper, Albert.’
‘No, my love, it is always a mistake to lose one’s temper.’
‘But you were very provoking.’
‘Should one be provoked simply because an opinion adverse to one’s own is expressed? However much one disagrees one should not, for instance … throw a cup of tea.’
She laughed. ‘Albert, I shall not throw another cup of tea at you.’
‘Do so if you wish – providing of course it is not too hot and too large.’
She laughed; and he laughed with her. She clung to him, kissing him fervently. ‘Oh my beloved angel, you are far too good for me,’ she cried.
Albert’s smile as he laid his face against her hair was a little complacent. This was progress, he felt.
Chapter VII
SHOTS ON CONSTITUTION HILL
The air was full of rumours. Almost every day there were cartoons in which the central figures were Victoria and Albert. Stories of their differences seeped out of the Palace. ‘Victoria wears the breeches,’ said the people gleefully. A certain amount of pleasure was expressed at this state of affairs. After all, was the comment, who was this Coburg Prince? More or less a pauper as Royalty went. Some might call him handsome – so he was in a pretty sort of way. But the ideal Englishman did not look like Albert, who was more like a pretty girl dressed up as a man. The way he sat his horse was foreign. And what of his brother? Ernest lingered on at the Court, didn’t he? Was he hoping that some of the spoils would come his way? Ernest began to figure in cartoons holding out his hand, feeling in Albert’s pocket. ‘Don’t forget me, brother,’ was the caption. ‘Spare a little for me.’