‘Do you think I would? My great desire is to see the child happy.’
‘No, I didn’t think so for a moment. You dote on her. That’s obvious. Perhaps that’s why you have been so harsh with Bertie. The poor child can’t help it because he is not Vicky.’
‘My dear love, what are you saying?’
‘Well you do favour her, don’t you? And she has been just as naughty as Bertie. She has at times been quite rebellious and coquettish with some of the equerries. I have had to reprimand her. And you, Albert, who set yourself up as being so calm, have just turned a blind eye to Vicky’s shortcomings. The child has been quite spoiled.’
‘You have been stern enough with her.’
‘Someone had to correct her. It’s no wonder that she adores her dearest Papa and thinks Mama a little cruel now and then.’
‘You are overwrought,’ said the Prince. ‘It is the thought of your daughter’s growing up, becoming almost a woman.’
She looked at him tearfully. ‘Yes, Albert, that is it.’ She held out her hand and he took it. ‘She will go away from us and this will no longer be her home … only a place she will visit. It’s sad, Albert.’
Albert was very sad. The idea of losing his beloved Vicky affected him more than it did Victoria. ‘It is the way of life, my love,’ he said mournfully.
‘And whatever comes, Albert, we have each other.’
‘That, my dear child, is something for which we must always be thankful.’
He smiled at her tenderly and happiness was restored.
Albert loved to organise the family whether it was hunting moths and butterflies, reading, climbing or acting the plays they enjoyed so much. As he felt better and his rheumatism had subsided he thought that a ride to Craig-na-Ban would be enjoyable. All the family, apart from the very young children, including Fritz, were to set out on their ponies accompanied by John Grant and good John Brown. They would go up into the hills on their ponies and a carriage would pick them up at a point to be decided on by the Prince.
They set out, Victoria and Albert leading; it was soon very clear that Vicky and Fritz were going to straggle.
The Queen and Albert exchanged significant glances.
‘As long as they are not out of sight,’ murmured Albert.
Vicky and Fritz were talking earnestly.
‘What a beautiful place,’ Fritz was saying.
‘Mama thinks it is the most beautiful in the world. Papa is enamoured of his Thuringian forest and loves this because he says it resembles it. Uncle Ernest said it was not in the least like Germany. What do you say?’
Fritz looked at her earnestly: ‘I can only give my attention to one thing at the moment.’
‘Fritz,’ cried Vicky, ‘you are not referring to me as a thing!’
Fritz laughed delightedly. She was bright and animated; who would believe she was only fourteen? She was almost ready for marriage – or would be in a year or so.
Fritz himself being twenty-four was impatient, and he realised that Vicky was well aware of this.
‘You will have to grow up quickly,’ he said.
‘I grew up at an early age,’ retorted Vicky. ‘And you know girls are said to mature earlier than men.’
‘What is the equivalent age in a woman compared with that of a man of say … twenty-four?’
Vicky pretended to consider. ‘That would depend. Eighteen shall we say, sixteen, in some cases perhaps fourteen.’
Vicky pressed her heel against the pony’s side and he trotted a little faster. Fritz came up to her and pressed a piece of white heather into her hand.
‘I just picked it,’ he said. ‘I am told it means good luck.’
‘Thank you, Fritz.’
‘Your good luck,’ he said soberly, ‘will be mine.’
‘Why?’ demanded Vicky.
‘Because,’ replied Fritz, ‘I hope that one day you will be my wife.’
Vicky opened her eyes very wide and stared at him. She had known of course why he had come and there had been many sly allusions from the members of the household. She was excited. Fritz was so handsome. And of course he would one day be King of Prussia.
‘Well,’ said Fritz, ‘are you surprised, horrified, shocked or perhaps a little pleased?’
‘Perhaps a little pleased would fit the case better than any of those other conditions you mentioned.’
Yes, thought Fritz, Vicky was certainly exciting. He was glad he had spoken and he did not think the Queen was going to be too displeased about that.
As soon as they returned to the castle Vicky went to her mother’s room.
‘My darling,’ cried the Queen and embraced her.
‘Oh, Mama, you know.’
The Queen smiled. ‘My love, I was aware of dear Fritz’s feelings for you. Papa and I had decided that he would be a good match for you. But you know that if you did not care for him we should never have forced you. He was not going to speak to you yet.’
‘I know, but it slipped out. Perhaps I wheedled it out of him.’
The Queen laughed.
‘Oh dear, dear Mama!’
‘There must of course be no wedding for some time. You would have to be seventeen.’
‘Oh, Mama, three years.’
The Queen laughed again so indulgently. ‘It is not very long, my dearest.’
‘Three whole years without Fritz!’
‘Oh, you have progressed so far already, have you?’
‘Well Mama, as soon as Fritz gave me the white heather I knew. I shall keep that piece of heather for ever.’
Albert came in. He must have heard Vicky’s arrival.
Vicky flew into her father’s arms and the Queen felt a twinge as she saw the tender expression in Albert’s eyes.
‘So, my love, you have forestalled us all, eh?’ said Albert.
‘Papa, dearest Papa. I have just thought of something dreadful. When I marry Fritz I shall have to leave you.’
‘My love, it is the way of the world. A daughter must leave her parents and cleave to her husband.’
‘But, Papa, to leave you …’ There was a brief pause and Vicky seemed suddenly to be aware of her mother. ‘And Mama …’ she added.
‘My dear,’ said the Queen, ‘you shall visit us often and perhaps Papa and I will visit you. But I have been telling her, Albert, that there can be no marriage yet. She seems to have forgotten that she is a child of fourteen.’
‘You were very young when you married Papa.’
‘Not fourteen, nor even seventeen. I was nearly twenty.’
‘How old!’ wailed Vicky.
‘Your Papa and I were in love just as you and Fritz are. But of course I had great responsibilities, which you will have later. But you will have a husband to stand beside you. I had no one until your father came. And what a difference that made to me!’
‘I can only hope,’ said Albert, ‘that you, dear daughter, will be as happy as your mother and I have been.’
Fritz left a few days later, already engaged to Vicky; and the two people behaved like a young couple deeply in love. There were tears at their parting and Albert sat down to tell his friend Stockmar all about it, knowing that the news would cheer him greatly. It was always so pleasant when those for whom marriages had been arranged obligingly fell in love.
‘The young people are ardently in love,’ he wrote. ‘An abundance of tears was shed at their parting.’
As for himself he was ‘tortured and tormented by rheumatism and could hardly hold the pen’.
The Queen came in while he was writing.
‘Writing to the Baron?’ she said. ‘Well, he will be delighted, and you are because he is.’