The Baron went on: ‘You will have had time to think of that matter we discussed earlier today?’
‘Which matter?’
‘We agreed that you would need a secretary.’
‘My dear Baron, I have had no time to think of anything but my duties this day.’
‘Of course. Of course.’
And then because she could never prevaricate she said: ‘But it may well be that the people, knowing your connection with my Uncle Leopold and he being the King of a foreign power, might not feel that you would be a wise choice.’
Poor Baron! He looked so crestfallen but Lord Melbourne was certainly right. She went on kindly: ‘It is so different now that I am the Queen. I have to be very careful and you, dear Baron, will be the first to realise this.’
The Baron took a somewhat bewildered leave. He feared that the King of the Belgians would not be pleased. So did Victoria. But it is different now, she told herself; and of course Lord Melbourne is right.
She was delighted when that dear good lord himself appeared at twenty minutes to nine and after kissing her hand with such courteous gallantry settled down for a cosy talk. And it really was cosy. He was like an uncle or even a father far more than a Prime Minister. He complimented her again on her performance and begged her to let him know if at any time he could be of service to her in any capacity whatsoever. They would naturally have State business to discuss and as her Prime Minister he would wait on her every day. She had no secretary and he believed that for a while she should delay appointing one to that post for why should she need a secretary when her Prime Minister was at hand to explain all State business, to read all documents to her and to give her his counsel on any matter over which she felt she needed it. Certainly she did not need a secretary as yet.
‘In any matters of difficulty consult Lord Melbourne,’ he said with a gay laugh. He laughed a great deal, being not at all solemn. That was one of the things she liked so much; and he had a most amusing way of expressing himself. But best of all he made her feel that when he was beside her she had nothing to fear whatsoever.
Yes, that was a very comfortable interview.
She went straight to her room when he left at ten o’clock and wrote in her Journaclass="underline" ‘Each time I see him I feel more confidence in him. I find him very kind in his manner.’
Her thoughts were full of him. What, without him, would have seemed a formidable task, with him was an exciting adventure.
Lehzen came in and said anxiously that it had been such a long tiring day and she must be exhausted.
‘I feel exhilarated, Lehzen,’ replied Victoria. ‘But I agree that it has been the strangest day of my life. I thank God that I have the best of Prime Ministers to guide me. Lehzen, you must have some post in my household.’
‘I don’t think that would be right,’ said Lehzen slowly.
‘Lehzen! You’re not thinking of leaving me!’
‘Never while I can be of the slightest use to you.’
‘Use! Don’t talk of use! You are my friend and always will be. Do not imagine that the Queen will forget the Princess’s dearest friend.’
‘Your generosity and good nature touches me as always. Let me remain with you as your friend, to help you when you need help, to comfort you when you need comfort. That’s all I ask.’
Victoria threw her arms round Lehzen’s neck. ‘You are right,’ she said. ‘You shall always remain with me as my friend.’
Victoria suddenly remembered her mother.
‘I should go down to Mamma and say goodnight, I suppose, for after all she is my mother.’
Lehzen agreed, secretly delighting in the humiliation of the Duchess.
So the Queen descended to the Duchess’s apartments and bade goodnight to her mother. There was some display of affection because that was necessary, Victoria decided, but it was a very formal goodnight.
Then Victoria ascended the stairs to her own room. Gleefully she looked at the bed – the only bed in the room.
‘Fancy,’ she murmured. ‘I had to be eighteen and a queen before I was allowed to have a room to myself.’
Then to bed, her thoughts full of that strange day and they were dominated, of course, by her handsome though ageing Prime Minister who was undoubtedly the most charming and attractive man she had ever met.
Chapter III
THE SENSATIONAL PAST OF A PRIME MINISTER
On his way to Melbourne House from Kensington, Lord Melbourne considered the events of the day and felt exhausted by his own emotions. He was extremely sensitive and if his feelings were somewhat superficial while he suffered them they were real enough. The tears came easily to his eyes – as Victoria had noticed and had warmed towards him because of this – but they did not spring from very deep wells. At the same time he had been deeply touched today by the prospect of this young girl who had never really emerged from the schoolroom, yet who had become overnight the Queen of England.
An enchanting creature he thought her, so natural, so honest. Caroline had been much younger when he had first met her. What a contrast! Caroline seemed to materialise on the carriage seat beside him to mock him as she had so often during the years when they were together. A mischievous sprite – he had always thought her, not entirely human – with her enormous hazel eyes and her hair the colour of ripe corn. How she had shocked everyone by cutting it off and wearing it like a boy’s! Caroline was unique. There would never be anyone else like her. Thank God, said the cynical Melbourne. No one could afford two Carolines in one lifetime, few could survive one; but he being himself – suave, civilised, intellectually superior to so many of his colleagues – had done so. Not without some cost. He shuddered faintly to recall the days of passion, of hopes, of quarrels and reconciliations, and the wild mad fascination of Caroline Lamb.
A new reign was about to begin and he had lived through three of them already: not a very admirable trio, he thought with a smile. Victoria’s grandfather, poor mad George III; her gouty extravagant uncle George IV – who though he might have been a Prince Charming in his youth had become a pitiable, querulous be-rouged mountain of decaying flesh by the time he was King – and William IV, certainly the most unkingly of them all, a man whom his people tolerated with a certain indulgence but who was suspected often of suffering from his father’s malady and certainly behaved in a manner to suggest this was true.
So was it not moving after a succession of unprepossessing half or wholly crazy old men, to find on the throne an eager young girl, anxious to do what was right and showing a willingness – one might say eagerness – to be guided?
He thought of her dispassionately not as a queen but as a girl. She was by no means beautiful, though at moments she could look almost pretty; her blue eyes were too prominent, her chin too small and receding; her nose was a trifle arrogant and when she laughed she showed her gums in a way which was not very attractive. But there was a determination there. Was it an obstinacy? There was an eagerness and above all an innocence. The Queen knew little of the world; she was too ready to trust; she was sentimental; life seen through her eyes would be a simple matter of right and wrong. What delightful material for a man satiated with experience, having lived life to the point beyond which there had seemed little of novelty to attract him, to mould into a queen! Here was a new interest in life. He was convinced that he knew exactly how to handle Victoria and he had not been so excited since the day he had married Caroline.
As soon as he had come face to face with the Queen he had been aware of the possibilities of a new relationship. He was a man who was very fond of the society of women; all his life he had had many friends among the opposite sex, which had on two occasions – three counting his marriage – brought him to the edge of disaster. It was due to his own inimitable insouciance that he had come through these scandals unscathed; and it was due to that same characteristic that the little Queen had met him and decided without preamble that he was the man she would choose for her favour and her confidence.