‘It shall be Ernest or Albert. She shall have the choice. And the sooner the better, I believe.’
‘She is surrounded by our enemies, that is the trouble.’
‘And she is so easy to lead.’
‘We did not find it easy to lead her,’ Sir John reminded her.
‘By some people,’ amended the Duchess. ‘Melbourne … Lehzen …’
‘Ah, Lehzen,’ sighed Sir John a little reproachfully. ‘What a pity you cannot get someone more sympathetic to us into her household.’
‘I will beg her to take in Flora.’
‘That’s a good notion.’
‘And I shall ask her to see you sometimes. Her not doing so, in such a pointed way, makes it a little embarrassing for me.’
Sir John nodded. He knew that people were already whispering that the Queen’s aversion to Sir John was due to her mother’s relationship with him.
‘I will write to her since she is too busy to see her own mother.’
‘Write calmly,’ said Sir John.
‘You may trust me.’
She sat down at her desk and feathers quivering with emotion she wrote to her daughter. She hoped that she was not letting Melbourne know how much she disliked her mother’s Comptroller of the Household. In fact was she confiding too much in Lord Melbourne? Did she not think it might be wiser to see a little less of her Prime Minister?
‘Take care,’ she wrote, ‘that Lord Melbourne is not King.’
When Victoria received the letter she blushed hotly.
How dared they! She included Sir John in her condemnation because she knew he would have had a hand in this. He made outrageous demands which were like blackmail, and then they dared speak so of Lord Melbourne!
Definitely she would never see Sir John Conroy again if she could help it; as for her mother, she would have to learn that her daughter was no longer her prisoner but the Queen of England!
Lord Melbourne said that it was not very suitable for the Queen to continue to live in Kensington Palace.
‘Kensington Palace is all very well for the heiress presumptive to the throne; but when that heiress becomes the Queen that is a very different matter.’
Victoria was wistful. ‘It is no easy matter to leave one’s home.’
‘But it is an easier matter to leave one of your homes when you have many. And you can always come back for a spell to Kensington. Why your grandfather George III and his wife Queen Charlotte …’ She made a little grimace. ‘… who incidentally bore no resemblance whatsoever to Your Majesty …’ Victoria joined Lord Melbourne in his laughter. ‘Your grandfather George III and Queen Charlotte loved Kew and they were very glad to leave Windsor to escape to it. They would walk about the place like a country squire and his lady and the King so interested himself in the farmers thereabouts that he often gave a hand with the butter-making.’
How their conversation strayed from the main point at issue and how fascinating that was! They had begun by talking of this move and ended up with King George at his butter-making.
‘So,’ went on Lord Melbourne, having succeeded in lifting the slight sadness which the prospect of moving had made her feel, ‘Your Majesty will remember that you can always come back to Kensington when you wish.’
So she could but Lord Melbourne would understand that it was not quite the same.
‘If you surround yourself with familiar objects – and why should you not? – it will make little difference to you whether you are in Kensington or Buckingham Palace.’
‘You will come and see me every day?’
‘That will be my duty and my pleasure.’
And so she had been wise and given her attention to the packing, for as she pointed out to Lehzen, there were so many personal possessions which one wished to look after oneself.
She and Lehzen spent a happy hour packing her dolls because although she rarely looked at them now it was inconceivable that they should be left behind. Lehzen was nothing loath. She had made quite a number of the dolls which represented characters from history – Queen Elizabeth was conspicuous among them.
‘I never liked her,’ said Victoria. ‘She was really very cruel. I believe she was a great queen and perhaps I should try to be like her in some ways, but I shall try to be good. I want to make my people happy, Lehzen, and comfortable.’
Lehzen said that was a very worthy desire and she believed that Victoria in years to come would be known as ‘Victoria the Good’.
What a pleasant thought! And there was her little dog Dash looking at her rather disconsolately as though he knew something was afoot.
‘We are going to leave Kensington, Dashy,’ she told him; and he put his head on one side and regarded her in that bright and intelligent way which she loved.
‘The only good thing Conroy ever did,’ she announced, ‘was to give Mamma Dashy.’
‘And he, being a wise dog, immediately decided to be yours.’
And Dash hearing his name mentioned gave his little series of joyous barks.
‘Oh, Dashy,’ she said, ‘I do hope you are going to like Buckingham Palace.’
‘We all shall, I’ve no doubt,’ comforted Lehzen.
‘All the same it is rather a solemn moment when one leaves one’s birthplace. Just think, Lehzen, for eighteen years this has been my home. Think of all that has happened here. Do you remember how we used to sit up here and play with the dolls?’
Lehzen remembered very well. ‘I believe Amy Robsart was your favourite.’
‘Well yes, because she was so sad and tragic.’ Victoria picked up Queen Elizabeth and gave her a little shake, as she used to in the old days. ‘Do you believe that Amy was murdered?’
‘That is something we shall never know.’
‘I remember dear Feodora’s wedding. She is very happy now with her darling children. What fun it would be, Lehzen, if they could come and visit us. I’m sure they would love it.’
‘You have only to ask them.’
‘I shall, Lehzen, I shall. Oh dear, I am going to miss dear Kensington.’
‘Buckingham Palace, as Lord Melbourne said, is far more suitable.’
So of course if Lord Melbourne said it, it must be so, and there should be no more regrets.
It was, naturally, more grand than Kensington. Her Uncle George IV had applied his considerable artistic talents to making it so, but when Uncle William and Aunt Adelaide had moved in and Adelaide had chosen some of the décor it had been voted decidedly vulgar.
With satisfaction Victoria examined her room; it was lofty, stately, and she would be alone, for she had made sure that the Duchess should have a quite separate set of apartments as far removed from her own as possible.
Standing at her window looking out across the gardens, she admitted that this was indeed a royal palace, although she still regretted Kensington for it was so hard to forget one’s birthplace and the scene of one’s childhood, girlhood and accession.
And when in bed that first night and the quiet of the Palace closed in on her she thought of the cosiness of Kensington and all the terrors of darkness descended on her. She had craved to be alone, but now the loneliness frightened her. She thought of the little Princes in the Tower – one of them the King of England. Stealthy footsteps in the night; a pillow pressed over the face. There had been scares in her childhood when a rumour had been in circulation that her uncle Cumberland had wanted the throne and was determined to get her out of the way. Uncle Cumberland was a man with an evil reputation. It was believed that he had committed one murder at least, and his wife had been married twice before and there was a certain mystery surrounding both her husbands’ deaths. That was why Mamma had said she was never to be alone; and even when she had gone down the little twisting staircase she had had to be accompanied.