Everything must be different soon. When one had been merely a princess and suddenly became a queen this must be so. She was thinking of Uncle Leopold’s last letter to her, received only a few days ago. She knew phrases from it off by heart.‘My beloved child (she was always his beloved or his dearest child) I shall today enter on the subject of what is to be done when the King ceases to live. The moment you get official communication of it you will entrust Lord Melbourne with the office of retaining the present Administration as your ministers …’
Lord Melbourne! The Prime Minister! He was an extremely handsome man and he had had such an adventurous life. There was something very exciting about Lord Melbourne. He was essentially of that world from which all her life she had been shut away. His marriage had been a disaster; many people had said that his young wife, long since dead, had been mad; he had had a son who was not quite normal; he had been cited as co-respondent in two divorce cases. And yet he had come through all this victoriously. He was unscathed; in fact scandals had enhanced him. He was a magnificent man and the thought of sending for him and telling him that he was to continue as the chief of her ministers made her shiver with delight and apprehension.
With Lord Melbourne to advise her at home and Uncle Leopold with a benign, watchful eye and a ready pen from his Belgian kingdom she need have no fears. All she had to do was stand firm and not allow Mamma and That Man to dictate or attempt to persuade.
I shall decide on all matters, Victoria promised herself. I and my ministers.
My ministers! How wonderful that sounded. But as yet she must only say it to herself. She blushed at the thought of poor Uncle William on his death bed hearing her say that aloud.
‘Dear Uncle William,’ she said. ‘How I wish that I might see him. But I suppose that is forbidden.’
And so she was back at Mamma.
Much better to think of Uncle Leopold who had ended his letter by saying that he would not come to her immediately, although at any time she desired his presence he would be there. If he came now people might think that he had come to enslave her; they might think that he had come to take a part in ruling the kingdom for his own advantage.
As if anyone could think that! she demanded of herself indignantly. But people could be difficult. There was Mamma’s Comptroller of her Household, Sir John Conroy. ‘That man’, as she and Lehzen called him.
‘He is capable of anything,’ she said.
Lehzen said, ‘Who is that?’ And Victoria realised she had spoken aloud.
‘I was thinking of Uncle Leopold’s letter in which he says that if he came to me now his actions might be misconstrued and I am sure Sir John Conroy would be the first to misconstrue them.’
Lehzen’s lips tightened. She would never forgive Sir John for trying to send her back to Germany. She had fought hard to remain and Victoria – dear faithful princess – had threatened ‘storms’ and interference from the King, and so they had won an uneasy victory. But Lehzen did not share Victoria’s blind adoration for Leopold. She often suspected his motives; she knew that he was very ambitious. She had deplored his departure for Belgium because that had made Sir John Conroy more powerful; but the truth was that Lehzen could not bear to share Victoria’s affections with anyone. Fiercely possessive, she lived for her charge.
‘My dearest,’ she said, ‘when you are Queen, and who knows, you may be at this moment, you will have to tread very carefully and it may be difficult to know who is your friend.’
The rather prominent blue eyes were filled with tears. Victoria threw her arms about Lehzen’s neck crying: ‘There is one whom I shall never doubt. Dearest Lehzen, you and I will never be separated.’
Such demonstrations were the delight of Lehzen’s life. They were not infrequent, for Victoria was affectionate by nature and too fundamentally honest to be able to hide her feelings even if she wished to.
‘I pray that you will always feel as you do now,’ said Lehzen fervently.
‘But of course I shall. My crown will make no difference to my heart. We have been together for so long that it seems forever. Do you remember when I was so ill that my hair fell out in handfuls? Every time you dressed it you would assure me that it was getting thicker. And you made a funny little puff of it to make it seem thicker. Oh dear, dearest Lehzen!’
Lehzen was too moved for words. She composed her features but after a few moments said in her most authoritative governess’s voice: ‘I think it is time we went for our drive.’
‘Yes,’ said Victoria meekly; and as they went out she was thinking: It can’t be long. Perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps even today. Queen of England … at any moment.
The Duchess of Kent heard the clop-clop of horses’ hoofs.
‘The Princess and the Baroness are going for their morning drive,’ she said to Lady Flora Hastings, one of the most devoted of her attendants. The Princess! mused the Duchess. How long before she was Queen? The thought filled her with an excitement she found difficult to control and the person to whom she could express her jubilation was naturally her dear Sir John Conroy, Comptroller of her Household and intimate friend. All through the difficult years of Victoria’s childhood they had been together and now they should be approaching the culmination of their hopes. But were they?
‘My dearest Duchess should contain her feelings,’ said Sir John gently as she burst into his study. He liked the lack of ceremony and although it was noted throughout the household and caused a certain amount of scandal, that did not altogether displease him either. There was a mischievous streak in his nature which often appeared to force him into some action detrimental to his interests merely for the cynical pleasure it gave him.
‘At such a time!’ cried the Duchess. ‘All our hopes and plans are about to be realised.’
‘Your Grace must take into consideration the child herself.’
‘Victoria! Do you know, my dear, I sometimes think that my daughter is lacking in gratitude.’
‘A common failing,’ smiled Sir John.
‘It is not one I expect from my own daughter.’
‘Alas, realisation often falls short of our expectations. My dear spy tells me that His Majesty is sinking fast.’
‘It is fortunate that the Princess Sophia is so friendly towards us … or perhaps I should say towards you.’
Sir John smirked. It was true that the Princess Sophia adored him and was ready to act as spy at Court. She had begged him to take charge of her accounts in addition to those of the Duchess, and this was well worthwhile, Sir John explained to his Duchess. The Princess Sophia could keep them informed of her brother William’s actions and since the Duchess was on such bad terms with His Majesty that was not such a bad thing. Sir John always had excuses to offer her for his friendships with other women. He was of course very handsome, very clever and so many women seemed to find his somewhat sarcastic cynical manner fascinating. Even Lady Conyngham, George IV’s mistress, had not been indifferent to him. So useful, Sir John had said then, to have a foot in the royal apartments; and so he said now, through the Princess Sophia. But the Duchess was well aware that his first loyalties were to her.