I agreed gleefully. Louisa was one of those gossipy people with whom it is such fun to talk. They are so pleasantly indiscreet.
In every room she kept mementos of Charlotte. Whoever said that Charlotte was dead, was wrong. Charlotte lived on at Claremont. She seemed to be there in every room. Uncle Leopold and Louisa Lewis had kept her alive.
Louisa talked of her constantly. I did not mind. I liked to hear about her. She had been one of those people who had the miraculous ability of turning her faults into virtues. “Such a hoyden,” said Louisa, as though that was a wonderful thing to be. “The dear Prince did what he could to cure her, but he gave up in despair… such loving despair.”
It was fascinating. I learned about the King's objection to Leopold and how he had wanted Charlotte to marry the Prince of Orange. “But she would have Leopold.” Charlotte must have been cleverer than poor Feodore, I thought, and wondered how she had managed it. By being a hoyden? Of course she was the heiress to the throne. Perhaps that had had something to do with it.
“You should have seen her in her wedding dress… silver tissue… and the King had given her those jewels which pass to all the Queens of England. But her favorite was one diamond bracelet. Guess why? Because that was a gift from Prince Leopold…so it was most precious to her.”
I listened with tears in my eyes.
“She loved Claremont. To her it meant more than all the royal palaces. She insisted on living like an ordinary housewife. Oh, she would have her own way, Charlotte would. She even did some cooking…and she was so good to the poor of the neighborhood. They loved her. She looked after Leopold, and he was very amused although he was always trying to remind her of her royal dignity. Useless, of course. Charlotte did not care much for dignity. I remember how she used to comb his hair. Oh, they were so happy. It was such a joy to serve her and then…for her to go like that. She was so well, so delighted because she was to have a child… her baby. She didn't think so much of being a future king or queen. It was just to be her little baby. And then…it happened…so suddenly…I just went stone cold. Something died in me. I could not imagine going on without Charlotte to look after.”
Claremont was a house of mourning still and I wondered why I was so happy in it. But it was not a sad sort of mourning. I had the impression that they would be unhappy if it stopped—particularly Uncle Leopold.
We talked a great deal about Charlotte, how he had guided her, how he had changed her after their marriage. Before that she had been so uncontrollable. She had not had a good relationship with either of her parents. It had been difficult to imagine a child with more unfortunate parents. “Oh, how grateful you should be, dearest, to have your Uncle Leopold always so concerned for your well being… and your Mama also. We shall care for you, dear child, as poor Charlotte was never cared for… until she became my wife, of course.”
“She must have been very happy then.”
Uncle Leopold smiled into the past. “She worshipped me. My dear, dear Charlotte. My child, I hope you never know sorrow such as I did when she went.”
When I come to think of these talks with Uncle Leopold I realize how often they were concerned with melancholy. Life was very serious for Uncle Leopold. I was inclined to think that life could be rather merry. I loved dancing, singing, and laughing—all of which, Mama said, when done to excess, were vulgar. Perhaps I was a little vulgar. No wonder Mama and Lehzen had to keep such a sharp watch on me. And yet I enjoyed these talks with Uncle Leopold. I loved to shed a tear with him over all his sorrows. He was a martyr to many illnesses and he liked to talk about them to me: the mysterious pains, the easy way in which he caught cold. After discovering that the King's luxurious curls were a wig I found myself studying Uncle Leopold's hair. He must have noticed this for he explained, “I wear this thing just to keep my head warm.”
“Well,” I replied, “that is a good reason for wearing it, for you do suffer from pains in the head, dear Uncle.”
I noticed, too, that he had high soles and heels on his shoes. I had thought at one time that this was to make him look taller, but I guessed now that it was to help some ailment in his feet.
During that visit Uncle Leopold mentioned quite casually that he had made a great sacrifice for my sake. I was quite alarmed and he went on, “I have been offered the throne of Greece and I have declined it.”
“Do you mean you would have been a king?”
“Yes, I should have been a king. But what of that? The first thing that occurred to me was: I should be separated from little Victoria.”
“Oh, Uncle Leopold, did you give up a crown for me?”
“It was worth it, my love. At least, I believe it was worth it…if I can be proud of my dearest child.”
“Oh, you will be, Uncle. You will be.”
“I know it. Never forget, my dearest, how much I care for you.”
I swore I would not and I felt very happy because he had given up a crown for my sake.
Then he told me about my little cousin who had been born at a beautiful place called Rosenau exactly three months after I made my appearance into the world.
“This dear little boy, who is one of the most beautiful I ever saw, is my nephew … as you are my little niece. I often think how lucky I am to have two such little darlings to care for.”
“Do you care for him then, Uncle?”
“Indeed I do.”
I felt a little jealous of this intruder and wanted to ask if Uncle Leopold cared more for him than for me, but I guessed that would not be a good thing to ask, so I waited to hear more of this boy. I was glad he was younger than I. I felt that gave me an advantage.
“He has a little brother who is not quite a year older than he is.”
“I have a sister who is twelve years older than I.”
Uncle Leopold ignored that. He did not want to go back over Feodore's misfortunes. He wanted to talk about his little nephew.
“His name is Albert and his brother is Ernest.”
“They must be German.”
“Their father is the Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. They are two charming boys.”
“I should like to see them. They are my cousins, are they not?”
“They are indeed your cousins. I have heard from your grandmother that Albert is as quick as a weasel.”
“Yes, I suppose weasels are rather quick.”
Uncle Leopold smiled a little impatiently. “He has big blue eyes and is very good-looking. He is very lively and good-natured.”
“He sounds very good,” I said uneasily.
“He is full of mischief.”
That sounded more likeable and I asked some questions about him.
“I believe you would be very good friends with your cousins,” went on Uncle Leopold. “You see they have no mother now, and you have no father.”
“I see,” I said.
“It makes a bond between you.”
“Shall I meet them? Will they come here? I do not think Mama would want me to go to Germany.”
“You may very likely meet them one day.”
“Oh, I do hope so.”
“In fact,” said Uncle Leopold, smiling, “I am going to make sure that you do.”
And after that he talked to me often about my cousins, and when I asked questions about them he seemed very pleased indeed.
FEODORE RETURNED TO Kensington. She seemed different, no longer the broken-hearted Feodore who had left us. There was an air of serenity about her. Resignation, I supposed.
She was to be married very soon to Count Hohenlohe-Langenburg.
We were so delighted to see each other. I could not bear her to be out of my sight. I showed her all the dolls. There were one or two new ones. Mama had said that I should give up playing with dolls. She did not understand that my dolls were not ordinary dolls. They were real people to me. Lehzen wanted me to keep them. She loved them as much as I did. They were educational, she said, which was her verdict on anything that she liked.