Desolation swept over me and Uncle Leopold and I wept together.
I was going to lose him. There would be no more visits to Claremont. And if by some chance there were, how empty the place would be without him.
I went back to the Palace and told Lehzen. She was dismayed too.
Mama did not seem as unhappy as I thought she might be. Of course she admired Uncle Leopold greatly and always discussed important matters with him, but since the visit of Caroline Bauer and her mother to Claremont, she had not been quite the same.
I overheard Lehzen and Spath discussing Uncle Leopold's departure.
Spath said in a voice of foreboding, “This means that that man will have more and more sway.”
Growing up made one knowledgeable so I knew she was referring to Sir John Conroy.
I was very melancholy. Life could become sad so unexpectedly. First I had lost my beloved sister and now—devastating blow—my dear, dear Uncle Leopold.
I WAS BECOMING more and more aware of Sir John Conroy.
Now that Uncle Leopold had gone Mama seemed constantly in his company. My Aunt Sophia often came from her apartments in the Palace to ours, and she, too, seemed to like him very much. They were always laughing together and Mama seemed quite different when he was there; her expression softened and her voice changed when she spoke to him.
When I mentioned this to Lehzen she said sharply, “Nonsense!”
I wished that Feodore was there so that I could talk about it with her.
I had always found it difficult to veil my feelings and while I was perhaps overflowing with affection for those I liked and was—Mama said— too demonstrative, when I disliked people I could not help showing that either.
I must have shown that I did not like Sir John.
I knew that Lehzen and Spath also did not like him. He used to look at them very sardonically, with a rather unpleasant expression in his eyes. I heard him speak of them both quite disparagingly to Mama when I was present. He said Spath was a silly blundering old woman, and he sneered at Lehzen's plebeian habit of munching caraway seeds. What shocked me was that Mama laughed with him, which I thought was disloyal to dear Lehzen who had been such a good friend to us both.
Sir John was a man who had a very high opinion of himself. I found out quite a lot about him because since the departure of Uncle Leopold he seemed to be forcing himself on my attention. He had abandoned his career in the Army to enter my father's service. He was half Irish and had an estate in Ireland that brought him a small income. He was an adventurer really; and had a swaggering way with him and seemed very confident that people—particularly women—were going to find him irresistible. He might have had some cause for this because Mama did seem to like him very much, and so did Aunt Sophia and several women of the household. I did not dislike Lady Conroy, but she was so insignificant that one hardly noticed her. His daughter Victoire gave herself airs and was certainly not my favorite companion. I felt I had continually to remind the Conroys that I did not regard them as of any great importance.
Victoire in particular was constantly referring to her father as though he were the head of the household. “My father says this …”
“My father says that …” And she behaved as though these pronouncements were law.
It was through her that I learned of the sneering remarks he made about my father's relations.
The King was mad, said Victoire to me; and she referred to Aunt Adelaide as “Her Spotted Majesty,” which was because Aunt Adelaide's skin was not very clear and there were sometimes blotches on it—a remark that must have come from her father because it was just the spiteful sort of thing he would say. She also told me that Aunt Adelaide wanted me to marry one of those horrid little Georges, and that her father was going to see that that never happened.
Victoire was always talking about the Bâtards who were trying to get all they could out of the King. She meant the FitzClarence children. She said it was disgraceful that they were allowed to come to Court, and her father had said that I should be forbidden to mingle with them.
It was infuriating to be told these things through Victoire and when I said this to Mama all she said was, “Oh, she is only a child and you should control your temper.”
I mentioned it to Lehzen, too. She was very distressed and poor old Spath said, “I don't know what things are coming to in this household. Now that the good King of the Belgians is no longer with us, things have changed for the worse.”
It was not only my relations whom Sir John sneered at. He made fun of me because he knew I did not like him.
“And how are the little dollies?” he would say, and there was a snigger in his voice as though he were implying what a child I was to be playing with dolls at my age. One could not explain to such a man that they were not ordinary dolls.
Then he would make fun of me. “You are getting more and more like the Duke of Gloucester every day.”
The Duke of Gloucester, who had married my Aunt Mary, was the most unprepossessing of men, and he was commonly known as Silly Billy because he was not very bright.
He could have reduced me to tears if he had not made me so very angry.
But these were small irritations, and I was to learn what real trouble this man could make.
One day when I was to present myself to Mama I went to her apartments. Spath was with me, but I ran on ahead.
When I entered the room Sir John Conroy was with Mama and they were talking together. I heard the words, “…a Regency… for the old man cannot live till she is of age…”
My mother was standing very close to Sir John and he was holding her hand.
I heard him say, “What a beautiful Regent you will make!”
I gasped because I thought he was going to kiss her.
Mama saw me then. Spath had come in and was hovering behind me.
Mama's color was very high and her earrings shook angrily. She seemed to quiver more than usual.
“Victoria,” she said in an angry voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Mama, it is my time for coming to you.”
“Dear me! You should not walk about so stealthily.”
I was often accused of boisterousness. This was something new. I felt very uneasy.
“Well, now you are here…”
“I see the Princess is not unaccompanied,” said Sir John in his sneering voice.
My mother frowned. “Oh …Spath …” The very way in which she said the poor Baroness's name was contemptuous. “It's you. Well, you will not be needed.”
Poor Spath, scarlet with embarrassment faded away and I was left with them. Mama seemed in an odd mood but Sir John was just the same as he always was, very composed, regarding me with that unpleasantly critical look as though I amused him because of some deficiency. I began to wonder whether I was getting too fat, as he was always hinting that I was.
When I saw Spath shortly afterward she seemed in a state of shock. I wanted to hear what she thought of the incident, for I could not get it out of my mind.
“Spath,” I said. “Did you think Mama was standing very close to Sir John Conroy?”
Spath looked at me with wide troubled eyes and as she did not reply I went on, “It did occur to me that he was on the point of kissing her.”
Spath caught her breath and still continued to look at me in silence.
“I think perhaps,” I went on, “Mama did not like our being there and seeing them, er… like that, because she immediately began scolding me, which people do sometimes when they are doing something about which they feel uncomfortable.”