As I was about to turn away, I noticed a small man in a dull dark coat and breeches slip from the coach. He carried himself hastily but with dignity, his nose so far in the air the tip of his chin whiskers pointed directly at the Palace stairs. The glass from his spectacles glinted in the sunlight. Though he was not in livery, I assumed he was the Prince’s valet. I wonder if he was dressed in the style of all Coburg servants, but tossing the thought aside, I scurried along to alert Florence and Granny. Prince Albert had come to his waiting bride.
Gathering up Florence from her studies, we went to our chamber in the hopes of being summoned to meet the Prince. Granny fairly leaped from her bed when roused with the news. She toddled to the dressing table and examined herself in the mirror, fussing with her hair and pinching her cheeks.
We perched waiting for word from the Queen. It was fully an hour later when Braxton called us to Victoria’s private parlor. The little monarch sat on her loveseat, petting Dash. She did not appear pleased. Baroness Lehzen stood at her side, wringing her hands in a slow but agitated manner.
“I have a visitor and I do not wish to meet him alone,” the Queen said. “You must stay with me at all times during his visit.”
That was odd, I thought. Baroness Lehzen could perform the duties of chaperone, and of course there would be the guards. Though flattered and eager to meet Prince Albert, I was puzzled as to why the Queen wished us to remain.
“Lord Melbourne is still in the House of Parliament and so I am inviting you, my dear friends, to join me.” Her bright blue eyes did that bulging thing that sometimes occurred when she was stressed. “My cousin, Prince George of Hanover has arrived perhaps in anticipation of the wedding. He is both one month early and also not invited.” When she realized we did not understand her concern she explained her apprehension.
“George is Lord Cumberland’s only son. Let me remind you of the last encounter with my Hanoverian relatives. When you hear a certain name, my trepidation will make sense. Prince George’s mother is the Duchess Frederica.”
Granny gasped, her tiny pale hand hitting her mouth with a smack. Lord Cumberland had abetted his treasonous wife in fleeing back to their tiny German principality when it was discovered she had been behind a plot to assassinate Queen Victoria. And now their son was paying an unexpected visit!
The Queen nodded her head. “My cousin’s presence here bodes ill. I would like you three to bear witness to this meeting. I insist you do not leave me alone with him. Unless I am prepared for any eventuality, I may not live to greet my dear Albert.”
I reached in my pocket confirming the India rubber ball was in place while stealing a peek at Florence’s face. She was more than impassioned, she was furious. I watched in fascination as she endeavored to bring her expression under control for if there was skullduggery afoot, we must appear as if we suspect nothing.
The Queen slipped from her seat. “Shall we greet Lord Cumberland’s spawn?” Florence rose, her fists clenched at her sides. I thought I could see steam coming from Granny’s ears. We exited the door, following Victoria who was preceded by two Dragoons while two more guards took up the rear.
We arrived at the official greeting room that was resplendent in red and gold. A lone figure of a man stood in the center of the room. I was staring so intently at the dandy that I tripped over Granny and pitched forward. Thankfully, Florence’s reflexes were quick, and she extended her arm to block my fall. The polished marble floors of the Palace were a nuisance.
We watched in silence as the Queen stepped up to the platform and settled onto her throne. There were times when she reminded me of a little girl playing at being royalty. This was one of those times.
Victoria beckoned the three of us to stand closer to her. We gathered at the foot of the platform, Florence in front, while Granny and I stood behind.
Prince George of Hanover was most certainly the man I had seen alight from the large dark carriage. I did not see the small man in the dark suit. Not a word was spoken for long minutes as tension crackled in the air.
Chapter 10
Lord Cumberland’s son did not resemble the portly father, quite the opposite. His slender form exaggerated his height. He had a beak-like nose with a high forehead, while a thin mustache covered his upper lip and a dark brown beard outlined his mandible in what I believed was a vain attempt to give him a firm jaw. He did bear what appeared to be a damaged right eye much like his father’s but without the battle scar. It was hard to imagine him related to our Queen.
Although he didn’t fidget, there was a twitchiness about him. He appeared to be a man striving hard to look like he expected respect while he possessed an underlying timidity. It soon became obvious he could not see out of his damaged eye; perhaps that was the reason for his shyness.
“Cousin George, your attendance at court is a great surprise,” Victoria said, there was no warmth in her voice nor did she use his title as she introduced him to us. After her uncle’s attempts to prevent her from taking the throne, she had every right to hold the Cumberland branch of the family at a distance. “We demand to know the intention of your visit.” She had changed to the royal We.
With a slight stammer, George came to the point. “I understand that we Hanoverians are not invited to attend your wedding; that is regrettable but understandable. It hurts me to know that not only my father, but my mother treated you most abominably.”
Queen Victoria looked down her tiny nose at this popinjay in satin and lost control of her anger. “That is the understatement of the century,” she snapped. “Your mother attempted to have us assassinated! Your father helped her escape punishment! And now you have the temerity to show your face here? How are we to respond to your visit, cousin? Hold you prisoner? Subject you to one or two attempts on your life?”
He smiled a feeble smile. “Please wait until you hear why I have come.” He kept his one good eye fixed on Victoria. “I hold such fond memories of our childhood days spent together.”
Queen Victoria looked puzzled. Not one to contain her thoughts, she said, “Odd it is that I have no such memories. Remind me please, when did we spend time together?”
“You always were clever with a tease,” he said. “My vision is not what it was back then, but I can see that you have become a beauty. My father’s words of praise were quite truthful; you did blossom. Would that his hopes for our union had come to fruition. We would be regarded as a most handsome couple.”
A dimple appeared at one side of Victoria’s mouth. She had taken his praise for what it was worth—a joke. Butter might melt in the Prince’s mouth. I could no more see our feisty queen married to this groveler than to me. Ugh … shivering was getting to be a habit.
Victoria held her mouth in a tight grim line, folding the dimple in on itself. “Why have you really come? I shall hear you out and then throw you out.”
I peeked at Florence sensing her tense. Despite the presence of four Dragoons ready to lay down their lives for their Queen, Florence readied herself to lunge in Victoria’s defense. I noticed her hand slip down protecting Athena whose tiny head peeked from her pocket. I heard a soft growl and assumed it was Granny as she set herself at the ready. The man would be a fool to move on our Queen.
Prince George smirked. It was a look of bemusement. “I came to buy that emerald you hold in the Tower. It is no secret that the jewel is cursed and I am willing to free you from the hex.”
Queen Victoria fell back in her chair; the movement was imperceptible except to me. Our ruler was stunned. Of all the things her cousin could have requested this was by far the most unexpected.
“You are in possession of a quarter of a million pounds to spend on baubles? Since when does the heir of a small country enjoy such wealth? Behind every considerable fortune is a great crime; not always but often.”
“Do not take my offer lightly. I have my own inheritance from my mother’s family and can do with it as I will.”
I suddenly wished the emerald were truly cursed.
It would be a fitting punishment for Duchess Frederica.
The Queen appeared to be mulling over his proposal. “Your offer is unexpected and will take some time to consider. We will give you our answer on the morrow. In the meantime, you will understand if we do not extend the comforts of Buckingham or St. James Palace to you. Given your family’s history of attempted assassinations, we will rest easier if you find lodgings somewhere in London. Return here tomorrow at midday.”
“Fair enough,” Prince George said. With a sweeping bow he backed out of the room.
There had been no mention of the man in the dark coat.
“Kneepsy!” Granny exclaimed once Prince George had left the room. “That duke-let must have heard of Madame Tchotchke’s dying declaration of curse-less-ness. He certainly wasted no time in placing his offer. All the way from Hanover in less than a day!”
The Queen nibbled on her lower lip. “It is odd. The Prince’s offer is something I must discuss with Lord Melbourne for he has been charged with selling the emerald.” She turned on Florence. “I do wish you would inform me as to your suspicions since that might give me an indication of whether Madame Tchotchke spoke the truth.” She smiled a wicked smile. It played across her lips and found its way to her eyes. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to sell the jewel to the Cumberlands if it did carry a curse.”
The expression on Florence’s face grew tight, her features drawing up to what I secretly called her stone face. “I am not ready to disclose what I have learned thus far, Your Majesty. You will be the first to know when the details are clear and there is no way the killer can escape the consequences.”
I jumped at the sound of the Queen’s loud sigh, thinking her in pain. “Princess Frederica slipped through our fingers. Yet another Palace murder shall not elude us. I caution you that patience is not one of my virtues, Miss Nightingale.”
Chapter 11
Feeling the burden of knowing something the others did not seem to be aware of, I spoke. “No mention has been made of the odd man who arrived in Prince George’s company. Did anyone else see him? He was not dressed as a valet; there was something … shady about him. I trust he is not roaming the Palace unfettered.”
Three heads whipped my way each wearing a look of horror. “My cousin did not arrive alone?” A frown cut the Queen’s brow as she questioned me.
When I shook my head, she immediately instructed one of the guards to summon Captain Wainright. The commander of the Dragoons arrived within a few minutes. During those precious moments the four of us exchanged worried looks while Dash burrowed his head into Victoria’s side.
“Captain, there is a man lurking about the Palace!” exclaimed the Queen. “He was seen arriving with Prince George but is unaccounted for. I wish him to be found and brought before me. Oh and make certain that the Prince has left the premises. I suggest you question the footmen who saw to his arrival and departure. Note if he took that mysterious man with him.”
I described the Prince’s traveling companion as best I could. “His odd beard and spectacles will make him stand out.” I said. Wainright listened carefully and then left the room in great haste.
Once the Captain departed, we Derbyshire Damsels stood between the Queen and the four Dragoons thus providing Her Majesty a moment of privacy. She had turned pale, her lovely complexion exactly matching the color of the string of pearls she wore. Victoria had become a young lady in fear for her life.
Gathering Dash in her arms, Queen Victoria stood carefully using the footstool to step to the floor. “We wish your company at supper this evening.” She stared unsmiling at the Derbyshire Damsels. I did not like the sound of that We. Had Florence offended Her Majesty? I did so wish my friend would share what she knew—unless of course she was bluffing. Perhaps the almost legendary sleuth was as clueless as I? I thought of the green tinge on Madame Tchotchke’s back and shuddered.
I had never seen Lord Melbourne get truly angry, annoyed yes, but he was in a fury; a restrained rage which was rather scary. He spoke so softly I shuddered at his tone. “Captain Wainright, the people of England are holding you directly answerable for the Queen’s safety. You will find that man who invaded the Palace without royal permission and bring him to me. I do not need to command you, for your devotion to our Queen is a given. But you will present that creature to me before the sun sets!” Lord Melbourne’s voice echoed off the walls. Not even the heavy tapestries could absorb the resonance of his anger.
Dragoons to scullery maids, all able-bodied persons set about hunting in the bleakest of nooks and the deepest of crannies for the strange man. But as night settled, the man in the dark suit and spectacles could not be found.
I imagined everyone in the Palace heard the Captain as he bellowed to the footmen who had been on duty when Prince George arrived. “We will deal with your negligence later, but now advise me in what direction the mystery man headed.”
Granny, Florence, and I refreshed ourselves in our apartment and made ready for supper. It was time to feed Athena. The little bird had been forgiving of her mistress’s lack of attention, but now she squawked from her pocket perch.
As we entered the room, I noticed a cup with paper fastened across the top. It sat on the entrance table. Florence picked up both the mug and a note card that was braced against it. She read the sheet aloud, “Fresh from the garden.” She turned the paper towards me; in place of a signature there was a small sketch of the moon.
Florence looked at me. “He is a kind man. You might wish to consider him despite the obvious objections your parents will raise.”
I shook my head, denying her suggestion for my father would never give his permission for me to wed a servant, and my mother might lock me in my room for the rest of my life. A part of me did wish Moon held a title or even a key to a kingdom that would open my parents to… well, I wasn’t yet sure what I wanted.
Athena was now of the size where she could manage an entire worm herself and for that I was thankful. Florence handled enough icky things in the course of the day without going through the ritual of cutting wriggling worms to bits. I could never associate the lady who avoided what she called germs with the lady who handled dead people and chopped worms.
As I observed the worm, the image of Madame Tchotchke’s green shoulders passed before my eyes causing my stomach to float into my throat. Several deep breaths restored my tummy.
I delayed getting dressed, pretending to watch the hungry little owl gobble her dinner rather than submit to the ministrations of the ladies’ maids. The women were an irritation as they hovered waiting to prepare us for supper. The Derbyshire Damsels tolerated their Palace assigned servants, but it was not easy. The maids were forever fussing and flitting like deer flies. It was all I could do not to swat them.
With Florence it wasn’t always easy to judge if she had changed her dress or not. When I saw she was ready to leave our chambers, she looked as she had earlier in the day. The three gowns she brought with her were almost identical—dark with white lace collars and pockets deep enough to carry Athena. My friend did not allow herself to be distracted by trifling fancies.
Spit-spot, we three were dressed and ready to dine. Granny managed to slip on a pair of evening gloves before we dashed out the door. Braxton escorted us to a small, cheery dining room. The walls were papered in a rich red embossed paper while gold-rimmed white china plates sat in stark contrast to the red tablecloth.
Lord Melbourne stood to greet us as three footmen held our chairs. We sat, then stood again when the Queen arrived with Dash running at her heels. She seemed in a better mood and once seated she began chatting amiably.
The servers brought in a platter of steamed fish, each one looking as if it had just been plucked from the stream—head and tail included. I have never been able to enjoy eating anything that was looking back at me, but I did my best to pick at the trout while concentrating on the cheesed potatoes, broad beans, and winter lettuce.
So far, so good. It seemed
that everyone was in a friendly mood. We talked of light matters—flowers and food. Until…
Chapter 12
Just as we had begun the next course, which was roast beef with luscious mushroom gravy, Lord Melbourne brought up the nasty subject hiding in the corners of my mind.
“Your Majesty, please avail yourself with the presence of Miss Nightingale and the Throckmortens this evening until we find that unknown person who still lurks within the Palace halls,” Lord Melbourne said. “I will retire early but sleep lightly. Should you need me, you have only to send a servant.”
“Lord M, I am quite capable of protecting myself. As you know, I possess a pistol and I am not afraid to use it.” She turned her attention to Florence. “As much as I delight in the company of the Derbyshire Damsels, I wish to spend this night alone. I would have you attend me early tomorrow morning—about six should be just perfect.”
Six in the morning? I tried not to let surprise register on my face.
The Queen quickly followed her request by announcing she was finished eating. Once the Queen declares the meal over, it is done. I placed my fork on my plate and stood with the rest of our party, nodding as Her Majesty left the room accompanied by two guards.
Once we were alone, Florence stated her intention to retire to the small parlor with those medical books. “I have a wee bit more research to do regarding the murder of Madame Tchotchke,” she said, and left with a swift sweep of her skirts.
Lord Melbourne turned to Granny and me. “Ladies, I bid you good evening. I shall be in my chambers should you require my assistance.”
Moon escorted us to our chambers, which suited me since I would enjoy his light conversation. Dear Granny seemed more tired than usual; she supported herself on Moon’s arm. It wasn’t proper for a servant to touch a guest but with all that had occurred in the past few days I doubted anyone would question our manners.
Florence Nightingale Comedy Mysteries Box Set Page 37