But as the day went on there was no sign of Melbourne. Victoria attempted one of the new Schubert duets with Harriet Sutherland, but try as she might she could not find the tempo. At last she gave up and started to pace up and down the music room. Her ladies stood in a semicircle waiting for her to stop.
“I don’t understand what can have happened to Lord Melbourne. I sent a letter this morning. He usually comes straightaway.”
Victoria saw Harriet and Emma look at each other. Before she could ask them what that look meant, the Duchess of Kent came into the room unannounced. She was clearly in a state of excitement.
“Drina, I am just hearing about what happened with Wellington. What a pity. But you must not worry, I have a plan.”
Victoria smiled. “A plan, Mama?”
The Duchess walked over and took Victoria’s hands in hers. “Yes, mein Liebe, I have talked to Sir John and we think that the best thing to do is summon Robert Peel.”
Victoria broke away from her mother at the mention of Conroy. “I see. Well, I thank you for your concern, but as it happens I have a plan of my own.” She turned to Emma Portman. “Your carriage is unmarked, isn’t it, Emma?”
Emma nodded, puzzled.
“Be so good as to have it brought round. Lehzen, I shall need you to come with me.”
Lehzen turned to the Queen. “Where are we going, Majesty?”
“Dover House.”
The Duchess drew in her breath sharply. “But Drina, Lord Melbourne has resigned. A queen cannot go chasing after her prime minister. Do you really want another scandal?”
Victoria ignored her and walked out of the room, followed by Lehzen.
“What will people think?” wailed the Duchess. But there was no reply.
* * *
Melbourne sat in his favourite armchair in the library. It was by no means the smartest chair in his possession—the green leather was worn and cracked in places—but it had belonged to his father and no other chair was as comfortable. He had picked up a volume of Gibbon, hoping to distract himself by reading about the excesses of ancient Rome. But the words refused to make themselves intelligible. He kept thinking of the note from the palace. Please come, she had written, at your earliest convenience.
He knew that he should reply, explain to her that things were different now that he was no longer her prime minister. He could not just go to the palace; people would assume that she had summoned him to form a government. It would be wrong for him to go until she had appointed a new prime minister. But as he thought of the letter he should write, he also thought of Victoria’s small face and shining blue eyes, and could not summon the resolve he needed.
A sound disturbed his reverie. The door opened behind him, and without looking round he barked, “I thought I said I wasn’t to be disturbed.”
There was a cough, and then a small, high, utterly familiar voice said, “I hope you will forgive me, Lord M.”
The Queen was here in his library. Melbourne leapt to his feet, frantically tugging down his waistcoat and pulling his neckcloth into position.
“Your Majesty. Forgive me, I was not expecting visitors.”
Victoria smiled. She rather enjoyed seeing Melbourne caught off his guard. “Evidently.”
She looked around the room. Every surface was covered in piles of books and drifts of paper. There was a dish with a half-eaten pie on the desk and an empty decanter. It was not a room fit for a queen. Melbourne thanked God he had kept his boots on.
“You always talk about your library, so I am glad to see it at last.”
“If I had known you were coming, ma’am…” He gave her a little bow.
“As you did not reply to my letter, I thought I should come to you.”
“Alone, ma’am?”
“No, Lehzen is outside.”
“I see. But what am I thinking? Please come and sit down.”
He led her over to the chair he had been sitting in, but she shook her head and took the one opposite. “I won’t deprive you of your favourite chair, Lord M,” she said, smiling.
Melbourne looked at her and, at her nod, took his seat. It felt very odd to see the Queen sitting opposite him when five minutes ago he had been imagining her presence.
“What can I do for you, ma’am?”
“I saw the Duke of Wellington this morning. He says that he is too old to be prime minister and that I should send for Robert Peel.” She put her head on one side and looked at him appealingly.
“I thought that might happen. But there is no cause for alarm. Sir Robert Peel is not such a bad fellow. A little serious perhaps, but honest and straightforward. You should have no trouble with him.” He forced himself to give her a reassuring smile.
“Do you remember the day of your accession, ma’am? You were playing with your dolls, and I wondered if such a young girl could really be Queen?”
Victoria lifted her chin. “I wasn’t playing with the dolls. You asked me about them.”
Melbourne wanted to laugh at her vehemence. “The point is that as soon as I heard you speak I knew that you were a queen in every sense, ma’am. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to serve you, but you will manage very well without me.”
“But I don’t want to!”
Melbourne leant towards her, “Even queens have to do things they don’t like.”
Victoria began to pout. “It seems to me that I am never to do anything I do like. Why can’t you just come back? You haven’t lost a vote yet. I am sure you could manage.”
Melbourne hesitated, and then, in a voice quite different to his usual amused tone, he said, “You know, ma’am, that I don’t believe in much. But there is one thing that I do believe in, and that is the British constitution, in all its tattered glory. For me to return without the support of the House would be unconstitutional, and nothing—” He paused, and his voice grew lower. “—not even my devotion to you, will stop me from doing my duty.”
Victoria stared back at him, blankly. “I see.”
“As I said, Peel is not such a bad fellow really. Just remember that if he suggests anything you don’t agree with, tell him that you need time to consider. If in doubt, always delay.”
She hesitated, and then said in her usual tone, “And will you come to dinner tonight, Lord M? So I can tell you all about it?”
Melbourne blinked. This was much harder even than he had imagined. “Not tonight, ma’am. Not until this matter is settled, and even then I cannot be with you as constantly as I have been.”
Victoria stood up, and when he too had got to his feet, she said, “But why not? You may not be my Prime Minister, but you are still, I think, my friend.”
She looked up at him as she said this, and Melbourne felt the force of her clear blue gaze. He lowered his eyes and said as gently as he could, “I think you must understand why.”
He paused and then said, a little more strongly, “A monarch cannot be seen to favour one party only. You must dine with Robert Peel.”
Victoria turned her head away from him. He saw, with a pang, the delicate ear surrounded by the thick braid. But he must continue. “He will probably ask you to make some changes to your household. Harriet Sutherland and Emma Portman are married to Whig ministers. Sir Robert will want you to have some Tory ladies about you.”
Victoria looked back at him, and he could see that there were red spots on her cheeks.
“Tory ladies? No, thank you!”
This time Melbourne averted his gaze. “Remember, ma’am, that I would ask the same thing in his position. A prime minister cannot function if he feels that he does not have the confidence of his monarch.”
To his surprise, Victoria did not protest at this, and a flicker of something he did not recognise passed over her face. She smoothed down her skirts with that quick, deft gesture that she had, and said crisply, “I shall disturb you no longer, Lord Melbourne. Thank you for your advice.”
At the door he saw Lehzen, who was waiting in the hall, frown as th
ey came out. Partly for her benefit, Melbourne said, “You will send for Peel?”
“Don’t worry, Lord Melbourne. You may not be my Prime Minister, but I still listen to you. I will talk to Peel directly.”
“A wise decision, ma’am.”
Victoria did not reply. She pulled her veil down over her face, so that she would not be seen by any passersby, and got into the carriage, Lehzen bustling in her wake. She did not look back.
* * *
Victoria had put some thought into the location of her first meeting with Sir Robert Peel. She always received Melbourne in her private sitting room, but that was too intimate for the Tory leader. The throne room would be more imposing, and while she saw Melbourne alone, she decided that she would have her ladies with her. She had not met Peel before, and it was important that she had all the support at her disposal.
At three o’clock, the time Peel was expected, she was looking at the designs for the coinage with her ladies. The drawings were laid out on a table in front of her, together with a prototype of the new crown piece.
Victoria sighed with exasperation when she examined them. “I have no chin in this one, and two chins in the next one. How can they say it is an accurate likeness when none of these images looks the same?” She tapped her foot in temper.
Harriet picked up the coin and held it out to her with her most emollient smile. “But look at the coin itself, ma’am. It is more convincing in relief, I think.”
Victoria’s foot tap turned into a stamp. “But I look like a goose wearing a crown!”
Before Harriet and Emma could protest, the door opened and Penge announced Sir Robert Peel.
Victoria held out her hand for Peel to kiss. As he was uncommonly tall, he had to bend right over, and she saw a patch of pink at the top of his head where his hair was thinning. This gave her confidence.
“Good afternoon, Sir Robert. I was just inspecting the designs for the new coins. I am not sure that I am satisfied with them. Tell me, what do you think of this?”
She pointed to the coin on the table. Peel picked it up and examined it carefully, taking out his eyeglass so that he could peruse every detail. Finally, and with great deliberation, he said, “I see nothing wrong with it, ma’am. Indeed, I would say it is an excellent likeness.”
Victoria had not expected to like Sir Robert Peel, and now she knew that she had been correct.
“An excellent likeness. Really?”
Her voice was so icy that Harriet and Emma looked at each other in alarm, but Peel did not seem to feel the froideur and carried on in just the same tone, “Yes, ma’am. Most coins are quite crude in their detail, but this one is remarkably accurate.”
Victoria stared at him with distaste. The profile on the coin was quite hideous; it was out of the question that her likeness should be immortalized in this way. Melbourne, of course, would have seen that at once. She shook her head. “Nevertheless, it will not do.”
Peel was about to say something more, but Emma Portman gave him a warning glance.
Victoria continued, “But you are here on business, Sir Robert.”
Relieved to be on safer ground, Peel nodded, and then glanced at the ladies-in-waiting who stood behind the Queen like a praetorian guard in petticoats. He swallowed and said, “Perhaps if I might have a private audience, ma’am.”
Victoria raised her chin, considering her next move. She decided that it would be better to conduct this part of the audience alone, so she nodded her head in regretful dismissal, and in a rustle of silk umbrage they left the room.
Picking up Dash, who was growling at Peel’s feet, Victoria settled herself on a sofa. She did not invite Peel to sit, which left him hovering in front of her like a reluctant heron. After waiting a moment, Victoria raised an eyebrow and said, “Well, Sir Robert?”
Peel put his thumb in his waistcoat pocket, a gesture he often adopted when addressing the House of Commons. “I am here to assure you, ma’am, that I have enough support in the House to form a government.”
Victoria inclined her head with the smallest possible movement, making it quite clear to Peel that he might have the support of the House, but here in the palace things were different. Peel, however, had faced down more alarming audiences than a teenage girl, even if she was the sovereign. He put the other thumb in his waistcoat and faced the Queen as if she were the leader of the opposition.
“As you know, ma’am, any government serves at the pleasure of the Crown.”
Victoria played with Dash’s ear. “I do know how the Constitution works, Sir Robert.”
Peel tried to ignore the frostiness in her tone. “And of course, ma’am, you know that it is essential that the Crown—” He hesitated, remembering that he was not, after all, in the chamber, and continued in a less rhetorical tone, “That is, yourself—must appear to be above party politics and favour neither side over the other.”
Victoria raised her head to look at him, and it was all he could do not to take a step back. “Have you come to give me a lesson in government, Sir Robert?”
Peel took a deep breath, and said boldly, “There is the question of your household, ma’am.”
“My household?” Victoria repeated slowly.
Peel decided to plunge in, and in what he imagined to be his most reasonable voice, said, “Two of your ladies, ma’am, are married to Melbourne’s ministers, and your maids of honour are all the daughters of Whig peers. If you were to replace one or two of them with ladies who are connected to my side of the House, then there would be no danger of you appearing to favour one side over the other.”
The Queen sat up very straight, and Peel noticed Dash tense too, as if ready to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse.
“You want me to give up my ladies, my closest and dearest friends. Whatever next, Sir Robert? My dressers? The housemaids? Do you want to surround me with spies?!”
The anger in Victoria’s voice surprised Peel, who said slowly, “It is not my intention to deprive you of your friends, ma’am, merely to ask you to be friendly to all.”
Victoria flicked an imaginary speck of dust from her skirts. “I absolutely will not give up my ladies, Sir Robert!”
Peel spoke without thinking. “What, not even one?”
Victoria looked at him for a second, and then, “I think I have made myself clear. Good afternoon, Sir Robert.”
Peel hesitated, wondering if he should say anything more, but he caught a flash of blue and realised that there was no point. He started to turn before remembering that he was meant to back out of the room. He took a few awkward steps and then, as the Queen seemed to be preoccupied with her dog, he turned and walked away as fast as he could.
Victoria waited until Sir Robert was out of sight, if not out of earshot, and taking Dash’s muzzle she said playfully, “Your mama isn’t going to be told what to do by Sir Robert Peel, or by anyone else.”
And Dash, hearing the note of adventure in his mistress’s voice, wagged his tail as hard as he could.
* * *
Sir Robert did not go home directly. Instead he told the coachman to call at Apsley House, or as the Duke of Wellington liked to call it, Number One London. He found Wellington in his library. From the other man’s high colour and slightly crotchety manner, Peel suspected that he had woken him from an afternoon nap. This made him regret his impulse to visit, but he felt that he must tell someone about his audience with the Queen.
Wellington turned to him, his pale blue eyes assessing. “Have you come straight from the palace? Would you like some tea? No, by the looks of you, you want something stronger.” He gestured to the butler. “Brandy and soda.”
Then to Peel, “I take it that your audience was not successful?”
Peel took a gulp from the schooner of brandy that was put before him. “She dismissed me like a footman caught stealing the silver.”
Wellington raised an eyebrow. “It appears the Queen has her grandfather’s temper. But she cannot refuse you.”
Peel sa
t down heavily in one of the buttoned leather chairs. “I am afraid she has. She won’t change a single lady.”
Wellington made a sound halfway between a bark and a snort. “Nonsense, man, go back and offer her someone charming like Emily Anglesey. I am sure Her Little Majesty would swap her for a busybody like Emma Portman.”
Peel drained his glass and said with feeling, “I am sorry, Duke, but I cannot form a ministry on the basis of Lady Anglesey’s charms.”
Wellington tapped him on the shoulder, and as Peel looked up he felt how powerful the Duke’s presence on the battlefield must have been.
“Can’t or won’t? No stomach for the fight, eh? You need to win her over like Melbourne does.”
Peel got to his feet; clearly this visit had been a mistake. He said stiffly, “I am afraid I do not have Lord Melbourne’s ease of manner.”
Wellington laughed at his offended face. “Or his way with women, Peel. She would be yours if you would just flirt with her a little.”
Peel longed for his own drawing room and the sympathy of his wife. His job was to form a government, not to pander to the fancies of eighteen-year-old girls. “I had not realised that flirting was a prerequisite for being prime minister, Duke. And now, if you will excuse me, I will detain you no longer.”
For the second time that day Sir Robert Peel left a room feeling that he had been wronged.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was an unhappy dinner at the palace that night. Victoria sat at one end of the table and the Duchess of Kent at the other, and as they would not speak to each other, it fell to the household to keep some semblance of conviviality. Lord Alfred Paget told a long and involved story about his attempts to teach his dog Mrs Bumps to play chess. Harriet and Emma tried to embellish the anecdote until it became almost a conversation. Emma volunteered that her aunt had a cat who played piquet, and Harriet confided that there was a parrot at Ragsby who kept score in the billiard room. Normally this was the sort of absurd banter that Victoria delighted in, and the courtiers looked at her to see if she would raise a smile.
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