Victoria

by Daisy Goodwin

  “Not at all. It was my fault; I was distracted.”

  The Grand Duke smiled, showing his white teeth. “Distracted? When you are dancing with a Cossack? I hope it was by your Sir Galahad; it would give me great pleasure to use my friend here to avenge my honour.” He patted the dagger at his belt.

  Victoria laughed with exaggerated delight, knowing that Melbourne would be watching. “Although it would give me great pleasure to see you challenge my cousin George, I must remind you that in this country duelling is illegal.”

  “That is too bad. I think your cousin would benefit from an encounter with a Cossack.”

  “I am sure he would.”

  Then the Grand Duke leant down and said in a gentler voice, “If it is not your cousin who distracts you from me, then it must be someone else. I do not see anyone else here who is a suitable candidate for your hand.” Seeing the look on Victoria’s face, he added, “But perhaps he is an unsuitable candidate.”

  Victoria blushed in confusion.

  “I am sorry to embarrass you. But we cannot love where we please, you and I. Or at least we can love, but we cannot marry.”

  “I don’t think I shall ever marry.”

  “No? Perhaps you are right. Better to reign alone than to marry without love.” The Grand Duke looked down at her and sighed. “But you, I think, have a choice, whereas I do not.”

  Victoria saw the shadow pass across his face.

  “No one can force you to do anything, surely?”

  “You don’t know my father, your esteemed godfather. He has very definite ideas about my marriage. My wishes are of no interest to him.” He gave Victoria a look intended to convey the possibility that she might have been one of his wishes.

  Victoria smiled and was about to say something when the music stopped. Private conversation became impossible as Prince George, goaded into action by his uncle, came forward to claim his prize. “I believe that this is my dance.”

  Victoria glanced towards where Melbourne was talking to Emma Portman. Satisfied that he was looking at her, she took George’s outstretched hand with a brilliant smile.

  Emma saw the Queen’s maneuver and said to Melbourne, “I hope that Queen Elizabeth has saved a dance for the Earl of Leicester. They were devoted to each other, I believe.”

  Melbourne looked at her sideways. “You are very well informed, Emma, as always. But I do not think that the Queen has time to dance with an old man.”

  “Oh, I think she might spare a dance for you, for the Earl of Leicester’s sake.”

  “I wonder.” Melbourne looked over to where Victoria was dancing with George, a bright, fixed smile on her face.

  “What beautiful flowers she is wearing, William. They must be from an admirer.”

  “Yes, Emma, I suppose they must.”

  Victoria’s feet were bruised by the end of her dance with George. He had stepped on them on every turn, and because his feet were encased in armour he seemed unaware of the fact. Their conversation was similarly clumsy.

  “The ball is very splendid, is it not?” Victoria asked, thinking she must say something.

  George frowned, and stepped on her foot again. “Yes. Tolerably good show, I suppose, but if you really want to see something splendid, you should come to one of our regimental balls. They are quite something.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. In fact, it would be an uncommonly good show if you were to come to the next one. My regiment would be tickled pink to dance with the Queen.”

  “I am not sure I can promise to dance with all of them,” said Victoria, wincing as he stepped on her foot again.

  “Oh, you won’t have to dance with the junior officers. They wouldn’t expect it.”

  Victoria raised an eyebrow. “Really?” she said again.

  George did not hear the warning note in her voice and carried on cheerfully about the splendours of his regiment, and how she would be a great asset to his standing among his fellow officers.

  When the music stopped, Victoria saw to her horror that George was about to lead her into the next dance. “You must excuse me, George. I think I shall sit this one out.”

  “Then allow me to accompany you.”

  “No indeed. Not when there are so many nymphs who are hoping to dance with Sir Galahad.”

  “Actually, Victoria, I am Sir Lancelot.”

  Victoria smiled and made her way towards the retiring room. Lehzen was at her side immediately.

  “Are you quite well, Majesty?”

  “Apart from my feet, which may never recover from my dance with Prince George.”

  In the retiring room she looked at herself in the mirror and adjusted her wig. There was colour in her face after the dancing. She looked at the spray of flowers on her breast; the petals of the orchids looked cool and untouched. She wondered if she would speak to Melbourne tonight. She decided that if he approached her, she would not ignore him, but she would do nothing herself. She would not look at him, let alone smile. Things could not be as they had been.

  As she came out of the retiring room, with Lehzen walking behind her, she saw Cumberland and George standing with their backs to her.

  “Why aren’t you with her, George? Every moment is precious. Don’t you want to be the most powerful man in the country?” Cumberland was pointing his finger at George, but George, who had obviously spent the interval since their last dance refreshing himself with claret cup, swayed slightly and said, “It’s no use, Uncle. Even if I were Victoria’s husband, I would never be the master in the house. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life dancing attendance on a midget.”

  Lehzen, who was also listening to this exchange, made an exclamation of disgust, which caused the two men to turn around. Victoria had the satisfaction of seeing their faces freeze as they registered her presence. She walked past without looking at them, and as she left them behind she heard Cumberland say in fury, “Sir Lancelot indeed!”

  Victoria saw Lord Alfred Paget on the other side of the ballroom making his way towards her, but before he reached her, she heard the voice she had been waiting for.

  “Would you do me the honour, ma’am?”

  “I am afraid I have promised this dance to Lord Alfred.”

  “I hope there is somewhere on your card for me.”

  Victoria pretended to consult her card. Alfred immediately saw that he was de trop and made a little bow to Victoria. “If you would excuse me, ma’am, for this dance. I believe our hostess needs my assistance. I hope that Lord Melbourne will take my place.”

  Melbourne looked at Victoria and she, not trusting herself to speak, simply nodded.

  They danced in silence for a minute or two. Melbourne could feel Victoria trembling through the heavy carapace of her dress. Finally he spoke. “I see that you have not been short of partners, ma’am. I saw you dancing with Prince George. I hope he was suitably attentive.”

  “I think he wants to dance with the Queen, but not necessarily with me,” said Victoria. “I overheard him telling Uncle Cumberland that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life dancing attendance on a midget.”

  “Then he is even more of a fool than I took him for,” said Melbourne angrily. He looked at Victoria more closely. “You cannot be insulted by a man of such limited intelligence.”

  “Perhaps he was just telling the truth as he saw it.”

  Melbourne shook his head. “He is an idiot, and you are to pay him no mind, ma’am.”

  “You think he is an idiot because he does not choose to be my husband?” Victoria said, looking up at Melbourne with challenge in her eyes.

  Melbourne did not reply, but then as the dance caused them to move apart, he saw the flowers pinned to her dress. Victoria blushed at his glance.

  “They are very beautiful. The flowers.”

  Melbourne put his hand a little further round her waist. “Then they are worthy of you.”

  Victoria heard something in his voice which made her turn away in confusion. “I
didn’t know if I would dance with you tonight.”

  Melbourne looked at her intently. “I hope that Queen Elizabeth would not desert her Leicester.”

  Victoria raised an eyebrow. “Leicester was her companion?”

  Melbourne locked eyes with her. “He was. He had a wife at first, but then she died.”

  Victoria did not look away, although she found the conversation almost unbearable. What did he mean?

  “But even though he was free, they never married?” she asked.

  Melbourne paused as they turned the corner of the dance floor, and then in a lower voice he said, “I think he and the Queen both knew that they were not in a position to marry. However strong their inclination.”

  Victoria looked up at his melancholy green eyes. “Was their inclination very strong?” she said softly.

  Melbourne replied almost in a whisper, “Yes. I believe it was.”

  Victoria felt her heart flood with relief. He was telling her that he did care for her after all, but then she sighed because he was also telling her they could never marry. She would not let her guard down again. She lifted her chin. “Elizabeth was a great queen. I mean to learn from her example.”

  Melbourne nodded, satisfied that she understood. “She had a long and glorious reign, ma’am. Without interference.”

  The music stopped, and Melbourne released Victoria with a bow.

  “And now I must leave you … my lord Leicester,” Victoria said. “I have promised the Grand Duke that he could take me in to supper.”

  Melbourne smiled. “I cannot stand in the way of a Cossack.”

  After supper, Victoria danced a polka with Lord Alfred, who was as light on his feet as he was easy to talk to. They came off the floor laughing and breathless, and before she knew what she was doing Victoria found herself standing in front of a tall figure all in black apart from his white mask. He took the mask away from his face and Victoria saw that it was Conroy.

  He stretched his mouth into a smile, and with a courtly flourish he held out his hand and said, “May I engage you for the next dance, ma’am?”

  Victoria hesitated, but then she put her gloved fingertips in his.

  It was not a waltz, for which Victoria was grateful, but a minuet, which meant they did not always have to be in close proximity. When they stood opposite each other at the head of the set, Conroy said, “I am honoured that you would dance with me, ma’am.”

  Victoria said as they passed each other on the diagonal, “I thought I should like to understand what my mother sees in you, Sir John.”

  Conroy said evenly, “I believe she values my company. She has long been a widow, and of course, as your mother, she was in no position to remarry.”

  Victoria crossed to the other side of the set. “I see.”

  As they came together to go down the line of dancers, Conroy said, “But for you it is different. The country needs an heir to the throne and you need a husband to check your behaviour.”

  They were both facing straight ahead and Victoria said tightly, without looking round, “Really, Sir John, and who would you recommend to keep me under control?”

  They ducked under the outstretched arms of the couple in front of them, and as they straightened up, Conroy said, “Your mother thinks that you would be happy with your cousin Albert.”

  “And what do you think, Sir John?” Victoria said as she turned away from him.

  On her return Conroy answered with, “I think he is a serious young man, who understands the duties of a modern monarch. He will not be swayed by sentiment or folly. And I am sure he will understand the value of experience.”

  Victoria, who had been trying to understand Conroy’s motives in recommending a match with Albert, began to discern his plan. “I see. And I suppose you imagine he will need an advisor?”

  Conroy gave a half smile as he approached her to form an arch. “Who knows, ma’am? After all, I have some experience in these matters.”

  Victoria put her arms down, and said quietly but distinctly, “At present I have no intention of marrying, Sir John. But if I did, it would not be to anyone who would choose to be advised by you. You may have my mother in your pocket, but you will never, ever have me.”

  To her surprise Conroy smiled. “As you know, ma’am, I have spent the last nineteen years serving your mother, but perhaps it is time now for me to return to Ireland. I have an estate there which has been much neglected.”

  “That sounds like an excellent plan, Sir John.” She turned her back on him and walked away from the dance floor.

  But Conroy was not to be dismissed so easily. “In order to do that, I should need some assurances. It would be altogether more comfortable if I were to return to the land of my birth garlanded with some acknowledgement of the faithful service I have rendered to the Crown.”

  Victoria looked at him with distaste. “Would the sort of garland you require involve a title, Sir John?”

  “A barony would, I think, reflect the work I have done on behalf of your mother and yourself. But of course, such a title would have to be accompanied by a stipend that would allow me to maintain myself in a way that would not bring disgrace upon my status.”

  Victoria nodded. Although it felt wrong to concede anything to Conroy, the thought of never having to see him again was worth any number of Irish peerages. Why, if she had known that his price was so low, she would have suggested this the day she became Queen.

  “I am sure we can come to some arrangement; that is, if you can assure me that your retirement will be … permanent.”

  Now it was Conroy’s turn to nod, but he still had something to say. “You know, ma’am, I believe that my departure will be very difficult for the Duchess. I think that without me, she will be lonely. Perhaps if you were to pay her the attention she deserves…”

  Victoria put up her hand to signal that she had heard quite enough. “I know how to take care of my mother, Sir John.” She turned her back on him and walked away into the supper room, scattering nymphs and shepherds as she went.

  The Duchess, who had observed this scene from the other side of the ballroom, made her way towards Conroy. “You were dancing with Drina! I could not believe my eyes, but now she is walking away from you. What is happening, dear Sir John? Is she making you angry? She doesn’t know how much you are doing for her.”

  Conroy looked down at the Duchess’s anxious face and heard the eagerness to placate him in her voice. His departure would be very hard for her, he knew. And there might be times, he thought, when he would miss her, that way she had of looking up at him and fluttering her hands. Yes, he would miss her devotion, but even the sensation of being adored could not compensate for a life without power. Conroy would rather go home to Ireland, ennobled and rich, and become the great man there, than linger here watching the chances that should have been his squandered by that ignorant little chit. He knew now that things would never improve for him here. Even if she married Albert, she would stop him from exerting the kind of influence that could bring so much benefit to the monarchy. She was too stubborn ever to change her mind.

  No, he would go back to Ireland and become a man of consequence in a place where those things still mattered. He wondered if he should tell the Duchess of his decision, but as he looked into her liquid blue eyes and felt the butterfly touch of her hand on his arm, he thought that perhaps he would wait. It might be better to be sure that Victoria would fulfill her promises before triggering a painful scene. Yes, he would wait. This ball was so very splendid it seemed foolish not to enjoy it; there would not be many such occasions in Ballymeena.

  “There is nothing to worry about, Duchess. The Queen and I had a very useful conversation. I think it has cleared the air between us. And now I would like to ask the most handsome woman in the room if she would do me the very great honour of dancing with me?” He held out his hand to the Duchess, who took it with a smile that made even the rusty hinge of Conroy’s heart creak.

  * * *

 
Leopold, who had watched Conroy’s exchange with Victoria with interest, was disappointed by the expression of surrender on his sister’s face as she was steered around the room by Conroy. It was time that Conroy exercised his charms elsewhere. His gaze rested more happily on his niece, who was dancing with Alfred Paget. From what Leopold had seen of Lord Alfred, he did not think that his niece was in any danger of succumbing to the charms of this particular dancing partner. But where was Melbourne? Leopold spotted him leaning against a pillar, dressed as an Elizabethan courtier, a costume which, Leopold noted with some pique, showed his legs to advantage. Slowly, so that Melbourne should not recognise his intent and decide to move away, Leopold made a circuit of the dance floor until he found himself standing behind the Prime Minister.

  “Good evening, Lord Melbourne.”

  Melbourne turned and tried but did not altogether succeed in disguising his displeasure at being accosted by the King of the Belgians.

  “Your Majesty.”

  Leopold stepped a little closer and said, “I believe my niece made an impromptu visit to Brocket Hall.”

  Melbourne turned to him. “You are very well informed, sir.”

  Leopold smiled. “I observed that it seemed to leave her in low spirits. Perhaps something in the climate there did not agree with her.”

  Melbourne looked out over the dancers, and said in a colourless voice, “I could not say, sir.”

  “You should know, Lord Melbourne, that I wrote to my nephews Albert and Ernst this morning. They will be here within a week.”

  This made Melbourne turn round, finally shaken out of his weary neutrality. “Without the Queen’s permission?”

  Leopold shrugged. “They are her cousins. I do not think that they need an official invitation. And in my opinion the sooner they come, the better.” He put a hand to his head to adjust the laurel wreath. “Because, as I am sure you know, Lord Melbourne, a young girl’s head can be turned so easily.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Victoria woke up next morning with a feeling that she could not quite identify. Normally after a ball she would lie in bed until lunchtime, but today she almost jumped out of bed. There were so many things to be done. As she walked around her bedroom with Dash at her heels she realised that the cloud that had settled over her since her visit to Brocket Hall had gone. The events of last night had given her a new sense of hope. The conversation with Lord M about Elizabeth and the Earl of Leicester had made her feel that there was some room for her in his heart, whatever he might say about his dead wife. Perhaps they could not marry; and, Victoria acknowledged to herself for the first time, perhaps that was not exactly what she wanted. A marriage would be too difficult politically and, in a way that she could not quite explain to herself, too awkward. It was enough, she thought, to know that he cared for her in the way that she cared for him.