The Princess Dilemma: A Victorian Royal Romance

by Heather Hiestand

  When he brought in the tray, she roused sleepily, her eyelids fluttering. He couldn’t help smiling; it seemed his face had found entirely new ways to move since the night before, or perhaps it had returned to what it once was.

  “I don’t remember falling asleep,” she said, her accent more pronounced in her half-conscious state.

  “I don’t either, but you were in my arms.”

  “What woke you? Do you have a soldier’s sense of time?”

  “Not really. I’ve had rather soft service. But someone brought a tray and the noise woke me.”

  Her eyes opened fully at the mention of food. “I am hungry.” She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, winced.

  “Sore?” He went to his knees in front of her, massaging her calves.

  “That isn’t what is sore, Edward.” She giggled and pushed his hands away. “You took such care. I am surprised.” She turned abruptly and stared at the sheets.

  “No blood,” he confirmed. “Not everyone bleeds the first time. I’ve been told, the older the girl, the less likely it is.”

  “Oh.” She nodded, paused. “Why do you know that?”

  He shook his head ruefully. “All kinds of discussions arise in the officers’ mess. It’s against the rules to talk about military matters.”

  “I am glad you don’t doubt me. I would hate for you to think I lied.”

  “I know you didn’t. I’ve every reason to believe I am the man who awakened you to physical passion. We’ve been coming to this point for nearly two months now.”

  “Has it been that long?”

  “Six weeks.” He shrugged. “But a busy six weeks.”

  “I need to hurry back to the palace. Unless you are ready to take on full responsibility for me.” She waited expectantly.

  His lips pressed together. He felt the tension rise in his body. Standing, he went to the tray and poured her a glass of ale, then gave it to her with a piece of toast. “Break your fast.”

  “Edward, love, I know you aren’t prepared to take me on.”

  “But we’ve risked it anyway. What are the chances that you will be able to return undiscovered?”

  “With unrumpled, appropriate clothing? It is actually rather likely. If I’m seen anywhere I can simply say I’ve been for a walk. Her Majesty has never called for me during the night. She is so happy to have her own room, after a lifetime of being forced to share with her mother.”

  “Poor little queen,” Edward said, feeling the sourness of distaste. “We have all suffered for being the Duke of Kent’s offspring. If only he had lived.”

  “When do you think your claim will be heard?”

  “Very soon. It is a new week.”

  She gestured with her toast. “Victoria will hate you for this.”

  He frowned. “Then we must keep it a secret. She could have my case buried. Or worse.”

  “Like a mysterious carriage accident or back alley knifing?”

  He laughed. “I walk almost everywhere. No, I’m not worried that she’ll have me killed. More like death by tedium, back in Canada. She could have me put on the next boat, case or no. It would be months before I had any resolution.”

  “Yes, of course. I don’t want that.”

  “No. You would be sent to Germany, not Canada. They would separate us again. Your mother would despair. What are you going to do about your brothers?”

  “I’ve sent along instructions to draw on everything you’ve given me. I’ll have my most recent allotment in October as well. I think it is enough to have them back in school.”

  “I am glad. We don’t need uneducated rulers. One thing that has been said about Victoria: She’s intelligent and well educated for a girl.”

  Charlotte nodded. “I am frequently surprised. She knows more about England than I would have thought. She was allowed to tour some.”

  “She’s beloved and I’m an unknown.”

  Charlotte set down her glass and pressed her hand to his. “You mustn’t give up.”

  He stared at her hand on his. “So ready to be Queen of England?”

  “So ready to be your wife,” she said softly.

  He stood, looming over her. She went back on her elbows on the bed. “Prove it, Charlotte.”

  Her knees fell apart as he clutched her hips. “I am at your disposal, sir, for a few more stolen moments at least.”

  “Dawn only broke half an hour ago,” he said, feathering up her flanks with callused fingers.

  She shivered under his rough touch.

  “Do you think, if I prepare you properly, that you can take me without much pain?”

  His fingers danced up her legs, then stroked down her labia.

  Her head fell back. “Yes, I think that is entirely possible.”

  ~

  They ordered Murdo’s carriage to speed their return to their everyday lives. Charlotte rested her head on Edward’s shoulder as the carriage bumped along.

  “I’d like to see your papers,” she said. “So I can completely understand your case.”

  “I wasn’t sure I should trust you enough to share all the details,” he admitted.

  She poked him in the belly. Once, this gesture might have told her if he was hiding male stays under his outer clothing, a technique many men used these days to look their best in the current tight fashions. But after the night before, she knew without a doubt that her husband had the perfect male form. The things he knew how to do with her body made her head spin, even in the relative coolness of morning.

  “You can tell me anything. I am trustworthy. Princesses are raised to keep secrets.”

  “I believe it,” he admitted. “I’m not entirely sure what I haven’t shared with you before. I have a letter from King George III, my grandfather, giving permission to my father to marry my mother. That’s not in my possession at the moment, of course. Then I have a copy of the Aberdeen St. Peter’s church paperwork showing my mother’s Catholic baptismal date as being after my birth.”

  “And that is the full force of your argument?”

  “I have some letters and my mother’s diary. I have copies in my rooms. Early on, she seems to have believed her marriage to be legitimate, as I do. Then there is the letter from my father saying otherwise, and that he’s going to marry Victoria’s mother. Someone who knew my mother well must have stolen it all immediately after her death.”

  “I’d like to see the diary. I remember your mother.”

  “Of course. But we had best make this brief. You need to get back.”

  “It isn’t even seven a.m. yet, and I’ve made a habit of walking in the gardens early this summer. My mind has been troubled.”

  “Because of me?” He took her hand and squeezed it.

  She squeezed back, feeling closer to him than she’d ever felt with another person. “Yes. But this feels right.”

  “It is too bad we have to return you to the palace.”

  She had noticed he hadn’t smiled yet this morning, was back to his old, stern expressions. Trying a smile of her own in his direction didn’t change the lines of his mouth.

  When the carriage came to a stop, he helped her down and they went up to his rooms. Quintin grunted at them both then tottered out of the main room. Edward rolled his eyes, making Charlotte giggle.

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  “He knows you are my wife. He’s simply not convinced you are any good for me.”

  “I’ll prove it to him one of these days.”

  Edward nodded. “My mysterious box is in my trunk. I’ll get those letters for you.”

  They spent half an hour in an armchair. Charlotte rested comfortably on his lap, the box at her elbow. She flipped through the letters and copies of documents, then began on Lady Margot’s diary.

  “She referred to herself as a princess in the beginning,” she said.

  “I’ve always wondered what drove her to the church, when she seems to have taken so much pride in her marriage,” Edward said.
/>   “Did the duke return to his longtime mistress at that point?” Charlotte asked. “What was her name? Madame St. Laurent?”

  “Yes. You are probably right. He didn’t put her off entirely until he married Victoria’s mother.”

  A knocking resounded on the front door. Quintin scuttled in from the kitchen to answer it, muttering something to whoever was at the door before bringing a letter to Edward. Charlotte leapt from her husband’s lap, keeping the box from spilling by clutching it to her chest.

  “Man says you are to go with him,” Quintin said. “Carriage downstairs.”

  Charlotte went to Edward’s side as he opened the missive. “I’m to meet with the prime minister as soon as I receive this.”

  “I will go with you,” Charlotte said immediately.

  “You should not.”

  She shook her head. “I must. You know it is important news.”

  He nodded, his face a hard mask. “I must change into fresh clothing and shave. Wait a moment.”

  He dashed into his room, calling for Quintin, leaving her to wring her hands and pace the floor. Only fifteen minutes later he returned in a fresh shirt and they were following the messenger downstairs to the carriage.

  Charlotte fretted silently during their drive. She knew Lord Melbourne was to be given a personal apartment at Windsor Palace when the court moved, but for now he was living at Melbourne House in Piccadilly.

  When they pulled up in front of the mansion, she squeezed Edward’s hand. “Steady on.”

  He nodded, looking grim. The door opened from outside and the messenger’s face appeared in the door. He helped her down then Edward stepped out.

  “I should have put on my uniform,” he muttered. “I have this feeling I’m going to be put on the next ship out of here.”

  “We’ll see. You are not entirely without friends,” she said softly.

  He raised a brow, as if to ask who these friends might be, but then the front door opened and they were ushered in by an officious-looking butler.

  “Lord Melbourne is in his study,” the butler said. “Follow me please, Colonel.”

  Charlotte followed. No one stopped her, or even looked in her direction. The room they entered was entirely masculine. Dark paneling, deep club chairs, and the prime minister seated behind a massive, ancient desk. He did not stand, just nodded tersely and set down his coffee cup.

  The butler gestured to the chairs in front of the desk.

  Edward helped Charlotte sit, then stood behind her chair.

  “Why is Her Serene Highness present?”

  “We were just returning from an early morning walk. My sister uses the princess as my handler,” Edward said smoothly.

  “I see.” Lord Melbourne narrowed his eyes for a moment, then stroked his whiskers. “Well, Colonel, your games are at an end.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Charlotte felt the air shift behind her as Edward’s stance changed.

  “There was never any game, sir, with all due respect,” Edward said stiffly.

  “You never had any hope of pressing your claim successfully, not after twenty-seven years,” Lord Melbourne said. “But the College of Arms faithfully reviewed your documents and shared their findings with the Privy Council. Whether you knew the truth or not is beside the point. The letter purporting to be from George III is a clear and unassailable forgery.”

  Charlotte turned her head to stare up at her husband. His face had paled, but, a soldier to the bone, he didn’t move despite the blow. “How do you know, my lord?”

  Lord Melbourne held up three thick fingers. “The handwriting is much too bold to be the late king’s. The king was not in residence at Windsor at the time the letter was written, but the letter is on palace stationery. And, Colonel,” he said, ignoring her, “the king was not well on the date of the letter.”

  “He was well in eighteen seven,” Edward said in a level tone.

  Charlotte wondered what it cost him to stay so even-tempered even as his dreams were being dashed.

  “He was recovered and involved in politics at the time. I have done my research.”

  “He was suffering from a bad cold on the date of this letter, Colonel. Do not forget we have access to every detail available about his late majesty’s life. Did you really think it was even possible that the king would have granted his permission for any of his sons to marry so? If he had, the permission would have been entered in the books of the Privy Council. Which this letter was not, incidentally.”

  He swallowed audibly. “My mother was of good family. A duke’s daughter, and her father known to the royal family.”

  “Princesses, Colonel. The king expected princesses for his son, like the queen’s mother. Not a mere duke’s daughter.”

  “So the rest does not matter, because the letter is a forgery,” Edward said.

  “Exactly.”

  “My father must have deceived my mother then, because you can see from her diary that she believed herself legally wed at the start.”

  “She was a foolish girl.” Lord Melbourne spread his hands. “I sincerely hope you are not a foolish man.”

  “I did not think so,” Edward said slowly.

  Charlotte wondered if he was thinking about their night together. Her stomach clenched at the idea of the consequences for her. They were married now, consummated. And her husband had nothing.

  Lord Melbourne took a purse from a desk drawer and pushed it toward Edward. “I want to believe your efforts were honest. I feel that, in the main, you have behaved honorably. This purse should cover your expenses here in town and pay your way back to Canada.”

  “I have made promises to this lady,” Edward said.

  Charlotte stiffened, not sure what he was going to say.

  Lord Melbourne pressed his hands to the desk. “I want to believe you have behaved honorably, Colonel. I suggest you escort Princess Charlotte to the palace with all due haste and leave her alone in the future.”

  “Indeed,” Edward said. “How could I possibly have promised anything more than a return ride to the palace? But mark my words, my lord. I am still Prince Edward’s son, and the Duke of Linsee’s grandson. I will have satisfaction, some stake in life for me and my brothers. This, what, fifty pounds, is all well and fine, but it is poor payment for my blood.”

  “It is one hundred pounds.”

  “A good bribe, sir, but I want enough to take a wife.”

  Charlotte’s eyes widened. She hadn’t realized Edward had a second game to play.

  “King William may have granted you something, but Queen Victoria never will. The days of bastards in ascendance are over, and there is nothing you or I can do about it, Colonel. I am sorry.”

  “You own her at this moment,” Edward said, stepping toward the desk. “I know it very well. She will give me what I want, like she is dealing with Sir John. Just say the word.”

  Lord Melbourne lost his kindly expression. “It is time for you to leave, Colonel. If you do not, I will be forced to write a letter to your superior officer.”

  “This isn’t over,” said Edward. “Come, princess. I must escort you to the palace.”

  He gripped her arm tightly as soon as she rose. Lord Melbourne hastily stood as Edward hauled her out of the room, his expression set in lines that made the planes of his face show in high relief.

  The butler still hovered outside the door. “This way, sir. The carriage is waiting to take you to the palace.”

  “Thank you,” Edward said, his grip still painful on her arm.

  He didn’t speak again until they were inside the carriage.

  “What are you going to do now?” she asked.

  He shook his head slowly. “The College of Arms is the final authority.” He lifted his hat and pushed his hands through his hair. “Even if they are lying, I have no recourse unless I took my story public, and I would never do that. It is, after all, likely to be untrue, and I do wonder who made that forgery.”

  “Do you think some
enemy of the queen set up this situation?”

  “The papers I had must have been in my mother’s possessions until her death. My aunt would not have been a party to sending them to me. Obviously, her father, Linsee, never thought I had a legitimate claim.”

  “You had to learn the truth,” she said.

  “You must feel like I have betrayed your faith in me,” he said, his gaze capturing hers in the dim light. “We should not have done what we did last night.”

  “It was time,” she said simply. “I could not take the wanting any longer. I am twenty-five, long since past the point I should have been married and bedded. And with no hopes to look forward to. Who would take me, a penniless princess?”

  His cheek twitched. “Just a bastard prince, I suppose.”

  She thought about touching him, but decided against it. “I do not know if we can trust Lord Melbourne with our secret. I am going to confess to the queen.”

  “Why not wait it out?”

  “You might be on a ship back to Canada before I even know if I am expecting,” she said. “I won’t take that risk. Victoria loves me. Something good must come from that love.”

  “Is she a romantic girl?”

  “The same as any, but she has so little experience with men. No more than me, I suppose. I was given free rein one summer and look what happened.”

  He nodded. “Do what you must. I won’t find a ship yet. If I don’t hear from you soon, I’ll come looking for you.”

  “I know you will.” She stared at him, drinking in the sight of his beautiful eyes, remembering how it felt to be his lover, his wife. Would she ever be so close to him again? She had to hope.

  If only the game hadn’t changed so catastrophically, for both of them.

  ~

  “Lord M informed us that he saw you this morning in the company of the colonel,” Queen Victoria said that afternoon as they sat in two armchairs in her sitting room, embroidery in their laps.

  With a sinking feeling, Charlotte realized all of the other ladies were out of earshot. The queen had engineered this, sending her women to do this errand or that. The duchess was not present. Why had she not realized that the prime minister would report on her?