The Queen's Husband

by Виктория Холт

  ‘Why, it sounds like treachery towards Victoria.’

  ‘My dear Albert, you and I have no thought in our heads but to serve the Queen. This is the very best we can do for her. She will have to accept Sir Robert in due course; and she will do so because you will have taught her her duty towards her government and her country. You will even – in due course – help her to overcome this ridiculous – and between ourselves childish – dislike of one of the greatest statesmen of all time.’

  ‘Baron, I begin to see that there is hope for me.’

  ‘No one’s future was ever more bright or hopeful,’ said the Baron.

  * * *

  Albert did not find it difficult to strike up a friendship with Sir Robert Peel and to his great pleasure he discovered that the Leader of the Opposition was a man whom he could understand. There was a similarity in their characters. Peel was quite unlike Lord Melbourne, the handsome social success, being scarcely handsome and without social grace. His speech was direct and to the point; he was an idealist, the last description which could be applied to Lord Melbourne.

  Albert’s study of politics had taught him that Peel was a reformer. He had brought in the Bill for Catholic Emancipation and revised the Laws of Offences against Persons; also the forgery laws. He had created the Metropolitan Police Force. Clearly a man of ideas and courage, Sir Robert Peel was incorruptible; his sense of duty came before personal glory; he was a man whom Albert could not only understand but admire. Moreover, and this was a factor which had begun to have considerable weight with Albert, his private life was exemplary. Lord Melbourne’s had been far from that. Although everyone seemed to have forgotten it, Melbourne’s married life with Lady Caroline Lamb had been most unsavoury (although it was long since over, for she had died some years ago) and he had later been involved in two divorce cases. To have been concerned in one would have been quite shocking in Albert’s eyes, but two! It seemed hardly possible that Lord Melbourne could be guiltless. Albert did not believe that people became concerned in such affairs by chance. And this was the man whom Victoria trusted as she trusted no other.

  Now Sir Robert Peel was devoted to his wife, who shared his secrets and ambitions as all wives and husbands should; they had five sons and two daughters – a pleasant family.

  Moreover, Sir Robert was pleased to talk to the Prince. There was none of that slightly patronising manner which he fancied he had detected with Lord Melbourne. Stockmar’s advice was good. Politics were interesting; moreover they gave him something to do.

  He could never mention Sir Robert to the Queen, though she was constantly talking of Lord Melbourne to him, holding him up as a sort of oracle.

  Albert thought a great deal about the political situation. Peel had told him that an election would be inevitable very soon. The Whigs were holding on by the skin of their teeth and in fact it was only the Queen’s favour which kept them in. Peel was, Albert realised in the light of his newly acquired knowledge, referring to the Bedchamber Affair, but the Leader of the Opposition could not talk of this in detail to the Prince because it put the Queen in such a bad light.

  An election before long and Peel the new Prime Minister seemed an excellent prospect to the Prince. It saddened him, though, to realise that what seemed so desirable to him was the last thing the Queen wanted.

  He believed that he should try to influence her a little, subtly attempt to make her realise that her dislike of Peel was unworthy of her; and he decided to make the attempt as they sat at tea together. Victoria enjoyed presiding over the tea pot ‘like an ordinary housewife’, she said. She liked to pour out the tea ‘just as you like it, dearest Albert’. It was wonderful, she told him, how he had taken to the English tea-drinking custom. It was so civilised.

  He smiled at her from across the table and said to her: ‘You look tired, my dearest. You must not have so many late nights.’

  She was pleased by his concern but hated to hear that she looked tired, which reminded her of that other affair: ‘Was she or was she not pregnant?’ She was not entirely sure yet but she rather believed she was. But she did not wish to be reminded; moreover he was referring obliquely to her love of dancing which she insisted should take place whenever possible and she had danced until two that morning. Albert always fidgeted and looked as though he would fall asleep at any moment. She did wish he did not feel so sleepy in the evenings. He really danced very well but she felt he did so reluctantly, which spoilt her pleasure.

  So she felt a little irritated on the whole.

  She said that she thought that Lord Melbourne was a little worried. That dreadful Peel man was a great thorn in his flesh.

  ‘Well, my dearest, he is the Leader of the Opposition. One would expect them to have a few differences of opinion.’

  ‘The Leader of the Opposition indeed, and that’s where I hope he’ll remain, although he would dearly love to be Prime Minister. He almost thought he was once but I put a stop to that. My government resigned because Lord Melbourne said he was powerless to pass laws with such a small majority and that dreadful Peel man thought he could take over. He came to see me. He is most unattractive and he prances about when he speaks like a dancing master.’

  ‘He has a wonderful record.’

  ‘Record! What do you mean, Albert, a wonderful record!’

  ‘He has done so much good for the country.’

  ‘Who has been telling you this nonsense, Albert?’

  ‘Nonsense, my dear love? Can you seriously think that? What of the Police Force, which is the envy of the world. Whose idea was it? And who formed it?’

  ‘Oh, that.’

  ‘Come my love, be fair. Answer me.’

  ‘It was just a law that was brought in.’

  ‘And a good one, eh?’

  ‘The Police Force has been greatly improved since it was formed.’

  ‘Should you not give credit where credit is due?’

  ‘Of course I would always give credit when it is deserved.’

  ‘Well then …’

  ‘But nothing is going to make me like your precious dancing master.’

  These were the danger signals but Albert ignored them. She was a little frightened of the future. She hated this talk of politics. She wanted to laugh and talk of light matters and love with Albert.

  ‘And now, dear Albert,’ she went on, ‘I am going to ask you to help me choose the material for a new gown.’

  ‘Which I shall do with pleasure,’ said Albert, ‘but I do want you to look clearly at what is happening.’

  ‘Look clearly at what is happening? What do you mean? ‘I know what’s happening in this country, Albert, far more than you do. You forget my Prime Minister visits me every day. I have conferences with him. I happen to be the Queen of this country.’

  ‘As a statesman Lord Melbourne does not match up to Sir Robert Peel.’

  She stared at him. She could not believe she had heard correctly. He had deliberately defied her. He had talked of politics when she did not wish to; he had decried her beloved Lord Melbourne; and he had applauded the man she hated as much as she had ever hated anyone.

  She was trembling with rage. Her fingers closed about the handle of the full cup of tea before her which she had been about to drink when he had begun this distressing conversation.

  She picked it up and threw it into his face.

  Albert’s reaction was astonishing.

  He rose from the table and said to the astonished servant who had come forward, ‘What do you think of that?’ He bowed to his wife. ‘I shall now go to change my clothes.’

  He left her furious but wretched at the table.

  * * *

  Oh, dear, what had she done! It was that violent temper of hers. But really Albert should not have goaded her by praising that dreadful man. How could he admire Sir Robert Peel when she disliked him so? But to throw a cup of tea into her beloved Albert’s face! The thought of him sitting there so beautiful with the tea on his face and trickling down his coat
was terrible. And he had been so wonderfully calm. He had had every right to be angry; but all he had done was go to change his coat.

  She could not be happy until Albert and she were friendly again.

  She ran up to his room. The door was shut.

  ‘Albert,’ she cried, rapping on it.

  ‘Is that you, Victoria?’ His voice sounded just the same, so beautifully calm, just as though nothing had happened.

  ‘Albert, I want to talk to you. May I come in?’ Her voice was humble. She felt humble. She was so ashamed of her outburst. Even Lehzen and Lord Melbourne said she had a quick temper. Lord Melbourne called it ‘choleric’.

  Albert had changed his coat; he was standing at the window looking out.

  ‘Albert.’ She ran to him and threw herself into his arms.

  He smiled tenderly. ‘There now, it is over,’ he said calmly.

  ‘But it is not over. I did that to you.’

  ‘The tea was tepid,’ said Albert with a smile, ‘and it was a very small cup.’

  ‘Oh, my precious angel! How kind, how forgiving you are!’

  ‘Shall we forget it?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Albert. But I fear I never shall. It was unforgivable of me. It was so ill-bred.’

  ‘Well, my dear, you would never listen to your mother and you only had your governess to tell you how to behave and I fear she flattered you because she was so eager to keep in your good graces.’

  He held his breath. How would she take direct criticism of her idol?

  She hesitated, about to defend her beloved Baroness, but so overcome with remorse was she that she let it pass.

  ‘I should not have lost my temper, Albert.’

  ‘No, my love, it is always a mistake to lose one’s temper.’

  ‘But you were very provoking.’

  ‘Should one be provoked simply because an opinion adverse to one’s own is expressed? However much one disagrees one should not, for instance … throw a cup of tea.’

  She laughed. ‘Albert, I shall not throw another cup of tea at you.’

  ‘Do so if you wish – providing of course it is not too hot and too large.’

  She laughed; and he laughed with her. She clung to him, kissing him fervently. ‘Oh my beloved angel, you are far too good for me,’ she cried.

  Albert’s smile as he laid his face against her hair was a little complacent. This was progress, he felt.

  Chapter VII

  SHOTS ON CONSTITUTION HILL

  The air was full of rumours. Almost every day there were cartoons in which the central figures were Victoria and Albert. Stories of their differences seeped out of the Palace. ‘Victoria wears the breeches,’ said the people gleefully. A certain amount of pleasure was expressed at this state of affairs. After all, was the comment, who was this Coburg Prince? More or less a pauper as Royalty went. Some might call him handsome – so he was in a pretty sort of way. But the ideal Englishman did not look like Albert, who was more like a pretty girl dressed up as a man. The way he sat his horse was foreign. And what of his brother? Ernest lingered on at the Court, didn’t he? Was he hoping that some of the spoils would come his way? Ernest began to figure in cartoons holding out his hand, feeling in Albert’s pocket. ‘Don’t forget me, brother,’ was the caption. ‘Spare a little for me.’

  It was very unpleasant.

  Worse still, news leaked out about the nature of Ernest’s indisposition. There were shocked chortles. These Coburgs! They liked a good time … at other people’s expense if possible. That in itself was bad enough, but some people remembered that Albert’s mother had been divorced, and the old scandal was revived. She had had a Jewish lover. Was it before Albert was born? People were sure it must have been. In which case their Coburg Prince was scarcely a prince at all, being a bastard.

  This last rumour did not appear in print. That would have been too dangerous. But it did exist. Lord Melbourne did everything in his power to see that it did not reach the ears of the Queen.

  Meanwhile Albert, remembering the success of the cup of tea incident, was eager to consolidate his new position and follow it up with a fresh advance. He was certain that the main reason why the Queen would not take him into her confidence as far as state matters were concerned was due to the influence of Lehzen; and his great desire was to discredit the woman in his wife’s eyes.

  The press liked the Baroness no better than it did the Prince. Her name constantly appeared and she was often invested with an almost sinister power. Albert, who was now reading the newspapers avidly, was continually discovering items of news about her. He read in the papers that no appointments were made without her consent; and this did not apply only to the domestic side of the Queen’s life. He could not believe this to be true, but, since the Queen did not confide in him, how could he be sure?

  Of one thing he was certain. The domestic side of the household was mismanaged. With a true Teutonic talent for organization this had quickly become clear to him. He would have liked to make a clean sweep of many anomalies and he was determined to do so.

  Often he was on the point of discussing the matter with the Queen, but, although he had come out victorious from the tea-cup upset, he was a little afraid of Victoria. There was great strength beneath her fluttering femininity and he had learned how stubborn she could be. At the moment when she had actually thrown the tea-cup there had been no love for him in those blazing blue eyes. What if she became so incensed with what she might call his interference that she ceased to love him? Stockmar had hinted that his trump card was her affection for him and that affection must not weaken. In fact it had to grow so strong that eventually she would give way to his wishes. That that could come about, he was certain; at the same time he knew that it could go the other way.

  Perhaps the best way was to do it through his secretary, George Anson, who could impart his desire to Lord Melbourne and so it would reach the Queen. What a roundabout way for a man to ask a favour – no, his rights – from his wife! But of course she was no ordinary wife.

  He was discovering George Anson to be a very capable young man. He had fought against having him in the first instance, but now he was realising that it was not such a bad bargain after all. Mr Anson was sympathetic and completely loyal and the fact that he was also secretary to the Prime Minister was not a drawback as he had feared. In fact he believed Mr Anson had represented him very sympathetically to Lord Melbourne, for that gentleman’s attitude towards him had changed in the last weeks. He fancied that a little more respect was paid to him.

  He told George Anson of his feelings and that he wished him to put the matter to Lord Melbourne not too forcefully – casually rather – as a suggestion rather than as a request.

  Mr Anson understood perfectly; and so did Lord Melbourne, who told the Queen in that light and easy manner of which he was a master that perhaps the Prince might like to have – figuratively speaking – the keys of the household.

  ‘But that the Baroness Lehzen always has had,’ said the Queen.

  Lord Melbourne smiled his quizzical smile which the Queen had always so admired. ‘That was in the past. On the tenth of February a somewhat important change took place in Your Majesty’s household.’

  Victoria giggled – as she often did when alone with her dear Lord M. No one else made her laugh in quite the same way – not even Albert.

  ‘Why don’t you think about it?’ suggested Lord Melbourne.

  ‘I don’t much care for that sort of change.’

  ‘Not like that other of course,’ said the incorrigible Lord M. ‘I believe you cared for that one very much indeed.’

  ‘Albert is an angel,’ said Victoria.

  ‘Even angels seek some occupation. That is why they are always depicted playing harps.’

  She laughed aloud. ‘Really you are most irreverent, Lord M.’

  ‘I fear so,’ he agreed. ‘And I fear also that you may put this matter from your mind – but do consider it.’

  Considering things usually m
eant discussing them with the Baroness.

  ‘Daisy dear,’ said Victoria, when they were alone, ‘I’m afraid my dearest Albert is getting a little restive.’

  The Baroness’s eyes had hardened a little. ‘Surely not. He must be a very happy man.’

  ‘Oh, he is happy in his marriage, Daisy, but he feels he doesn’t make use of his talents.’

  ‘He will want to use his talents to make himself a good husband to the best wife in the world.’

  ‘Oh, darling Daisy, I am sure he feels that. But he wants to do something.’

  ‘I doubt whether Lord Melbourne will want him interfering in politics.’

  ‘I didn’t mean politics. But I think he would like the keys of the household for instance.’

  ‘The keys of the household?’ This was her province. Once the Prince got his foot in he would attempt to oust her altogether; she had sensed the antagonism he felt for her. She had run the household ever since the Queen’s accession. She was easy-going and the servants, who liked her for it, would want no change. Besides, it gave her power over appointments and that was a very pleasant thing to have. So she was seriously alarmed when the keys of the household were mentioned.

  ‘It might take a burden off your shoulders, Daisy.’

  ‘Burden. It is not a burden. Nothing I could do for my precious child could be a burden. And what would be said if the Prince concerned himself with the household? It is a woman’s job. Imagine how the press would deal with that. There would be pictures of him in skirts.’