Виктория Холт - The Captive of Kensington Palace

‘I can give no promises,’ said Victoria.

‘My dearest Princess, you are very weak at the moment …’

‘And in no condition to be approached about such matters.’

‘There is a certain urgency.’

‘I see no urgency.’

‘You have to prepare yourself for something which could happen at any moment.’

‘I shall be prepared.’

‘You do not understand these things. You are a young and charming girl whose thoughts are taken up with pretty clothes from Paris.’

‘I can give my attention to other matters when it is necessary.’

‘It is necessary now. Just say the word. That is all I ask. Your solemn promise. And I will draw up a paper to which you can put your signature … It will all be so easy.’

‘No,’ she said firmly. And then: ‘Lehzen. Wake up, Lehzen.’

Lehzen opened her eyes and stared at Sir John who continued to perch jauntily on the Princess’s bed.

‘What are you doing here?’ demanded Lehzen.

‘Madam?’ replied Sir John with the utmost haughtiness as though to ask how a mere governess could dare to speak to him – the Duchess’s adviser and friend – in such a manner.

‘I feel so tired,’ said Victoria.

‘The Princess is not well enough to receive visitors,’ declared Lehzen, getting up and dropping her sewing on to the floor.

‘Except members of the household, of course,’ said Sir John, ‘and I am in that category.’

‘I think you should leave now.’

‘I intend to have a word or two with the Princess first.’

‘The Princess will see you when she is well.’

‘This is important business, Madam. The Duchess and I have decided it cannot wait.’

‘I cannot have the Princess disturbed.’

‘The Duchess’s orders are that she is to receive me.’

Victoria sat forward; her head was swimming but her eyes were brilliant with defiance. ‘I shall myself decide,’ she said, ‘whether or not I shall receive visitors. The Baroness has asked you to leave.’

‘Oh come,’ said Sir John, ‘all this excitement about such a little matter. We don’t want a storm over a friendly visit.’

‘I have told you that I do not wish to receive,’ said Victoria. ‘And no matter how much you talk I shall not appoint you as my private secretary.’

‘So that is what it means,’ said Lehzen.

‘Yes, Lehzen,’ replied Victoria, ‘and I wish to rest. Goodbye, Sir John.’

Sir John’s eyes were angry, his mouth tight. He looked as though he would like to murder Lehzen; but she stood still glaring at him while Victoria pretended to shut her eyes but they were only half closed; she wanted to see Sir John go.

He saw that there was nothing more that he could do then, so he bowed abruptly and went out.

When he had gone Victoria cried: ‘Oh, Lehzen, I hate that man.’

‘The craftiness!’ said Lehzen. ‘And I was asleep.’

‘You are worn out with nursing me, dear Lehzen. And I only had to call you. I am so glad I was strong. At one moment I felt I would say anything to get rid of him.’

‘So he was trying to make you promise to have him beside you when you are Queen?’

‘That was it, Lehzen. I never would. Once I am able to make my decisions my first will be to get rid of that man. Sit down, Lehzen. Take up your sewing. He has gone now. Let us be cosy again. But the thought of him lingers, doesn’t it?’

She put out a hand and Lehzen took it.

‘Dear, dear Lehzen, who takes such good care of me. Oh, how I hate him! There is something evil about him.’

She could not forget him; she would wake in the night because she had dreamed that he had come into the room.

As she grew stronger the dreams were less frequent. Lehzen said that if she took the nourishing food she prepared and rested and allowed Lehzen to take very good care of her she would soon be well.

* * *

It was not until January that they returned to Kensington Palace. It had been a bitterly cold journey, and after spending a night at Sittingbourne they arrived at Kensington in the early afternoon.

The Duchess took Victoria’s hand and with Lehzen hovering showed her the new apartments which would now be hers.

‘The others,’ said the Duchess, ‘were far too small. Most unbecoming. Now that you are convalescent you need more airy rooms.’

‘But it is quite magnificent, Mamma.’

The Duchess snorted. ‘I think sometimes that old buffoon at the Brunswick Hotel forgets that you are a Queen.’

‘But I am not, and if I were it would mean that he were dead. Poor Uncle William. I hope he will live for many years.’

The Duchess grunted. She was a little unsure of her daughter since Sir John had reported on that rather alarming scene in the bedroom. They had to remember that she was growing up. She would be seventeen this year and she was well aware of her importance. It would not be possible to command her now – only to arouse her sense of loyalty and persuade her what she must do out of gratitude in the future for those who in the past had done so much for her.

‘It is very kind of His Majesty to give us these lovely rooms,’ went on Victoria, at which the Duchess laughed.

Victoria went into the bedroom (which she was to share with the Duchess) and admired its lofty ceiling, its spaciousness and the pleasant furniture. It was a great improvement on the old room.

‘Seventeen rooms!’ she cried. ‘Why, Mamma, what a lot of space we shall have.’

‘There is a sitting-room for you and a study. Lehzen can have our old bedroom.’

‘She will like that,’ said Victoria, flushing with pleasure in anticipation of Lehzen’s.

‘I venture to think,’ said the Duchess, ‘that these apartments are a little more worthy of the future Queen.’

Victoria could not wait to hear what Lehzen thought of the changes; but Lehzen was clearly more interested in getting Victoria strong.

‘You’ll have to get back your appetite. Dr Clark said you must eat more bread and butter and I shall myself cook you some nice boiled mutton and make some orange jelly.’

‘Oh, Lehzen, you have this pleasant bedroom and you talk of boiled mutton and orange jelly.’

‘You’re a little wraith and nothing more,’ scolded Lehzen.

‘I used to be rather plump, didn’t I? And look at my hair. There’s scarcely any of it. You remember how thick it used to be.’

‘It’ll be thick again and you’ll soon be plump. You just trust Lehzen.’

And Victoria threw herself into Lehzen’s arms. ‘I do,’ she said. ‘I do trust you … more than anyone in this Palace I trust you.’

Then she felt guilty of disloyalty to the Duchess and so did Lehzen for listening. But they hugged each other and understood; for it was true.

The Duchess of Cumberland, considerably softened since the blindness of her son, was worried. She knew what was going on in her husband’s restless mind. He was not the man to see his plans frustrated and meekly accept that; and she knew that until Victoria was firmly on the throne he would be considering means of preventing her reaching it.

He still confided in her although he was fully aware of her resignation. She had said that if only George’s sight could be restored to him she would ask nothing else of life. Her mother-love had subdued her ambition and he was not sure whether or not he admired her for this. He missed the scheming woman he had married; but he was glad to find the devoted mother. He too cared only for the two of them – wild Frederica whose past had been as devious as his own, and young George whom blindness seemed to be turning into a saint.

But he was not going to give up his ambitions.

‘Ernest,’ said the Duchess to him one January morning when Victoria was still by the sea recovering from her attack of typhoid fever, ‘why don’t you accept what life has given you? You will find the kingdom of Hanover very much to your taste.’

‘My taste is for a larger kingdom.’

‘I know, but a small one is better than none.’

‘Do you think I should stand aside and let that woman govern England, for that is what she will do if Victoria is Queen.’

‘How can you do anything else but stand aside?’

‘I am not without influence.’

‘Are you thinking of the Orange Lodges?’

‘Of course I am thinking of the Orange Lodges. My hopes lie with them. There are 145,000 men in England who would be ready to spring to arms to defend the Protestant cause.’

‘But the King is not a Catholic.’

‘He is very friendly with Mrs Fitzherbert.’

The Duchess laughed. ‘Oh come, Ernest, you can scarcely expect me to be taken in by such talk. You know there is no danger of England’s becoming Catholic and your Orangemen need not leap to her defence. Why not admit the truth … that you are ready to fight to wrest the throne from William … or at least to take over on his death?’

‘You know what this means. Victoria is too young to rule; that mother of hers – that nuisance of a Duchess – would be virtually ruler of England. The country would rise up and call blessed one who averts such a calamity. Victoria … a minor. That woman Regent.’

‘William is not dead yet.’

‘No, but he’s half way to madness they say. He’ll have to be put away sooner or later like his father.’

‘Ernest, you must be careful. You have suffered a certain amount of notoriety. The country would not welcome civil war.’

‘When the people saw that it put a real King on the throne they would think it worth while.’

‘How much better if William appointed you his heir.’