Victoria in the Wings: (Georgian Series) (36 page)

‘And perhaps now you are a little tired?’

‘No, Sir, if it is Your Majesty’s wish that I continue.’

‘I must not be selfish.’

She thought how charming he was – even lying there in his bed, without an elegant neckcloth to hide his swollen neck, a mountain of flesh under the silk coverlet; his voice was musical still and he had the power to make any woman feel she was important to him.

‘Have I Your Majesty’s leave to retire?’

‘Please do, and come again tomorrow.’

When she had gone he dozed a little and was startled to be awakened by a servant at his bedside.

‘Sir, the Duke of Cumberland is here.’

‘Cumberland! From Germany? Where is he?’

‘He is in the drawing-room, Sir. I have told him that I will acquaint Your Majesty of his arrival.’

‘Bring him in. No, wait.’ His fingers touched the silk coat he was wearing. Cumberland must not see him like this for the first time after so long. ‘Bring me my robe. And my wig. The nut-brown one.’

He was helped out of bed; he looked different and felt different in wig and robe. He only needed the clothes and he was every inch of him a king. He peered at himself in the looking-glass. He looked pale and it had never suited him to be pale.

‘A touch of colour in the cheeks,’ he said.

‘Yes, Sir.’

There, that was better.

‘I will go into my dressing-room,’ he said. ‘Bring the Duke of Cumberland to me there.’

They faced each other. He did not wish Ernest to know how bad his eyesight had become and that his brother was a blurred figure to him. Ernest looked astonishingly sinister, but he always had; it was due to having lost an eye.

‘Ernest, my dear fellow.’ He held out his arms and they embraced.

‘George! You’re looking better than I was led to believe.’

‘Oh, these rumours. It is good to see you. I did not know you were in England. Tell me, how is Frederica? How is my young namesake, eh?’

‘Well, and they send their respects and affection to Your Majesty. They have made me swear that I shall ask you to receive them … soon.’

‘They are here?’

‘Not yet. I came on in advance. I had heard such tales of your illness. It seems so long since we had been in each other’s company. I thought that now that Frederick had gone … you might have been feeling the need of a little brotherly companionship.’

‘I miss him sorely. We were devoted as you know.’

‘Ah, it was always you two. I’ll confess now, George, I was always a little jealous.’

‘Not you, Ernest!’

‘Oh, I know I didn’t show it. I was proud. I was arrogant. But I had such a high opinion of myself that I couldn’t understand why you had selected Fred as your favourite brother.’

The King laughed. He was feeling better. Family friendships were good. He had always wanted to be on the best of terms with his brothers. He had never had much to do with Ernest, but that was doubtless because Ernest had not been much at home. After that disastrous affair in his apartments when the valet had committed suicide – for that was what had happened in spite of attempts by the press and Ernest’s enemies to blacken his character and make him out a murderer – it was to Brighton he had come to recuperate, at his brother George’s request. The only brother the King had not liked was the Duke of Kent; and that was largely due to the fact that he believed he had been instrumental in exposing the scandal about Frederick and his mistress Mary Anne Clarke which had upset Fred so much and resulted in his losing command of the Army.

‘Well,’ said the King, ‘Fred and I were of an age. Only a year between us. We were in the nursery together. You’re a little younger.’

‘Six years.’

‘So I was quite a big fellow when you came along.’

‘Indeed you were. I remember first being aware of you. I thought you were the most important person in the world.’

‘I am sure I would have agreed with you,’ said the King with a laugh.

It was easy, thought Ernest; there was no resistance to friendship. George had become rather pathetic. He was still George, of course, larger than life – in more senses than one – but what was he doing here in the Cottage … living a life of seclusion? It was not like George to hide himself from the world of fashion. But he could no longer compete with the dandies, and he kept away from the wits and the adventurers because he was old and tired and constantly ill.

Poor old George, thought Ernest. I’d only give him a year or so at the most.

‘Do you propose to stay in England?’ asked the King.

‘It depends on your wishes.’

‘Mine?’

‘I’ve been thinking. We’re a family. Fred has gone, we’re all getting older. It seems a pity we were not more together. I shall delay my decision to return until you have had a chance to see a little of me. If you find me a bore and a nuisance, you only have to say so.’

‘My dear Ernest, as if I ever should! It would be pleasant if you stayed here.’

‘It was what I was hoping you’d say. I have not allowed myself to remain ignorant of what has been happening while I have been out of the country. I shall be able to discuss affairs with you if you wish me to … oh, only as a figure in the background.’

‘It would be a comfort. It’s always advisable to discuss matters with friends outside the government.’

Ernest nodded. He was longing to take part in affairs, to offer advice to the King, to guide him, to lead him; to be the King in the background until he could step forward and wear the crown openly.

‘I have been thinking of William,’ went on Ernest, ‘and wondering how he is. I have heard some rather disturbing reports.’

‘About William?’

‘You know what rumours are. I heard he had been acting in a
strange manner – showing unbecoming hilarity, even at Frederick’s funeral. I don’t believe it, of course. But I’ve heard it said that Frederick’s death has gone to William’s head. He’s almost calling himself King William.’

‘It’s nonsense. William is too fond of me, I’m sure. I flatter myself I mean more to him than a crown, and by God, Ernest, I can assure you of this: Shakespeare was not far wrong. Uneasy does lie the head that wears a crown. If I thought there was anything in these rumours about William I’d let him know that … quickly.’

‘Poor William, he was always a bit of a buffoon.’

Ernest was watching the King closely. How fond was he of William? How far could he go in his criticism?

The King was smiling affectionately. ‘William ought to have some recognition of his position certainly,’ he said. ‘I have been discussing with Canning the possibility of reviving the title of Lord High Admiral. Why not? It would suit William. He always fancied himself a sailor.’

Lord High Admiral? thought Ernest. That was a good idea. It would keep William occupied in a sphere that interested him; and no doubt give him plenty of opportunities to make a fool of himself. That was what he wanted William to do – make a fool of himself again and again and again. And then in due course he could be shown to be suffering from his father’s malady. They had taken King George Ill’s throne from him, so why not William IV’s – if he were to get it?

And then … that child Victoria. All his plans were foiled by her.

‘I think that would be a highly suitable post for William.’

The King nodded. ‘I remember how he was whisked away from us all at Kew to join the Navy. He was only thirteen or fourteen. I can see his face now – woebegone and wretched. Poor William!’

‘But he enjoyed life afloat. He likes to think of himself as the Merry Tar.’

‘He’ll enjoy being Lord High Admiral. And he can plague them at the Admiralty.’

That was just what he would do, thought Ernest. And it would not be difficult for William to prove himself a fool.

‘Do you see much of Edward’s wife?’

‘I can’t bear the woman. I never did like the Coburg family. I find Leopold a bore. It surprises me what that actress sees in him. She’s a charming woman, I hear. It’s amusing though to find that Leopold is human after all.’

‘And what of Madam Kent?’

‘I call her the Swiss Governess. She’s an intolerable woman. She guards Victoria like a dragon.’

‘Do you see much of the child?’

‘No, but I should and I shall. I shouldn’t blame her for her mother’s sins.’

‘I hear she enjoys robust health.’

‘I believe so. She’s healthier than Charlotte ever was. My daughter suffered from constant ailments – although people forget it now. From what I hear of our young princess it is quite another matter.’

Ernest forced his lips into a smile.

‘I should like to see the child. I suppose I might pay my respects at Kensington Palace.’

‘Certainly you should. And you remind me of my duty. She is a very important little person and we shouldn’t forget it.’

‘It is indeed good to be home,’ said Ernest smiling malevolently. ‘I feel I am once more in the heart of the family.’

The Duchess of Kent summoned her daughter to her presence, and as soon as Victoria lifted her eyes to her mother’s face, having given her a deep and respectful curtsy, she saw that Mamma was excited.

‘His Majesty, the King, has invited you to call at Windsor Lodge.’

‘Oh, Mamma, so I am to visit Uncle King!’

‘Pray do not use that ridiculous appellation when referring to His Majesty.’

‘No, Mamma.’

‘You must behave perfectly. His Majesty is very particular about good manners. He will be watchful of you, and if you behave badly in the smallest way I have no doubt that he will be contemptuous of you.’

Victoria was apprehensive. She had always found Uncle King – on the few occasions they had met – particularly charming and not in the least prone to find fault. But perhaps she had been younger then and not so much was expected of her.

‘I think,’ went on the Duchess, ‘that this is an occasion to remind you of the importance of your position.’

‘I had not forgotten it, Mamma.’

‘Pray do not interrupt, child. You will see that His Majesty is a very old man and
you
are old enough now to know that if he should die only Uncle William stands between you and the throne. And Uncle William is an old man, too. Keep that in mind.’

Victoria was puzzled. Must she while she was with Uncle King keep remembering that he soon must die? She must be very careful not to mention it, for, as dearest Louisa Lewis at Claremont said, she was like Cousin Charlotte in that her tongue was apt to run away with her.

‘Pray don’t frown,’ said the Duchess. ‘It is most unbecoming and leaves lines. Now go along and they will prepare you. I have given instructions as to your costume.’

When Victoria had gone the Duchess sent for Fräulein Lehzen.

‘This visit to Royal Lodge,’ she said. ‘Of course it is right and proper that she should go, but it is a somewhat unusual household.’

Fräulein Lehzen raised her hands to the ceiling. Like the Duchess she wondered greatly at the manner in which the English conducted their affairs. Sometimes she thought they were completely lacking in discipline. That was why she was most anxious that Victoria should be brought up in the Teutonic manner. The Duchess and Fräulein Lehzen saw eye to eye on most matters; they were two Germans in an alien land.

‘That woman is living at the Lodge, although they say that she would rather not be there.’

‘What is so shocking, Your Highness, is that her family should be there too.’

‘It is disgraceful! Lady Conyngham, her husband and children, all living there under the same roof with the King! I consider it most improper. If he lived openly with her at Court that would be another matter. But he shuts himself away and lives alternately,
they say, between the
squalor
of the Cottage, where he spends most of the time in bed, and the oriental splendour of the Pavilion or Carlton House like some … some Sultan.’

Fräulein Lehzen cast down her eyes. One did not join in criticism of the royal family even when it was by the royal family, unless specially asked to do so.

‘And it is to this … this household … that Victoria is going!’

‘I trust, Your Highness, that Lady Conyngham will be absent.’

‘That would be a great relief.’

‘Do you wish Victoria to be warned?’

‘I have been considering the matter. Perhaps, on second thoughts, it would be wiser to say nothing. I shall do everything in my power to protect her; and for that reason I am arranging for her sister to accompany us.’

‘She will of course grasp the situation,’ began Fräulein Lehzen.

‘Feodore is eighteen; she is worldly enough to be aware of what is going on and she is devoted to Victoria. But I shall be there to keep my eye on the child. Will you send her to me? I wish to see that she is dressed as she should be and to give her some last-minute warnings.’

Victoria enjoyed riding along in the carriage with Mamma and Feodore; she almost forgot in the excitement of looking out of the windows that she was going on a great adventure: to meet Uncle King.

She must remember to call him Your Majesty and Sir, not Uncle King. She must only speak when spoken to; she must be very careful of her curtsy; it must be a very special curtsy and she had practised it until she was weary of curtsying, but Mamma still said it left something to be desired.

A visit to Windsor Lodge! What a prospect! She would sleep in a different room and the dolls would all have to stay at home in Kensington. Poor dolls! Mamma could say it was foolish for one of her age and responsibilities to play with dolls and pretend that they were people, but she didn’t care. She was going to keep on loving her dolls. What defiance! She giggled to herself. Then she remembered that she was on the way to Uncle King and set
her face into a serious mask because Mamma was watching.

Feodore caught her eye and smiled. How pretty Feodore was! She looked rather like one of the dolls. Darling Sissi! She had heard that Sissi might go back to Germany to get married. She hoped not. Wouldn’t it be fun if some handsome prince came and married Feodore, an
English
prince so that she did not have to go away. Perhaps dear Lehzen would make up a story about it and they would make it go on and on together until Feodore and her prince had many adventures and lived happily over after. But of course, Lehzen’s stories – apart from historical ones – did not have happy endings unless the people were
good
. Only virtue was rewarded. There always had to be a moral because they were for improving the mind.