The Captive of Kensington Palace (17 page)

George FitzClarence, William’s eldest son, looked in to join them at luncheon. The King was proud of his handsome firstborn. George was now interesting himself in politics having retired two years ago from the Army as lieutenant-colonel. Adelaide felt rather uneasy. The ‘children’ as she called them had changed since William had become King. In the old days when she had first married they had been as her own children; she had nursed this very George during her honeymoon when he had broken his leg and William had brought him to her. They had been great friends, but now George and his brothers and sisters had become rather sullen, resenting the fact that they were not legitimate. The Duchess of Kent was responsible for a great deal of this. She had given instructions that Victoria was not to come into contact with the FitzClarences. It was all very silly – and worse, it made trouble. Adelaide hated trouble.

It was brewing now, she could see by George’s expression. Oh dear, he was going to upset William, but the King cheerfully eating his two cutlets and disposing of his two glasses of sherry was as yet unaware of it.

Luncheon over, William decided that he would take a walk in the gardens and that George should accompany him. This suited George for it would give him an opportunity of saying what he wanted to.

As soon as they were alone, George said: ‘It’s ridiculous, Father, that you as the King should have an untitled eldest son.’

William sighed. ‘My dear George, I have looked after you children well … as your mother would have wished. You shall have honours, in time. These things have to be arranged.’

‘That’s an old story,’ said George rudely – since William had become King he and his brothers had delighted in being rude to the old man. ‘It’s easy enough if you want to.’

‘I’ve looked after you all. And I shan’t forget you.’

‘I want a title. I should be an Earl. I am the King’s son.’

‘I tell you you’ll have to wait.’

‘I don’t feel inclined to wait. I’ve waited long enough.’

‘By God,’ cried the King. ‘The Crown hasn’t been mine for a year yet.’

‘It doesn’t take a year to recognise your son.’

‘When have I failed to accept you as my son?’

‘As your bastard … perhaps.’

‘My dear George, that’s exactly what you are.’

George strode off in a fury. William looked after him with the tears starting to his eyes.

He could not bear to quarrel with his children. He would have to see what could be done to satisfy George.

‘You must never forget your position,’ said the Duchess of Kent. ‘The King and Queen are apt to act in the homeliest way; and this may have its effect on you. However
they
behave,
you
must always remember who you are.’

‘Yes, Mamma,’ said Victoria.

‘Now this is one of your
first
public appearances. Don’t forget that everyone will be watching you.’

‘Yes, Mamma.’

‘We have to uphold our dignity, you realise that, I hope.’

Victoria did realise this.

‘You will stand on the
left
of the Queen, and you must never forget that you are the heiress to the throne.’

‘I should not be allowed to if I wished it,’ said Victoria with some irony.

Driving to St James’s was pleasant, although the people did not notice her as Mamma wished. She would have liked them to shout: ‘God save the Queen-to-be.’ Mamma seemed to forget that it was possible for Aunt Adelaide to have a child. And if she did? Victoria sometimes thought that it might be rather pleasant to be like the Georges, Cumberland and Cambridge, and not have to be constantly watched and primed.

It was very grand at the Drawing-Room. The King couldn’t look anything else but a weatherbeaten jolly old gentleman and all the silks and satins and jewels couldn’t make Aunt Adelaide into a beautiful Queen; but Victoria standing on the Queen’s left looking very young in her white silk dress with her pearl necklace and the diamond clasp in her hair attracted some attention. There was something so fresh and young about her which was very appealing.

Aunt Adelaide whispered to her that it was a bit of an ordeal but it would soon be over and she was behaving charmingly so that all the people would love her.

Dear Aunt Adelaide, who was also so kind and sympathetic towards the young, and showed no resentment at all because her own little Elizabeth had not lived to stand in the place where Victoria now stood today. Sometimes Victoria even now felt a desire to cling to Aunt Adelaide and talk to her as she could not talk to her own mother – not even to Lehzen. The Duchess was too ambitious; Lehzen just a little stern; as for Uncle Leopold he was too perfect and therefore somewhat remote. But Aunt Adelaide with her plain face and her nose that was a little pink at the tip and the rather spotty complexion seemed to shine with a motherliness which offered infinite comfort – even to a little girl whose mother had been rude to her.

‘You are managing splendidly,’ whispered Aunt Adelaide.

‘Oh,
dear
Aunt Adelaide, I love you so much.’

Aunt Adelaide’s eyes filled with tears; and Mamma was watching. ‘Don’t be too friendly with the King and Queen,’ had been Mamma’s injunctions, ‘otherwise they will try to
impose
. There is no need to feel that you must
placate
them. Nothing can alter the fact that you are the heiress to the throne.’

But she wanted to be friendly with them because they were such friendly people. Oh dear, she wished she did not feel so
uncertain
. Obeying Mamma had become a habit. It was usually easier in the end to do as she wished, rather than make storms.

Mamma was watching her now; she had seen the exchange between her daughter and Aunt Adelaide, and was displeased.

Family quarrels are so tiresome, thought Victoria. And surely the Queen-to-be should be able to decide on whom she will bestow her friendship.

The King was smiling at her, but Mamma was watching and she met his smile stonily. William reddened a little and turned away.

Oh dear, thought Victoria, is the King angry? He is a nice kind old man really and my uncle. Why should I have to be unpleasant to him? I won’t do it. I’ll smile at him next time.

But the King did not look her way again.

When the Drawing-Room was over the royal party remained to talk together, and Victoria found herself sitting between her two cousins George Cumberland and George Cambridge.

They were both eyeing her with approval. She knew she looked quite pretty with her cheeks flushed and her eyes exceptionally blue which they always were when she was excited. The two boys were definitely interested in her and it was pleasant to bask in masculine admiration.

‘I wonder you never come to the Queen’s parties,’ said Cumberland.

‘You miss a great deal of fun,’ added Cambridge.

‘I know,’ sighed Victoria. ‘But my Mamma does not think I should.’

‘Why ever not?’ demanded Cambridge.

‘There is some reason.’

‘There must be a reason,’ put in Cumberland. ‘Nothing happens without reason, does it?’

‘But what can it be?’ asked Cambridge.

‘That is something I should like to know,’ said Victoria.

‘The house is always full of FitzClarence children,’ George Cambridge told her.

He could not take his eyes from Victoria because he had heard the King say to the Queen that he thought it might not be a bad idea to arrange a match between them. Imagine this little girl, his wife. And she would be Queen of England if the King and Queen did not have a child. George Cambridge imagined that would be rather pleasant, because the Queen’s husband would really be the King and living with Uncle William made him feel that life as King could be very enjoyable.

He must not mention this to Victoria now. It was obviously something of which one did not speak, but it was very pleasant to contemplate the prospect.

He wanted to discover more about Victoria; so did George Cumberland. His parents were constantly speaking of her.

‘You must be very lonely at Kensington,’ said Cumberland.

Victoria considered this. ‘Well, they never allow me to be alone. So I suppose I am not lonely.’

‘Do you never meet any young people?’

‘Only Victoire and Jane Conroy.’ Her mouth tightened at the mention of that man’s name.

‘You ought to meet your cousins.’

‘I am meeting them now.’

‘And this cousin is enjoying the encounter very much,’ said Cumberland.

Victoria glowed with pleasure. How exciting was the company of the other sex. Now she considered it she rarely met anyone but women. There were her tutors of course and that man – but she didn’t count those. It would be different now that she was growing up.

‘And so is this one,’ added Cambridge determined to be as gallant as his cousin. ‘But you would have enjoyed Aunt Adelaide’s parties. Aunt Adelaide is a darling.’

Victoria could heartily agree with that.

‘I have lived with her and the King now for a long time, and as I can’t be with my own parents there is no one I would rather be with. She says I am like a son to her.’

‘Oh, you are the favourite,’ said Cumberland.

‘I don’t think Aunt Adelaide has any favourites. She is fond of all the children. Those swarms of grandchildren … the King’s I mean, are always at Bushy or wherever they are. They call her Queeny. Some of the young ones are rather silly.’

‘Do you miss your parents?’ asked Victoria. ‘They are in Hanover, I believe.’

‘Yes. My mother writes to me every day.’

‘She must love you dearly.’

‘She said that a day when she has not written to me is a lost day.’

‘How sad that you must be parted.’

‘I had to come over here to be educated. It was necessary for me to be educated here.’

Victoria wondered why, but Cumberland had been kept out of the conversation too long and he wanted his young cousin’s attention. How truly delightful, she thought, to have them both vying for her notice. This was proving a very happy occasion.

‘Aunt Adelaide’s party last Christmas at the Pavilion was wonderful,’ he told her. ‘She put a great fir tree in the Dragon Room. She says they do it at Christmas time in Germany, and on the tree are hung presents. It’s such fun. Names are on the presents and there is something for everyone. Then we had music and dancing and games. The King played with us. Of course there were too many
little
FitzClarences and Aunt Adelaide always sees that
they
are not left out.’

‘Oh, how I should have
loved
to be there.’

‘I can’t think why you weren’t. All the rest of the family seemed to be – and you are one of the family.’

‘Oh yes,’ said Victoria happily, ‘I am one of the family.’

So they chatted and it was so pleasant that Victoria did not notice how time was passing and she was sad when it was time to go back to Kensington.

Mamma was grim as they drove back.

‘I do not think you behaved with absolute decorum. And what were you whispering about to the Queen? And then laughing and giggling with those two boys. What were they saying? And do they have
hopes
… because if they have they can forget about them … and so can their ambitious parents, because neither of those two boys will have a chance.’

What was Mamma talking about? Victoria, listening to the clop-clop of the horses’ hoofs, was gently rocked by the movement of the carriage. She was thinking of a wonderful party in the Dragon Room at the Pavilion; a green fir tree reaching almost to the ceiling – loaded with presents.

And I was not there, she thought.

She pictured herself seated there, with a George on either side, admiring, attentive. And why was she not there? It was very odd that she should not be. Why should she be shut away in Kensington Palace with only the daughters of That Man as companions, when she could enjoy the admiring society of boy cousins like the two Georges?

The reason she decided was Mamma. Mamma was ruling her life and shutting her off from such pleasures.

She was beginning to feel very resentful towards Mamma.

The Duchess of Cumberland wanted to hear what her son had thought of Victoria.