Disclaimer: I do not own any of the historical characters in Victoria nor do I own the TV series which was written by Daisy Goodwin. Any lines from the show are also not mine and are just borrowed from Daisy Goodwin and ITV Victoria.
Important Information: For information, Victoria is granted her father's title and will be Duchess of Kent for the period of time while she is not Queen, while her mother will be the Dowager Duchess. This title has been granted to Victoria in her own right to be passed on to her children but Lord M will only remain as Viscount Melbourne and not Duke of Kent. Victoria also has the title of Princess.
There is a wedding in chapter two of this story and a wedding night too but I fade to black for that part (I'm a bit useless at sex scenes).
Part I - Proposal
"I believe when you give your heart it will be without hesitation. But you cannot give it to me."
"I think you have it already."
"No, you must keep it intact for someone else."
Her eyes narrow at his words. Lord M always tells her the truth but in these words, this sweet and gentle rejection, there is something not totally honest.
She decides to push further.
"Just answer me this, Lord M, do you love me?"
It is a direct question, asked far more bluntly than all the different ways she has thought about using to discover his feelings. But she senses in this case that directness is needed.
And he knows it too. He can talk around her desire for him to be her companion in life, can say she should not give her heart to him, can imply that he still loves his wife. But with this question he must give an unambiguous answer and he knows instinctively that he will not lie in his answer.
"Lord M," she repeats, with only the slightest stutter, "do you love me?"
He looks at her, his gaze seeming to stare deep into her soul with more emotion than she has ever seen. She knows what his answer will be before he speaks it.
"Of course I do, Ma'am, how could I not?"
He still has her hands wrapped in his own but she separates them so she can reach up to cup his face, to look at the man she so adores, the man who loves her in return.
There is a moment of quiet, of absolute stillness, and then she kisses him.
He is clearly startled by her initiation of an intimacy between them that will cause extensive scandal if it is witnessed by anyone other than the rooks, but he soon kisses her back with an enthusiasm that brings her joy and stokes a fire inside her she never knew existed.
When they break apart she is breathless and flushed with the excitement of her first kiss.
He looks dazed and moved, yet she can see he is also worried and she cannot help but frown at his concerned expression.
"We cannot do this, Ma'am," he says after a moment, "whatever our feelings a marriage between us would never be accepted. The Privy Council would be in uproar."
"I will make them accept it," she insists, all fierceness and determination, "I will not let my heart be a matter of state."
"But your marriage is, Ma'am," he cries out with a mix of frustration and sadness, "and I do not wish you to lose everything over me – you deserve better."
She looks at him, measured and calm despite her bubbling anger as she thinks of how the Privy Council might dismiss her desires as childish folly.
"I can live without a crown," she says, "but I cannot live without love … without you."
And that is the simple truth of the matter.
She pauses for a few seconds, but when she speaks she has never been so certain about anything, "Lord M … William … will you do me the honour … will you marry me?"
His answer is so quiet it is almost lost in the wind.
She hears it though, and her heart rejoices as she gives him her widest, most delighted smile.
"I will."
For a long time she never wanted to be Queen. She remembers when she was young, how she had wished so much for Queen Adelaide to have a child … how despite her mother's constant talk she never quite looked forward to being Queen.
She does not know quite why she was so opposed to the idea. Maybe it was that her observations of her family showed a group of people at war with each other, never happy despite their titles and money and power. Perhaps she was just afraid, unsure that she would be able to do her poor dear papa proud.
Now she knows her duty, but she also knows she cannot do it with a broken heart. Being Queen has given her the freedom she has craved for so long, yet in many ways it has also become a new cage, trapping her in an endless cycle of propriety and tradition and expectations.
She will not be controlled, not even by her country and her government, when it comes to her marriage.
As Queen of England she has so much, far more than most people ever will.
But the role takes and takes from her – she will never lack for money or jewels or property or people willing to bow to her … yet she struggles to find those who are willing to be genuine and real with her, who love the young woman Victoria rather than just the Queen.
For so long it was only Dash and Lehzen. Now she has Lord M, though, who loves and protects and supports her, who makes her smile and laugh and feel like she can bear any burden that the crown might place on her.
What Lord M has given her is worth far more than all the material wealth and power that being Queen has placed at her disposal.
So when Victoria tells Lord M that she can live without a crown she is being quite serious.
It will be an adjustment, she knows, for she has got used to her orders being followed, to the power she wields, to the luxury in which she lives.
Yet what she would possibly have to give up does not at all equal what she will gain with Lord M. True, real love and support and happiness … the sort of thing she has wanted her whole life.
Still, though she might not be too sorry if she has to give up her crown, she will always be grateful for her time wearing it – after all it brought her Lord M.
After a little persuasion (for she would like nothing more than to stay where she is, in Lord M's arms, for hours to come) Victoria agrees to return to Buckingham Palace and prepare for the ball she is holding in honour of her uncle Leopold's visit.
"You will come?" she asks him, eyes wide, for even after all that has happened and been admitted in the past few minutes she still panics that he will continue to try (out of concern for her) to dissuade her from her desire to speak with the Privy Council and make their engagement a formal thing.
It seems, however, that Lord M (William, as he is to her now) has finally let himself be honest. She knows he has not forgotten his concerns, but he does not bring them up now.
"I will be delighted to attend, Ma'am."
She laughs, "but you must call me Victoria now, and I will call you William."
"Well then," he says with a roguish twinkle in his eyes that she loves, "I do hope you will save me a dance … Victoria."
Sadly, they only get once dance together at the ball.
Victoria would have liked to have danced with only him the whole evening, but even in her state of bliss she knows that such a thing would cause far too many problems, especially considering the news she will soon be delivering to her Privy Council.
She tries to persuade William into a second dance, especially when she realises he has chosen his Leicester costume to match her Queen Elizabeth one (and that the preparation that has clearly gone into the outfit means he chose it before she arrived at Brocket Hall to confess her love) but he will not allow it, insisting that they must be discreet until she has spoken to the Privy Council.
Still, she does not remember any ball ever being more delightful.
Even with the presence of her infuriating uncle Leopold, irritating cousin George and menacing uncle Cumberland she remains in a state of euphoria thanks to the memories of her kiss with William, of the engagement she hopes soon to make public and the wedding she is determined to ensure will follow.
Victoria wants to shout her news to the world, to proclaim her happiness to the whole country … no, the whole world.
This is what a contented and requited love feels like and she never wants to lose this feeling.
The Privy Council meeting, three days after the ball, is a bloodbath.
Not literally, of course, though William has no doubt that a number of his colleagues would cheerfully run him through with a sword in payment for the trouble he is causing them.
Victoria storms out in a fury after ten minutes of intense arguing descends into total chaos. William is not far behind her – his presence is inflammatory and not helping in the least, and besides he wants to check on Victoria, who in her anger is liable to do or say something she might come to regret.
"Hateful men," she rants to him as she paces up and down the length of the room he has found her in, "to say you are not suitable to be the husband of a Queen. Who are they to tell me who I can marry?"
He sighs and reaches out to her, clasping her hands in his own in an effort to keep her still and calm, "they have the right of it, darling girl," he tells her, "I am far from the ideal consort for the Queen of England."
"You are the perfect consort for me," she says with such intense sincerity that it nearly brings tears to his eyes.
He sighs, "the Privy Council must approve your marriage," he reminds her, "and I do not believe that they will approve of me."
For a moment he is quiet, and then he speaks again, tentatively, "there is still time to change your mind. If you tell the Privy Council that you will not marry me then I am sure no more will be said about –"
"NO!" she shouts it out loudly enough that he winces at the sound, "I will not let them bully me into giving you up, William. And I will not make us both unhappy because they cannot see how wonderful you are."
"You know you could lose your crown, Victoria," he reminds her, serious and concerned, "I do not ever want you to regret what you might have to give up – if … if you ever grew to resent me for it then I do not think I could bear it."
"None of that matters to me," Victoria insists, "not as long as I have you."
"You must be sure, darling girl. Please, for your sake, be absolutely sure that this is what you want."
It frustrates her that he keeps asking her if she is sure, for she is absolutely sure. But it is one of the reasons she loves him, because he always wants her to be happy and secure with her choices, even if it causes him unhappiness.
She leans up to press her lips against his, thankful that her Privy Council are sure to be too busy arguing over her news to interrupt them.
"I am sure William, believe me I am sure."
"Drina, how can you consider something so foolish?"
"Victoria, you should listen to wiser heads."
"Majesty … surely you are not going to marry a man of such a reputation?"
So many voices jumble in her head, a mix of well-meaning and condescending and self-interested parties with only one thing in common.
Their dislike of her choice of husband.
Two days have passed since the Privy Council meeting where Victoria announced her desire to marry her Lord M and his intention to resign as Prime Minister with immediate effect.
They have not been the most pleasant of days.
She has not seen William once. He has been absolutely run ragged by the work involved in sorting out his resignation without letting on to the general populace the reasons behind his retirement from politics. The Privy Council still believe that they can persuade her to change her mind and have insisted the engagement not be made public. Victoria does not see why she must indulge their wish but William, before he departed following the Privy Council meeting, told her it would be wise if they could accommodate her ministers in this even if in nothing else.
Currently she is hiding in one of the little used rooms in the palace, wanting to avoid both lectures from her mama and uncle Leopold, and the scandalised remarks of Lehzen, who does not think William at all an appropriate husband for Victoria.
She will have to show herself eventually, of course, but for the moment she just wants a little bit of peace and quiet.
So she sits with Dash at her feet and a sketchbook in her lap, trying to draw the scene she can see from the window but inevitably ending up with countless little sketches of William instead.
Her mind is full of him and she misses him enough for it to preoccupy her mind, especially as she knows he is almost certainly having an unpleasant time trying to deal with the details of his resignation.
She looks up in surprise when she hears the sound of movement near the door. Thankfully it is only Skerrett, and Victoria knows her dresser will not give her away.
"Apologies, Ma'am," Skerrett says as she curtsies, "I did not realise you were here."
"Quite alright, Skerrett. I was just … enjoying some silence."
"I'll leave you to it then, Ma'am."
"Thank you, Skerrett. And … if you see Lehzen, or anyone else, could you please tell them …"
Skerrett gives her a conspiratorial smile, "I'll try and make sure no one finds you for another hour or two, Ma'am."
Victoria gives the dresser a grateful look as Skerrett leaves the room.
She looks out of the window once more and considers the scene. But when she puts her pencil to paper once more it is the figure of Lord M that emerges on the paper.
King Leopold writes countless letters to his nephews Albert and Ernest.
At first he tells them to delay their arrival because the Queen has a mild case of the flu and does not wish to receive them while she is ill.
A lie of course. Victoria has never sanctioned her cousins' visit and she is perfectly healthy, but Leopold does not want to spook Albert (who is already concerned that he and Victoria will not suit) with the news that the Queen has proposed marriage to her Prime Minister.
Of course Lord Melbourne has now resigned, but he was her Prime Minister when she proposed (and besides all that he is so much older, so much lower in station, stained by scandal) – Leopold cannot believe how foolish his niece is being.
So for a while he stalls his nephews as he and his sister try to talk some sense into Victoria. She is stubborn, though, with an attachment and loyalty to her Lord Melbourne that might be admirable if it were not so wrong and frustrating, if it were not the ruination of nearly two decades of Leopold's planning.
He cannot conceal the truth forever, however, and when he finally admits defeat and sees that Victoria will give up her crown before she gives up Melbourne, Leopold writes to his nephews to tell them that there is no point in continuing towards England - there is nothing here for them anymore.
Ernest is unaffected, apart from his sorrow at the effect of this turn of events on his beloved brother.
Albert … well Albert does not seem to know how to feel.
On one hand he writes that Victoria's actions show they would not have been well matched. But he is also angry, for he has spent nearly his whole life preparing for the role of consort of the most eligible royal woman in the world – he is understandably bitter to learn that his future is no longer a dazzling picture, only murky waters to be waded through carefully in the hope of finding a wife who is even a fraction as splendid a match as the Queen of England would have been.
As soon as parliament and the Privy Council are absolutely decided on their next steps, Leopold leaves England.
He has no desire to watch his niece marry so far beneath her, nor to see the last hope of his plans coming to fruition go up in smoke.
They send delegation after delegation to Victoria in an attempt to change her mind.
Some of the men they send are angry and others serious, a few are sympathetic and many are hostile.
None of them change her mind.
Whether they consider it a virtue or a vice, everyone agrees that their Queen has a stubborn will of iron.
Eventually they give her an ultimatum.
It is one that has been unspoken ever since she announced her intention to marry Lord Melbourne, but now they make it quite clear.
If she persists in her plans to marry her former Prime Minister then she will be forced to abdicate in favour of her uncle Cumberland.
William looks nearly distraught when they discuss the Privy Council's decision, but she rushes to reassure him.
"I have told you, dearest William, that I can live without a crown. In fact, I would give up a thousand crowns if it meant I could have you as my husband."
There are tears in his eyes as he kisses her, a look of love and awe and delight that pleases her greatly.
"I will make you happy, darling Victoria," he vows, "for as long as you will have me."
And she believes him. Because he is William, her Lord M, and he has been her light in the darkness since the moment they first met.
"Skerrett, a moment please," Victoria says as her dressers move towards the door the evening after she receives the Privy Council's decision.
Mrs Jenkins look curious for a few seconds, but drops into a curtsey and exits, leaving Victoria alone with the younger dresser.
"You have probably noticed, Skerrett, that there has been a great deal of … fuss recently."
Skerrett nods. Fuss is putting it lightly – the past week has been full of whispered conversations, long talks between the Queen and Lord Melbourne (who resigned suddenly as Prime Minister five days previously) behind closed doors, raised voices, shouting matches between the Queen and the Duchess of Kent, and a parade of increasingly harassed-looking Ministers.
"The crux of the matter," the Queen says, "is that I have proposed to Lord Melbourne."
Skerrett cannot help but smile at the news – the Queen has always seemed happiest around Lord Melbourne, "congratulations, Ma'am."
"Thank you, Skerrett, but it is not all good news, you see. The Privy Council – vexing as they are – refuse to countenance this match. They have told me," her voice wavers with anger now, "that if I marry Lord Melbourne I will have to forfeit my crown."
Skerrett gasps, "but Ma'am … can they do that?" she asks, curiosity outweighing her usual deference.
"Lord M tells me they can," the Queen replies with a deep frown on her face, "the Privy Council must approve my marriage and it appears that they do not."
"What will you do, Ma'am?"
Victoria sighs, "I will not give him up. I am sorry for what must happen, as I have always wished to serve my country to the best of my abilities and make my dear papa proud, but I cannot live my life – with all its blessings and burdens – without support … without love."
"You are making a brave decision, Ma'am," Skerrett tells her with conviction, "it is a hard choice."
"Do you think?" Victoria muses, "almost everyone tells me I am being selfish, but there are some things, I think, that one cannot do without."
"It may be bold of me to say, Ma'am, but I think you and Lord Melbourne will be happy, whether or not you are Queen."
"Thank you, Skerrett," Victoria smiles, "you have always understood, I think. That is why I asked to speak with you."
"Ma'am?"
"My … my uncle Cumberland will be returning soon, and he will be crowned as King as England once Lord Melbourne and I have travelled to Brocket Hall to be married. The Privy Council have agreed to bestow my father's title on me so I shall be simply the Duchess of Kent, but I think we shall live at Brocket Hall rather than any of the properties attached to that title. It will not be anything like the palace, but there will still be entertainments and such. My uncle's wife will bring a dresser of her own to work with Mrs Jenkins and so I wondered if you would consider accompanying me to Brocket Hall – it will not be very glamorous, but we would be at Dover House sometimes so you would not be completely cut off from London, and of course your wages will not be reduced."
Victoria looks younger and more nervous than usual, even to Skerrett, who often sees a softer side to the Queen that is usually hidden in public.
The dresser thinks about the unexpected offer. The Queen is kind to her, and she does not anticipate that removal to Brocket Hall will change that. And the security of a job is so important, especially with her cousin (and the baby) to support.
The only thought that gives Skerrett pause is of the palace chef who intrigues her as much as he makes her nervous … But she has always sworn that she would not make the mistake of allowing a man to ruin her plans for a secure and independent life.
"Your Majesty," Skerrett says, with some sadness at the knowledge that she will soon be unable to refer to the woman in front of her as such, "I am so grateful for your offer, and would be pleased to accept."
Victoria sighs in relief and Skerrett locks away the small piece of her heart that has been intrigued by Francatelli.
Victoria's uncle Cumberland will be arriving at Buckingham Palace in the next few hours and so she is in a hurry to leave it.
She has made her choice and she is happy with it, but there is still a rawness to her feelings about giving up her throne, and after so many days of battles with her ministers she is too tired to face her uncle so soon.
She plasters a smile on her face when she sees William, though, because he feels guilty enough as it is without overanalysing her expressions and starting to believe she is regretting her choice.
She will never regret him.
She no longer holds out her hand for him to kiss but he takes it anyway, pressing his lips to her skin in that reverent way that makes her feel like the most adored woman in the world.
"Victoria," he almost whispers as he stands up straight and wraps an arm around her, "are you feeling quite alright."
Of course he senses her fraying emotions – he has always been so very good at reading her.
"A little odd," she admits, because honesty is important to her, especially with William, "but excited too William … excited for the future."
His eyes, a little clouded by worry, brighten at her words.
"The future," he murmurs, "once upon a time, not so long ago, I wondered if mine had any point to it."
"William!" she cries out in shock, "please do not say such things."
"I no longer feel that way," he reassures her, his words now echoing what he said to her years ago, that day at the piano when he told her about his son, "not when I have you, not when I have this."
He leans down to kiss her gently and she smiles against his lips.
"Forever," she promises as they break apart, "you will have me forever, William."
As Victoria finalises her arrangements before they leave Buckingham Palace for Brocket Hall, William finds himself standing next to the Duke of Wellington.
He tenses, unable to help the nerves he feels in the Duke's presence. He and Wellington usually have a fairly amicable working relationship despite their differing politics, but now that William has been the reason for throwing the entire Privy Council and parliament into chaos with his acceptance of Victoria's proposal … well now he is not quite sure what reception he will receive from the popular Duke.
Wellington stays quiet, though, which does not help William feel any more at ease. Deciding that the man might look more favourably on him if he gathers some courage and speaks up first, William ventures to offer the Duke a wry comment.
"I suppose you have come, Wellington, to tell me that I am a fool. Do go on, I've heard it enough times recently that I think I'm rather immune by now."
The Duke smiles, "no, Melbourne, I am not here for that. Anyone of sense knows you certainly tried to talk the Queen … sorry, Duchess … out of all this, but she has got a stubborn will and the bravery to follow through with her promises. She said she would not give you up and those fools thought she would back down if they threatened to force an abdication – it's as if they do not know her at all."
William runs a hand through his hair, "I did warn her, but she was most insistent. I know I could have refused her, but she was so …"
He trails off, quite unable to find the words to properly describe Victoria's character.
"You love her," the Duke states, "and she loves you back. I imagine that made refusing her very difficult, especially as I am sure she talked circles around you until you agreed."
William cannot help but laugh, "you have the right of it, Duke, I admit that."
"Well I hope you will enjoy your retirement, and I am sure that you will have much leisure time now. But perhaps, Melbourne, you may consider putting aside an hour each day to teach your soon-to-be wife a little more about the history and politics that was so deficient in her education. Who knows … soon enough we may have need of Queen Victoria once more.
William only gapes at the implication. The Duke winks.
Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it. Hopefully Part II won't take too long.