"I'm afraid you're tired, Ma'am. Perhaps you should retire." Melbourne took a steadying breath, trying to calm his queen with his own energy. But she staggered drunkenly toward him and said, halfway between laughter and tears,
"I don't want to retire. I want to dance with you."
Then she fell against him, and though he kept his back straight, she reached up and seized his face in her hands. Her eyes, glazed with drink, shifted then, and she pulled herself up onto her tiptoes. Suddenly Melbourne realised she meant to kiss him, and he tried to pull back. But she was determined, and she wrenched him hard against her mouth. Her lips smashed against his, unpractised and unsteady, and Melbourne huffed in shock against her. Finally he took a large step backward, steadying Victoria with his hands on her shoulders. She looked amazed with herself, as though she couldn't believe what she'd done.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with intoxication. Melbourne squeezed a little at her shoulders and shook his head.
"Goodnight, Ma'am."
Victoria backed away, and for a moment he worried that she would topple over. She turned to go, glancing once over her shoulder with fear in her drunken eyes.
Victoria paced in her drawing room, her head aching from the night before. She'd asked him to come; would he answer her summons? Was she even remembering it correctly? Perhaps she hadn't done it, after all. Perhaps the alcohol had marred her memory.
"The Right Honourable Lord Melbourne."
The door opened with the announcement, and Melbourne came striding formally into the drawing room. He immediately dropped to his knee and kissed Victoria's shaking hand, and when he stood, she quickly said,
"I would be remiss not to apologise, Lord M. I was not myself last night."
"No, Ma'am," he agreed, "but you've nothing to apologise for. Consider it forgotten."
She blinked, thinking that she would never be able to forget it now that she knew it had been real. She'd never had a kiss before that - not a real one, anyway. What sort of a first kiss had that been? Her eyes welled a little, and she mumbled,
"I had too much Champagne."
"Yes, Ma'am," Melbourne said stiffly, "and I daresay the Grand Duke did his best to make you profoundly uncomfortable."
"Then I proceeded to make you profoundly uncomfortable, I'm sure," Victoria said regretfully. "I do not want things to be awkward between us now."
Melbourne's face softened then, his jaw tightening and loosening as he told her, "You are very young to have been put in that position, Ma'am. Dancing with strange men, everyone staring at you, the specter of the crown heavy on your head. No one in their right mind would blame you for overindulging in the drink."
"Sir John Conroy did," Victoria said. "He warned me not to drink too much, and I did it anyway. Perhaps I am the fool he's always told me I am."
"If I may suggest it, Ma'am, I think you ought to stop listening to Sir John Conroy." Melbourne seemed angry then, and he added, "He does not have your best interests or anything resembling them at heart, I'm afraid."
"And you?" Victoria asked, and when he tipped his head, she clarified, "You have my best interests at heart, don't you, Lord M?"
"Of course, Ma'am," he said gently. Victoria shifted on her feet.
"So you won't tell anyone what I did? That I... that I kissed you?"
Melbourne scoffed. "No, Ma'am. I do not suppose it would do anyone on Earth any good for me to share that. And, anyway, as I said, I have forgotten it."
"Then you must be awfully good at forgetting," Victoria said. She shut her eyes then, thinking she was probably embarrassing herself worse than ever. She decided then to simply change the subject. She opened her eyes and said gravely, "I believe that there has been a criminal conversation between Lady Flora Hastings and Sir John."
Melbourne narrowed his eyes. "That's quite a weighty accusation, Ma'am. What leads you to believe such a thing?"
"There is evidence that they were alone in a carriage in Scotland, and last night I saw... a dinstinctive swell upon her." Victoria felt her cheeks go warm, but Melbourne shook his head.
"Ma'am. I beg you not to disrupt Lady Flora's powerful Tory allies, nor to trouble your coronation with a scandal like this."
"It would be just like Sir John to have put a child on her," Victoria hissed. "I despise him."
"I recommend that you leave the whole thing be, Ma'am," Melbourne said. "Focus your attentions on your coronation."
"You will be by my side tomorrow, won't you?" Victoria asked carefully. "You'll be there all the while? It will comfort me to have you close on such a momentous occasion."
His green eyes flashed a little, and he said slowly, "I shall be there, Ma'am... as your prime minister."
Victoria felt then as though she'd ruined everything, all the friendship she'd built up with him, and her eyes burned as she told him,
"Then I shall see you tomorrow, Lord Melbourne."
"Ma'am." He bowed, much lower than usual, and he began to back formally from the room. Then he paused, looking as though he'd changed his mind, and he stood up a bit straighter. "Ma'am, there has been so very little rehearsal or preparation about the coronation. I wonder if it might not suit you to go to Westminster Abbey later this afternoon... practise a bit."
Victoria smirked a little. "Are you saying that because I botched my coronation ball so very badly?"
"No, Ma'am." A little hint of a smile danced on his thin lips, and he said, "It is only that it will be a very long ceremony, with a great deal of pomp and many prescribed actions, and I only desire that you look as prepared as possible."
"There you go again," Victoria smiled, "with my best interests at heart. Yes. I shall go over this afternoon. Will you be there?"
He nodded. "Of course I will, Ma'am."
"So," Melbourne said, once he and Victoria had returned to Buckingham Palace from the Abbey, "What did you think, Ma'am?"
"It is quite a lot to take in," she admitted, pouring herself a bit of wine from the decanter between them and sipping nervously from it. Melbourne rather playfully plucked the glass from her hands, knowing he was exceeding his privilege and doing it anyway.
"Perhaps a sober evening, Ma'am," he suggested. "The guns will wake you at four."
"I do not suppose I shall sleep no matter what," Victoria said, but she did not argue about him taking her wine away. He smiled a little at her and shrugged.
"The Bishop of Durham is rather a bumbling fool. He'll make all the mistakes for you. No one else will know their cues or prescribed behaviours. Keep your chin up, your face pleasant, and you will look every bit a monarch."
"Thank you, Lord M," Victoria said seriously. "I do not suppose I would have made it this far without you."
He laughed a little and shook his head. "You don't need me, Ma'am. I am but a fortunate observer."
"I think you are much more than that," she said. "I will feel safe tomorrow with you near me. I shall be terrified, but I shall try very hard not to show it. Will you promise me something?"
"I shall try, Ma'am," Melbourne said cautiously. Victoria picked at her skirts and said nervously,
"When I find your eyes tomorrow, just nod a little to reassure me that I have not failed."
"You could never fail, Ma'am," Melbourne assured her, "but I shall nod just the same."
She was quiet for a long time then, and he knew that she was contemplating the enormous weight that was about to be put upon her. She finally licked her bottom lip and said quietly,
"I do not regret it. I find myself unable to regret it."
Kissing him, she meant. He said nothing. This was not anything they could discuss. And, anyway, she was but a young girl in desperate need of guidance. She was only clinging to him because he was the only one looking out for her. He stared into the glass of wine he'd taken from her and tried not to consider that she was very pretty. He tried not to remember the smell of rose perfume she'd had upon her the night before. She was little more than a girl. She was his queen.
"It will be a very early morning, Ma'am," he said. "I ought to retire and leave you to rest."
"Very well." Victoria stood, and Melbourne flew to his feet to join her. They stood staring at one another for too long a moment, and he found himself noticing the precise colour of her eyes. Victoria blinked up at him and whispered,
"I am very nervous."
"You'll be magnificent, Ma'am," Melbourne assured her. Something compelled him to bend down then, and, very much on impulse, he touched his lips to her cheekbone and whispered again, "You will be magnificent."
She seemed breathless as he stood up straight again, her face seeming very young then as her eyes went wide. Finally she said,
"Goodnight, Lord M."
"Ma'am." He bowed his head and turned to go, knowing that she wouldn't scold him for not backing out. Once he was outside her drawing room, he wrenched his eyes shut and cursed himself. He ought not to have given her that sort of kiss, the kind that must have felt very affectionate. He ought not to have kissed her at all, but then, she'd done it first.
He nearly stormed out of the palace, resolving to simply do his job at her coronation as her prime minister. If she found his eyes, he would nod to reassure her. He would hold the sword of state. But he would also put an end to this nervous flirtation, this buzzing energy that had sprung up between them in the last few days. Tomorrow she would have the weight of her kingdom upon her head, and he vowed to himself that he would step back from her. He would not be in her way.
Author's Note: Well, hello again. This story obviously takes place much earlier in Victoria's reign than the other stories I've written. This will be a novel-length slow burn in which things begin to fizzle and flare between Victoria and Lord M. Once embers turn to flames, can Victoria possibly move onto a princely husband? I hope you'll join me for this fic. Please do leave a comment if you get a quick moment.