Le Scandale
Victoria awoke in darkness and hugged Albert's pillow close to her, breathing in the familiar smell of his cologne and biting back the tears which were now her constant companion. Her only comfort would fade soon and then she would have no reminders, Lehzen had already attempted to wash the bedclothes on numerous occasions.
She barely slept anymore, and when she did drift off into a restless slumber, the echo of a gunshot pierced her ears and she would wake, gasping for breath and calling out to anyone who would listen. Six months of her widowhood had passed and she was not yet finished grieving, her mother did not feel as though she had yet truly begun.
The guilt was the worst part of it all. The horrendous notion that it should have been her, and not the husband with whom she had yet to share an anniversary, tore her apart. But Victoria felt far more criminal for her desire to have died on that day, in Albert's place, just so she would not have to suffer another day of her marriage, another day of being treated as a child. During those few months she had retreated into herself, brow beaten and reduced to an infant in her own mind. And so she felt guilt upon the death of the man with whom she was supposedly in love, with whom she was supposed to sire a dozen heirs not only for her own throne, but for the thrones of Europe, but following his funeral, she felt such a profound sense of relief that it was only then that she began to weep.
Victoria knew now that her infatuation was not love, not in the purest sense of the word, in which one would die for their beloved and not hope to die in their place just to be spared the indignity of the situation. No, Victoria did not love Albert, and her heart was not given without reservation. It belonged to another and he had taken possession of it many years ago.
Calling to Dash to cuddle close to her, Victoria sighed dejectedly at the thought of the day ahead, of everyone's stares, so full of pity for the black clad widow-child, of the abrupt cessation of chatter upon her entrance into a room, and of having to appear as though she was truly in mourning.
Leaning her head back against the plush headboard, Victoria started as Lehzen called from behind the door.
Calling out to her former governess, she allowed her entry and grew perplexed at the curious expression of disapproval on the Baroness' face.
"Majesty, there has been a most peculiar incident in the House overnight. The Whigs have overthrown the Tories."
"How could this be? Peel did not mention any difficulty in passing his bills." Victoria feigned indignation and hoped that Lehzen could not hear her heart beating under her shift.
Handing her former charge an envelope, Lehzen bowed her head and left the room, muttering about "the impudence of that man," in German.
Victoria took that to mean one thing.
Lord Melbourne would be returning to the Palace.