Chapter Two: Their Hands in Gloves

Princess Alexandrina, Dash, Flight, and I enjoyed walking in the gardens of Kensington Palace as the month of April wore on and made way for May. Both of our eighteenth birthdays drew nearer, and King William seemed determined to put a hold on his death to ensure that the princess would succeed him. The princess firmly stated that she and I would have a joint day for our birthdays, to be held at midday on the day of her birth, and the celebrations, she decided, would not be over until the twenty-sixth of May. She was quite determined to have a fun day to celebrate, which she was determined would be the final one that she was beneath her mother's and Conroy's thumb.

Baroness Lehzen, although well-meaning, resented the influence I had on the princess and would always seek to drive a wedge in between the two of us. I said nothing, for although I believed the baroness had an unhealthy obsession with my new friend, I knew not to come between them. Lehzen and Dash had been all the young princess had for years, and I did not want to cause my new mistress to send me away. The thought of returning to Pemberley in disgrace was nearly too much for me, and I would spend hours sobbing into my pillow at the thought of it. That, along with Conroy's demands of me, the duchess's and the baroness's dislike, and Lady Flora's rude looks were nearly too much to handle. I only had the princess, dear Flight, and Dash who were not against me.

Mama wrote to me frequently, informing me of the potential for a good match if I was to remain in favor, although my marriage seemed to be far enough away that I believed I had no just cause to worry about it. Papa seldom wrote but when he did manage to do so, he told me to obey Conroy in all things, and I promised him that I would. I would never tell a soul of my alliance with Princess Alexandrina, under the impression that it was a great secret. I knew when to speak and when not to speak, as well as just what to tell Conroy. I would delight in informing him of the young princess's stubborn refusal of granting him the regency, and was further delighted when the frustration was never taken out on me. It seemed as though Conroy held my father in such high regard that he did not wish to potentially risk his displeasure by inflicting pain upon his daughter.

"You're lucky he does not," Princess Alexandrina whispered to me one afternoon when we were left alone with our spaniels. "He can be very cruel, if he has a mind to be so. Miss V. Conroy barely escaped with her father's harsh words after I refused to play with her soon after I turned fourteen..."

"Surely, he would not deliberately inflict pain upon his own daughter," I say, shaking my head at the very notion of it. "Surely he is not so much of a monster that he would—"

She sighed. "Unfortunately, it could occur," she replies. "Of course, it is not nearly as bad as what I had to put up with..."

"Dear God, ma'am, what did they do to you?" I whisper.

The princess lowers her eyes, as if ashamed. "If I was very bad, as a little girl, I was made to stand in the most darkened of staircases...for hours...with my hands tied behind my back," she whispers.

"Good God, no!" I whispered.

"We shall not dwell upon it," she says quickly, taking me firmly by the hand and putting a smile upon her face, "for next week we are to turn eighteen, and then we shall soon escape this oppression."

"Ma'am..."

"Yes, Felicity?" she asked.

"I heard tell that His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen applied for guardianship of you some years ago..."

She nodded. "That is true."

"Well, perhaps, once you are eighteen, we may be at court more often. Then, perhaps, you will not be bidden to return to Kensington as much, and you can be happy in your aunt and uncle's company..."

She smiles, squeezing my hands. "Mayhap that shall be," she replies. "And then we may dine upon jellies and sweets and anything a young princess desires. And when I take the throne, I shall not be forced into a marriage and you shall be an advisor for me, Felicity."

"I, ma'am? Surely some gentleman are far better suited..."

"As my Hanoverian uncle would have England believe," she says, almost as if there is a sour taste in her mouth, "but I do not believe so, Felicity, and neither should you. You and Lehzen are all I need to run my country effectively and efficiently, and we shall have a household of dogs..."

"And you've no wish for a husband, ma'am? Truly?"

She shrugs. "Perhaps, if I can find a gentleman who can abide by my size and the notion that my hair is not blonde."

"On the contrary, ma'am, I find that since we are closer to the ground, we can hear much better as a result. And we too can hide in places others cannot and hear certain things that way."

"We are not spies, Felicity," the princess replies, but laughs anyhow. "I am a princess and you a high-born lady. And when I become queen, perhaps you shall have your very own title, so as to get you the best match possible."

"A match, ma'am?"

"Of course," she replies. "Why do you think your mama writes to you so often? I know as well as anyone that a mother wishes to see her daughter marrying well, and I shall ensure that you do so. But hopefully you shall love the man you wed, Felicity, and if an eligible man asks for you hand but you despise him, you shall not wed him, and I shall send him from court!"

I proceed to giggle. "Ma'am, I hardly think—"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I am merely a day older than you, Felicity, and I'm not queen yet. Call me 'Drina', everyone does."

"Lehzen does not," I say. "I hardly think the baroness would approve, ma'am, and I want no ill will between her and I."

"There is no ill will between you, Felicity, because I forbid it," she says firmly, yet not unkindly. You and she are the only women in my life I can trust—other than your Flight—and I will not have any form of trepidation."

"Of course, ma'am," I reply.

"Drina," she says, stressing the word.

I nod at her, knowing I must obey. "Drina," I reply.

. . .

Drina's and my birthday celebrations began the week prior, as Drina decreed that such a birthday was too important not to spend a week upon. New gowns for the pair of us were commissioned by the queen's seamstress herself, and were sent to Kensington Palace immediately thereafter for a fitting. Drina's was a lovely blue while mine was a deep green silk. Drina ordered music and dancing for the grand celebration, and, when the dresses arrived, another surprise was forthcoming. It seemed as if Drina and I had been invited to court for a grand birthday celebration by the king himself. Of course, I understood that the celebration would revolve entirely around Drina, but I didn't mind—it was a chance to go to court and see a king and queen.

It was a summons from the king, and the Duchess of Kent nor Sir John Conroy were able to weasel their way out of this one. Baroness Lehzen, I saw, was irritated that I got an invitation, whereas she did not. Drina and I were permitted to bring Dash and Flight along as well, and I was pleased, for I did not trust Sir John alone with either dog. When I was readying myself for the journey to London by carriage, Sir John entered my rooms unannounced, and I quickly made a grab for Flight, not wanting him to kick her from his path as I'd frequently seen him do with either Dash or Flight.

Sir John gave me that warped smile of his as he entered my chambers, ignoring the maid working within my inner rooms to make sure my suitcases were packed accordingly. "You are aware of the rules of propriety when it comes to going to court, correct, Lady Felicity?" Sir John asks.

I curtsy to him, keeping a good grip upon Flight and trying my best to stare at a space of wall behind him. "Of course, Sir John."

Sir John steps forward then, yanking against my arm, and nearly causing me to drop Flight in the process. He gave a look of contempt at the animal as it cried out in my arms, and I was quick to silence her, giving one of my father's oldest friends a look of such contempt—thankfully, he believed it was for his hurting of the dog, and he chuckled. "Clumsy me," he replied.

"Careful, there," I reply, and move to leave the room.

He reaches out for me then, pulling me back towards him and silencing me completely with a look of disdain. "You've done well in befriending the princess, Lady Felicity, but I want you to remember who you're working for."

I clench my teeth momentarily, forcing my tone to come out kind. "I never forget, Sir John," I say, raising my eyes to his. "I never forget."

"You will continue to persuade the princess that she needs guidance and molding until her twenty-fifth birthday?" he asks.

I gasp aloud. "Sir John, the princess turns eighteen in just three days. You know as well as I do that the realm dictates that—"

"I care not a fig what the realm dictates, Felicity!" Sir John shouts under his breath, forgetting propriety for a moment, although I did not believe that such a man had ever learned such a thing in all his life. "The princess must be contained, as she will behave so rashly, and we cannot have that!"

Sensing his grip upon me growing tighter, I forced myself not to crumble at the harshness of his tone, nor for the fear he sent through me. "Of course not, Sir John," I replied, knowing that we were not yet safe. "I shall speak to her, of course, for I know she benefits from your worthy teachings."

His gaze upon me softens then, and he looks upon my hair, tied back in the bun that Drina so favored. "Did your maids do that?"

I nod. "Yes, Sir John. The princess wishes for me to wear her hair similarly to hers, for it is what everyone in London is wearing, apparently."

"Does it take long to put up?"

"Just a few moments," I reply, feeling nervous as he raises his hands and runs his fingers along its softness. "They've got to brush and gather the hair, before pulling it back and pinning it in place. Not so long..."

Sir John smiles, reaching back at once and pulling the clips out of my hair; at once, the raven mane comes undone and flows down my back. As he runs his fingers through it, I do my best not to become ill, and look at the carpet pattern just below my slippered feet. He leans down then, and I stiffen at his closeness and hot breath upon my neck as his lips gently brush my skin, just below my ear. "One would think where you came from, Lady Felicity..."

I force my eyes to lock with his then, as his head pulls back to stare at me. "Sir John?" I manage to ask, finding that I am nearly trembling.

"Both your mother and father have gone hair as brown as the princesses," he says, almost as if reciting a poem. "And you... Yours is as dark as night. It is a wonder that you are a Darcy at all," he says as we hear footsteps just outside. He pulls himself away from me then, and narrows his eyes at me. "I hardly think wearing your hair about your shoulders like a peasant girl is appropriate!" he barks then, just as Baroness Lehzen comes into the room. "Baroness, have someone come in and fix Lady Felicity's hair at once!" he shouts, before leaving the room.

Baroness Lehzen lets out a sigh of exasperation and pulls me into my inner rooms and looks at the maid. "Pin her hair up!" she orders. As the maid rushes to finish the task over again, the baroness looks on me with annoyance. "I don't know what you're playing at Lady Felicity—or whatever dealings you've made with Sir John Conroy—but it ends now."

I do my best not to narrow my eyes at Lehzen. "Thank you, baroness, but I don't believe in soiling my reputation," I reply smartly.

. . .

The ball for Drina's birthday was a lovely occasion; we were to wear masks and the whole entertainment for the evening was not knowing who you were going to dance with next. Hand to hand, eye to eye, it was all a wonderful experience, and I was pleased to share in it with Drina. King William and Queen Adelaide were tolerant and lovely monarchs, and seemed almost as delighted to meet me as they were to greet their niece. I was pulled aside by King William during one of the dances, and I felt compelled to keep silent until he spoke.

"I do hope Sir John Conroy is not giving you too difficult a time, Lady Felicity," he said quietly to me.

"He attempts to, Your Majesty, and although I find myself in a male-dominated society, I find I shall not crumble and weaken, nor shall I take on the weakened characteristics of a mouse," I say with a smile. "Sir John may wish to overtake me or corrupt the image of the princess in my mind, but he cannot, and he shall not, sir, I swear it."

The king smiles. "I know you shall prove to be a loyal subject to my dear niece, when the time comes for her to take the throne."

"At least we shall be safer now, sir, for now that she has reached the plum age, she may rule without the strings of Conroy," I reply.

. . .

That night plays over and over again in my mind, and it is only four weeks later when a horseman arrives at Kensington Palace as dawn breaks. I had already risen from my bed, unable to sleep, so I put on my dressing gown and sat with Flight in the window embrasure to watch the sun rise. However, it was the horseman that arrived over the horizon, before the sun, and I could see the black armband from my window. Heart in my throat, I set Flight down and beg for her to stay, while I get to my feet and leave out the back door of my chambers, walking outside and into the hallway, where I see Lehzen walking up the staircase and tapping on the bedroom door that Drina stares with the Duchess of Kent.

I watch as Lehzen opens the door and Drina is quick on her feet, following Lehzen down the stairs as Dashy moves to follow her, which is when I feel Flight's wet nose on my bare ankle. I gather her into my arms and slip down the back flight of stairs, going in through the intricate hallways of the palace and into where I know the man will have gone—the drawing room. I peer in through the space between a bookshelf in the room outside, and spot the man going to his knees as Drina stands before him, in her long white dressing gown, and mechanically offers him her hand to kiss.

"Long live the Queen," come the words from his lips.

Drina looks up then, and the sun seems to rise around her. I manage to contain my gasp as Drina thanks the gentleman and turns about, Dash in her wake, and they run back towards the staircase. Quickly, I turnabout and make my way up the back stairs, coming to my bedroom just as Drina makes it up the stairs and looks at me then, our dressing gowns identical, our manes about our shoulders, our dogs running towards the other in excitement.

"So, at last," she says, a hand placed on the banister.

Immediately, I walk towards her and fall to my knees. "God bless and keep His Majesty King William the Fourth of England, and may you live long and have a happy reign, Your Majesty," I say.

Drina's hand darts out then and clasps my wrist, and I immediately follow her arm upwards, so as we are standing eye to eye. "We must go to London at once," she declares with a smile. "I want to see my kingdom."

"If you order it, ma'am, I know it shall be," I reply.

. . .

Lord Melbourne arrives later that day to express his condolences over the death of King William and to get to know Drina better. Lehzen has issue with Drina seeing him alone, although I know that the monarch must see their Prime Minister alone and do not harp on it. Instead, I go to my chambers and proceed to pack everything that I believe will be suitable for court, for Drina had expressed a desire and going at once. Flight falls asleep when the Prime Minister arrives and as I am packing my belongings, so much so that I don't hear Sir John entering my rooms.

"You have spoken to the princess, I take it, Felicity?"

I force myself not to go ridged as I motion to the maid to continue packing. I manage to compose myself before turning about and addressing Sir John with a calm eloquence that anyone would be proud of. "Of course, I have spoken to her, Sir John, but one must not order a queen. There is a fine line to tread upon, sir, and due to today's events, I believe you should break it to her gently."

"You shall not tell her?" Sir John demands, irate.

I shake my head. "I shall not, for I am a servant to the Queen of England—my loyalty is to her and to her well-being. I hardly think being commanded by you as if she is a madwoman will hardly be seen as in her best interests."

At once, Sir John is across the room and is gripping me on my brachium, staring intently into my eyes. "You have no right to speak to me in such a way, Lady Felicity—you forget yourself."

"I do not," I reply, forcing my tone to remain contained. "You will turn me lose right now and you will leave this room."

"I will not take orders from a mere woman," Sir John spat, his eyes unwilling to leave my own.

"Let. Me. Go," I replied, my voice firm.

Sir John leaned down then, yanking me towards him and firmly kissing me on the mouth. Even as I attempted to struggle, he held me there, yet I was able to keep my lips closed and locked to him. He releases me then, apparently angered at not getting more from me, yet thankfully he turns me lose.

Once I'm officially released, I raise my hand and smack him as hard as I can across the face. "God in heaven help you, Sir John," I say.

Sir John merely brings a hand to his own cheek, before walking out of my rooms and doesn't turn back.

. . .

"And he says I may call it whatever I like!" Drina says with glee, clutching at my hands. "For Buckingham House hardly seems appropriate—" She stops herself then and gazes at me, searching my face for a glimmer of excitement. "Felicity, are you not listening? I may rename a royal residence!"

I nod, forcing myself to smile. "Yes—it's wonderful, Your Majesty. I am sorry, it has been a long journey..."

She catches at my arm as I move to curtsy to her, and slowly brings me upwards and stares at me again. "Is something the matter, Felicity? You hardly spoke a word to me as we came into London, and I'm inclined to think that coming into London is quite an accomplishment..."

I sighed, staring at her. "What would you think, ma'am, if a gentleman grabbed you and kissed you?" I asked her.

Drina raises her eyebrows. "Are you speaking of a man you love or a man you loathe, Felicity?"

"Loathe," I reply. "Ma'am," I hastily add.

"Well, then you must inform me of who he is at once, as I will have him banished from court forthwith," she replies.

"I'm am afraid it is not at all that simple, ma'am," I reply, "for the Duchess of Kent loves his influence upon her..."

At once, her eyes register in understanding. "Felicity, do you mean to tell me that Sir John Conroy has kissed you?" she demands.

I nod, lowering my eyes. "Yes—and I offered him no encouragement—quite the opposite, actually. I spoke of my loyalty to you and it enraged him, ma'am. It was before we left for your birthday at court that he kissed me here," I say, indicating the space below my ear where he had kissed me the first time, "and then, before we left for London, he grabbed me and...kissed...my lips, ma'am..."

Drina promptly pulls me into her arms as I make sure I do not allow myself to shed any tears. "It is all right," she replies. "I will think on a way to be rid of him, Felicity, but you must be patient. And remember," she says, letting me go and staring into my eyes, "he's on the other side of the palace, while you've got yourself a nice suite of rooms near mine. You'll not have to deal with him directly, and you'll only see him in mixed company, until I can find a way to be fruitfully rid of him."

I nod, smiling at her. "I know you will think of something, ma'am," I reply, "and I shall rest easier tonight because of it."

We say goodnight shortly thereafter and I retire to my rooms, where a maid is awaiting me. She undresses me for bed and puts me in a nightgown, and Flight is already awaiting me upon my bed. I thank the maid once she's finished and curtsies, leaving me behind with my loyal spaniel. I sit at my vanity table and take the pins from my hair, the raven locks cascading down my back. I shudder as I recall Conroy interlocking them in his fingers, and wonder if I shall ever let a man near me again because of his behavior. I pick up my brush and pull it through my hair, nibbling at my bottom lip to keep from shouting aloud at the tangles that have found their way into the nest of it.

I light the lamp beside my bed and climb into it, opening the drawer of my nightstand then and pulling out the letter from my mother. I'd had to secret it in there that afternoon, when Drina had summoned me after her discussion with Lord Melbourne before supper. Lord Melbourne had taken a shine to the new queen, and while so many members of the court seemed to dislike him, I found his manner altogether enlightening and he seemed to be quite a friendly sort of fellow. I broke the sealing wax of the letter from my mother, scanning her words.

My dearest Felicity,

I am concerned about the last correspondence that your father got from Sir John Conroy, as there appears to be a new development between you two. Sir John has written that you have been acting quite tempestuous lately, and when he attempts to draw you back in line, you have the audacity to defy him. I raised my daughter to be a free-thinker, Felicity, but not to blatantly disregard authority to the point of pure hostility.

I don't want to have to fetch you home because of a false illness, Felicity, but if your behavior continues, I shall soon have no choice. Sir John Conroy is a married man, Felicity, and I know that, at times, passion can have no bounds, but you may never share a kiss with a man who enjoys wedded bliss, Felicity. Kissing Sir John Conroy and then slapping him is not the kind of daughter that I raised, nor your father, and it is a blemish on the Darcy name.

Sir John quite understands that young women are prone to flights of fancy, and he believes that with strict guidance, your behavior will improve. I've taken the liberty of allowing him full-access to you, Felicity, so as he, the Duchess of Kent, and Lady Flora Hastings can properly school you in ladylike manners. I know you shall not disappoint me, my darling and, quite soon, you shall have a proper man on your arm.

Do be better behaved in future, darling.

Your mother,

Lady Elizabeth, Viscountess Pemberley

Immediately, I get to my feet, careful not to disturb Flight as I throw on my dressing gown and step into my slippers. I dash from my rooms then, letter in hand, and run to Drina's chambers, just down the corridor. I look up imploringly at the guards, and pray that something will be done.

"Lady Felicity Darcy to see the queen," I manage to get out.

One of the guards steps inside to inform a maid, who will then inform Drina about my being outside—in my dressing gown, no less. Finally, the main returns to the guard who comes out, letting me inside without a word. I feel the hot tears coming down my face then as Drina emerges, now in her dressing gown with her pale brown hair flowing down her back. She catches sight of my expression and orders her maids—and, thankfully, Lehzen—out of the room, whereupon she catches my hands and urges me into a seat.

"Felicity, whatever is the matter?" she asks.

"Pardon the disturbance, Your Majesty—I've just received this from my mother at Pemberley," I reply in a rush, handing over the letter.

Drina takes the letter and clasps it, her eyes roving over the text and, quite soon, she is shaking. She gets up on her feet in a moment of pure, unadulterated anger and throws the letter without ceremony into the fire, whereupon she grabs a poker and fishes it out, having changed her mind. She looks back at me, her eyes wild with fury, and looks me over.

"There's absolutely no truth to this, Felicity, correct?"

"None whatsoever, ma'am," I reply, the tears frozen on my cheeks.

Drina crumples the letter in her hand. "We shall not stand for this behavior in my court, Felicity—and from a man who claims to be a gentleman!" she yells. "I shall write to your mother myself, and inform her that if she dares to go against my express demands again, then she and your father will be subjected to treason, the punishment of which is death!"

"Drina!" I shout, forgetting myself and falling to my knees before her. "I beseech you, please, do not charge them!" I cry out, and find that, for the second time that evening, I am weeping like a newborn babe.

Drina softens then and leans down, picking me up from the floor and smoothing my hair back. "Don't fret," she says gently. "No harm shall come to them. I shall merely tell them that they shall lose their titles if they continue to correspond with Sir John. Will that suffice?"

I nod. "Yes, ma'am," I manage to get out.

"I shall write it at once," Drina decrees, walking over to her desk and sitting down immediately, selecting a piece of parchment and scrawling down a series of letters before the sealing wax is prepared. "Come and read it, Felicity," she commands and I rise to my feet, coming to stand beside her.

Viscount and Viscountess Pemberley,

I have just received troubling information regarding your letter from your daughter, Felicity. Felicity informed me this evening that it was your loyal and good friend Sir John that kissed her, and that such a thing was by force. I do not have liars serving me, viscount and viscountess, which is why I am inclined to believe your daughter, my good and loyal friend, in comparison to who took my childhood and changed it and not for the better.

Sir John Conroy is a tyrant, plain and simple. He sees no need for a child to have an imagination, and finds that strict discipline, in any given circumstance, is the correct way to rear a child. I learned to keep quiet beneath him, but now that I am, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom, of Great Britain and Ireland, Queen, Defender of the Faith. As such, I command that all my subjects speaketh to truth to me, and Felicity, having done so, must be speaking the truth. That makes Sir John Conroy a liar, and a traitor to your family.

One must remember to not doubt one's family at whatever cost, if they have not given them reason for doing so. As Felicity has not, I expect you to recall that she is not only my dear friend but your daughter as well, and daughters are as important as sons. If I can rule and be a queen and be God's anointed, then surely you can understand my willingness to readily believe her without question or formal questioning.

I am afraid that if you continue to speak with Sir John in any way, I shall have your titles removed. Since Felicity has served me faithfully, she will remain my lady-in-waiting and will also remain Lady Felicity Darcy. If Sir John Conroy demands to know what you are not writing or communicating with him in any other way, you have my permission to write directly to me, and I shall see to it that his correspondence is stopped forthwith.

I don't take kindly to people's defiance, viscount and viscountess, so see to it that I am not defied.

Your Sovereign,

By the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom, of Great

Britain and Ireland, Queen, Defender of the Faith