Author's note: This chapter took longer than I expected. Sorry about that. A friendly reminder that we are coloring outside the lines of history, so beware! Also if you're a fan of Albert, this story might not be for you. FYI. But since I've already made Leopold a villain, all bets are off, lol. I hope you enjoy this update!
Disclaimer: Nope.
Chapter 4
She was pretty sure she was lost. Who needed to live in a house this big anyway? Endless corridors, unused rooms, cloth covered furniture, it all felt like a waste of time and money to Emma. Then again, she'd never had much growing up. Hell, she hadn't even purchased her own home until she was thirty! Although, when she thought about it, she wasn't entirely certain purchased was the right word. Magically acquired? No one stopped her or questioned her when she declared the cute Victorian home Killian had chosen as hers.
That might have been due to the Dark Swan.
Whatever. It didn't matter. The point was that Emma was wandering a freaking palace in another world, another time and she was lost. She was supposed to meet Victoria after her daily meeting with Lord Melbourne, but hell if she could remember which of the many, many rooms it was. Over the last couple of days, they'd taken to stealing off away from Victoria's ladies for some…well, girl time, for lack of a better word. Emma sensed something fundamental had changed between the Queen and her Prime Minister, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. They'd crossed some sort of line, but honestly, Emma didn't want to pry too deeply.
The woman was the Queen of England, for crying out loud.
She couldn't just say, "Um, Victoria, have you gotten freaky with the very sexy older gentleman who also happens to be your Prime Minister?" God, her cheeks were red just thinking about it. Not because Emma was a prude—she certainly was not—nor because she thought there was anything wrong with being with someone older. Hell, her husband was centuries older than her! But Victoria was young, and Emma just didn't know how to build friendships with other women. Elsa was the only person she'd met who could get her from a magical perspective and she was off ruling Arendelle. Sure, Emma had her mom and Regina to a certain extent, but that was her mom and her son's other mom. It was weird, even now.
Killian was the greatest friend she'd ever had.
All that to say, Emma felt very out of her depth. Victoria was so overjoyed to have a friend who was also royalty that it was little bit overwhelming. Emma was forced to come up with some very creative stories to tell about where she was from and how she'd grown up. Once their "secret" was out, she and Killian had worked long into the night to flesh it out into something plausible. She thought they'd done a good job; Henry would be proud. Unfortunately, none of it seemed to bring them any closer to finding a way home.
They'd been in this world for over a week and still had no idea how to fix it. Emma even tried using her magic to force open a portal, but not even the Savior had that power. They seemed to be well and truly stuck.
Emma stopped abruptly, forcing herself to try and get her bearings. Was this the east wing or the west wing? She hoped it was the west wing, because the east wing was where Victoria's mother, the Duchess of Kent, lived. She didn't seem to be Emma's biggest fan at the moment, even though Leopold's disgrace wasn't Emma's fault. If he hadn't been so nosy or so determined to get Victoria to do his bidding, then none of this would have happened.
The sun was just peaking out of the top of the windows to her right; that meant she was in the west wing. Good. Now if she could just find the right room! This corridor looked vaguely familiar; there was a door opened ahead to her left. It might be the right place; she honestly had no idea. There was only one way to know. "Hello? Anyone there?"
No one answered. Wasn't this place supposed to be crawling with servants? She hadn't seen any in some time; that was odd. The Baroness especially liked to hover, ever overprotective of her charge. But Victoria was a grown woman. The door was about halfway open, but she saw a light flickering. Someone was in there. "Hello? Victoria, is that you?"
Just as her skirts cleared the door, it slammed shut! She opened her mouth to cry out, but she was cut off by two strong arms and a hand over her mouth. "Bloody hell, woman, I thought you'd never get here."
She relaxed; it was just Killian. "You scared me half to death!"
He chuckled. "My apologies, love, but how else am I supposed to get some alone time with my wife?"
"How the hell did you know where I would be?"
"An educated guess. I'm actually very observant, particularly when my wife's time is being monopolized."
"We agreed that I was supposed to make friends!"
"Aye, well, you seem to have some free time now." He loosened his hold, but he didn't release her. Emma wanted to be annoyed, but she couldn't muster the energy. As much as she liked Victoria as a person, it was exhausting to be around her. In fact, the last couple of nights she and Killian had been up late with Victoria and Melbourne, drinking and playing cards. The Queen of England could get quite tipsy when she indulged herself.
However, late nights meant that Emma always fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, secure in her husband's arms.
Killian drew her flush against him with his false hand, dragging his nose along the curve of her neck. He couldn't get enough of her scent. "I've missed you, love."
She sighed, taking his free hand in hers and guiding it to her breast. His touch was rough, insistent, fighting against the layers of her gown. His lips touched her skin, sending tingles all over her body. What was it about him that made her feel like a horny teenager? "You're making me late," she reminded him, licking her lips. "I'm supposed to be meeting her right now."
"She can wait a few minutes." He resumed kissing her throat; his scruff burned over the tender flesh. "She's probably still at her damn boxes."
"Good." Emma turned and hissed him hard, pouring all her frustration into it. A heated meeting of lips and tongues and clacking teeth had her wet and aching in moments, eager for her husband's attentions. Still, she couldn't help but tease him. "Always trying to cause trouble, aren't you?"
He smirked and squeezed her breast. Emma bit back a moan. "Scoundrel, darling."
She cocked a brow at him. "Just how much trouble are you planning on causing, Captain?"
"Far too much, Princess." He grinned as his lips descended on hers and Emma simply surrendered. He was right; their roles here didn't give them much time to be together. She knew they spent most of their days together in Storybrooke, but society had changed a lot since Victoria's time. Emma missed her husband, something she was going to rectify immediately.
A wave of her hand locked the door securely. Killian didn't even wait until she was finished before he backed them into a piece of furniture. A desk, as it happened. His fingers plucked at the laces of her gown and Emma gasped. "Here?"
"Pirate, love." He grinned at her and resumed his task. Emma rolled her eyes, but she made no move to stop him. Instead, she tugged forcefully on the knot of his cravat, unwinding the material from his throat. Killian was very sexy in the period clothes, but she missed the tease of his chest hair, the line of his throat. The place where neck met shoulder was secretly one of her favorites.
"Why does everyone here wear so many layers?" she complained. Killian had gotten the dress loose, but she was still covered in about three more layers.
"No bloody idea," he grunted, trying to work the material off her body.
"This is stupid." She waved her hand again and suddenly all their clothes were gone in swirling white smoke. They materialized over in one of the chairs, neatly folded.
"I love you," Killian said in awe, jerking her back to him. She giggled as he picked her up and carried them to the velvet covered settee by the cold fireplace. Emma smirked knowingly as another wave of her hand lit the fire. Killian loved watching her use her magic, no matter if it was against a monster or something decidedly more fun. "Minx."
"Hey, at least we won't get cold."
"Oh, I have every intention of keeping you warm, Princess." He flipped them over, so Emma was on her back. She opened her legs automatically, moaning as his weight settled between them. They made out lazily, in much less of a hurry than they should have been. The moment was broken by his brace banging hard on the settee. "Fucking hell."
"Here." Emma reached up and with practiced fingers opened the buckles and leather that held the brace in place. It fell to the floor with a thump and she drew his stump to her lips. She kissed the scarred tissue lovingly, reminding him once again that she adored all of him.
Killian shivered, to this day moved by the way this woman loved him. Monsters, their ugly pasts, scars internal and external, nothing deterred her. All these years later and it still had the power to shake him to the core. He didn't deserve any of this, but he was never going to let it go. Quickly, he ducked to plunder her mouth, groaning as she ground against him. "Swan."
"I thought I married a pirate?"
"Oh, now you've done it." He stood up, snatching at her hand. Emma moved to sit up, but Killian tugged her into a standing position. Forcefully, he turned her around, so she was facing away from him; her eyes widened as she spotted the mirror on the opposite wall. She watched as he drew her flush against him, holding her in place with his left arm. Meanwhile, his hand cupped a breast, kneading and fondling until her nipple was a stiff aching point. "Touch yourself," he purred in her ear. "I want to see you."
"Yes, Captain." She wet her lips, slowly circling her fingertip around the areola of her left breast. The skin puckered almost immediately; it was very arousing to touch her body as her lover watched. Emma squirmed a little as she got closer and closer to the swollen tip, wetness slid down her thighs. Killian placed a line of kisses along her shoulder, his hand caressing her belly and hip. She could feel how hard he was, his long thick cock nestled in the cleft of her ass. She cupped both breasts with a soft moan; the tease felt too good to stop.
"Hmm, there's my naughty Princess," he growled, thrusting his hips gently against her ass. "You like touching yourself, don't you?"
"I like it more when you watch, Captain."
He grinned salaciously, dipping his hand between her legs. She was dripping. "I see." He let her taste, then went back for seconds for himself. She tasted divine; it was one of his favorite treats. The settee cut off her nude form from the waist down, but that somehow made everything more intense. He touched her sex, a slow tease of her clit. Emma moaned and arched; a fresh wave of want rolled through her.
"Killian…"
"Tell me what you want, darling."
"More," she breathed. "Please."
He gave her a little shove. "Lean over the couch, Princess."
Emma shivered; he infused his voice with just enough of the pirate captain to make her need. They sometimes played Pirate and Princess or Pirate and Wench, both of which she loved. She loved everything about her husband; she didn't want him to feel like he needed to hide anything about himself. He was a pirate and she liked that.
Killian kissed his way down her back, enjoying the pink flush of her skin. Emma had a lovely arse; he carefully parted her cheeks and gave her a good lick.
"Oh fuck," she breathed, his tongue doing wicked things to her. His hand teased her, fingers sliding over wet folds, nails scraped over the edge of her entrance. He knew exactly how to drive her crazy.
"My wanton Princess." He pushed two fingers into her heat, his tongue still working her puckered hole. "Do you know how fucking sexy this is, love?"
She whined, his touch still only teasing her. It was nowhere near enough to get her off. She was hungry for him, desperate to fall over the edge. "Killian…please."
He moved his hand faster, curling his fingers to find her sweet spot. He knew he found it when she began to tremble, right on the edge of orgasm. "Not so fast, Princess."
She cried out in frustration, but Killian was already moving behind her. He knelt on the cushion, his hand guiding her hips back. They both moaned loudly as he filled her in one stroke, her walls stretching to accommodate him. "God yes," Emma breathed, using the top edge of the settee as a hand hold so she could ride him. Killian wove his hand into her hair, content to watch his gorgeous wife fuck his cock like the wanton she was.
"That's it, Princess," he muttered. "So wet and tight for me, aren't you?"
She mewled, secretly addicted to how much thicker his accent got during sex. The well read man fell away to reveal the sexy pirate within. It felt like he was made for her; their bodies moving in complete sync, feeling off each other's desire. "Yes, Captain," she agreed, biting back another moan. "Only for you."
He growled, giving her ass a teasing smack. "Faster," he ordered, watching her in the mirror. She was so beautiful like this; this was the kind of adventure he could enjoy. Trapped in another realm with the most stunning companion, the woman he loved more than anything in the world, watching as she gave herself over to pleasure. He moved with her, thrusting forward as she thrust back, their hips slapping together deliciously. Emma moaned loudly, her lover's cock hitting her deep.
"Killian, oh fuck, that's good," she breathed, chasing orgasm. "So. Fucking. Good."
"Love watching you ride my cock, Princess. Such a needy thing." He bent over her, his right hand beside hers on the top of the settee, his hips jerking into hers. They knew each other well, yet always sought to find new ways of finding their peak. "Look in the mirror, darling," he whispered in her ear. "See what a dirty wench you are. All for me."
She mewled, dragging her eyes to the mirror. She saw herself, hair a mess, lips kiss bitten, pupils blown, knuckles white as he slammed into her over and over again. Emma had always enjoyed sex, but there was something about Killian that made her crave it. Perhaps True Love was the ultimate aphrodisiac. "Yes, Captain, yes," she whined, so, so close to coming. "All yours."
"Now, love. Let me watch you fall." A few more strokes and she was there, shattering in his arms, walls clamping viciously around his cock. He grunted, rocking through it, desperate to enjoy her as long as possible. Emma sagged, her head falling down between her arms, caught up in the undertow as Killian fucked her to completion. She felt him pulse, warm spurts of his seed filling her. She shivered, her hand finding his as he pumped into her until he was spent. Killian panted, still leaning on her, not wanting to let her go. This was exactly where he wanted to be.
They curled up together on the settee; Emma rested her head on her husband's chest. She liked listening to his heart thump, proof that he was alive and well. Even after years of marriage, she liked having that reassurance.
Killian kissed her hairline. "Worth being late for the Queen?"
"How am I supposed to explain?"
"I told you, Swan. You married a scoundrel, far beneath you."
"Hey, don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Put yourself down. In case you missed it, I've never pretended to be a saint here."
"One of the many reasons I love you, Swan."
She raised her head. "You are a good man, Killian Jones. I wouldn't have fallen in love with you if you weren't."
"Old habits, love. Centuries of darkness."
She kissed his lips. "I know. Just try. For me."
"Anything for you." He sighed into her kiss, combing his fingers through her long locks. "As much I don't want to let you go…"
She deflated. "I know. If I don't show soon, Victoria will probably send out a search party."
"I think she's simply lonely," he said wisely. "From the history I know, she was very sheltered. And there's no one else here who's her equal."
"Melbourne is."
Killian shook his head. "You'll never convince him of that. She's the bloody Queen. He's convinced he doesn't deserve her."
"Speaking from experience?"
Killian nodded. "Aye. And now this Albert bloke is coming. I've no earthly idea how we're going to get out of this, Swan."
"We'll figure it out. We always do."
He grinned. "My love, the optimist."
"Maybe I'm feeling good because I laid for the first time in two days."
"Well, if that's all it takes…" Killian smirked, lips descending on hers.
Emma was going to be very late.
"Where have you been?"
Emma winced inwardly. Of all the people she could run into on her way to find Victoria, it had to be the Baroness. "I got turned around," she said, partly honestly. "This place is a maze. Baroness." She held her head up and tried to sound princess like.
The Baroness may not like her, but her tone did the trick. The older woman curtsied swiftly. "Apologies, Your Highness. I spoke out of turn. Her Majesty was simply worried."
"I will apologize to Her Majesty for my tardiness. Is she still in the library?"
"She has moved to the music room. Do you wish me to guide you, Highness?"
"No, I can manage." The music room wasn't far; she could find it on her own. Once the Baroness was gone, Emma moved that way. She heard a piano playing a soft melancholy melody. Emma knocked before entering. "Victoria?"
The music stopped. "Emma!" The younger woman practically jumped up, the frown between her brows falling away. "I was so worried."
"Sorry. I, uh…" Lying to the Baroness was one thing, lying to her friend was something else. "Um, Killian and I…" No, don't mention Killian!
But Victoria relaxed. "Oh, of course! How selfish of me to keep you from your husband, Emma."
Emma bit on her cheek; Victoria could have no idea what Emma and Killian had truly been up to just now. "No, no, it's fine."
"It has been such a joy, these last few evenings. I was just telling Lord M that before he had to go back to the House."
"Is everything alright?"
Victoria's face fell. "I'm not sure. One moment he is the most wonderful and the next…I do believe my poor Lord M is at war with himself."
For someone as young as Victoria, she was very astute. "Do you want to talk about it? If you don't mind the observation, he seems very attached to you."
Victoria took her hands and guided them both to the nearest couch. The Queen of England seemed almost…shy. She looked to Emma with such hope, like she could finally unburden herself. "Lord M has been my most faithful friend since I became Queen. I am quite certain I could not do it without him."
Emma tilted her head. "Oh, I don't know about that. The way you handled your uncle? Very queenly."
Victoria looked sad. "Mama believes I have wronged him."
Emma scoffed. "Victoria, he's trying to convince you to marry someone he chose for you. That's not right. You deserve someone who will make you happy."
"Like you and the Captain?"
Emma blushed. "Yeah. Victoria, he's not royalty. I wouldn't want him to be. I want him to be Killian. We love each other, flaws and all."
"He's very good to you."
"I hope I am to him too."
"You wouldn't doubt that if you saw the way he looks at you when you can't see. He adores you."
"I'll bet Lord Melbourne feels the same way about you." Emma looked thoughtful. "Do you want to marry him?"
Victoria nodded. Goodness, it was such a relief to let someone know her secret! She loved Lord M and wanted everyone to know! But he'd made her promise to be discreet. Until the time was right. She clung to that even though she suspected he was still trying to be careful with her heart. Why couldn't he allow himself to be happy? No one deserved happiness more than her Lord M. "Very much. But he believes it will cause a scandal. But I don't care!"
Emma tried to remember some of the things Killian had told her about the English succession. Would Victoria marrying Melbourne truly be such a bad thing? The history of it all gave her pause, but this was some parallel world, right? Perhaps Victoria could have what she wanted here and not ruin the history Emma knew.
Or not. She had no idea what would happen. But Emma did know how it felt to feel like you were losing the one you loved. She'd almost lost Killian more times than she could count. It was obvious to her that Victoria and Lord Melbourne loved each other deeply. "Why would it cause a scandal?"
Victoria blushed. "He does not wish to tarnish me with his past. His first wife was…" She paused, grasping for the right word. "Untrue. But I would never do that!"
Okay, Emma hasn't expected that. "I'm sure you wouldn't. But that's not the whole story?"
Victoria shook her head. Her lack of knowledge gnawed at her. Both of the world and of her beloved Lord M. "Lehzen called him disreputable the very first time he came to Kensington for an audience. I didn't know what that meant, I still don't. He's never claimed to be perfect, but he's such a good kind man!"
Emma smiled. Victoria was clearly besotted. "Handsome too."
Victoria blushed an even deeper red. "Yes, he is!" This was what she needed! Someone to unburden herself to, someone who understood and had no reason to want to placate her. Emma was a true friend. "Is it so very obvious?"
"You light up when he enters a room. Your eyes are always looking for him." Emma could speak from experience, because she was drawn to Killian like a moth to a flame.
"I try not to. Lord M…" Victoria wrung her hands together. "He's been counseling patience. And I understand why. But I am so very impatient!" Their little interlude in the forest kept her up at night. Whenever she thought about his hands on her, she grew warm all over with a dreadful ache between her thighs. In the dark privacy of her bed, she'd begun to explore her body, wishing it was Lord M instead. She wanted him so badly.
"So, what's the real obstacle?"
Victoria wished Lord M was here. He was so much better at explaining these things. But Victoria explained the history of her family as best she could. It was such a sad tale; everyone seemed so unhappy.
There were so many Georges and Adelaides and Victorias and Williams, Emma's head was spinning. "Okay, wait. Let me see if I got this straight. Your grandfather had Parliament make a law that said unless his family married people he approved of they would be kicked out of the succession? This is the grandfather who was mad, right?"
"The law was established in 1772, but essentially yes."
"Why would he do that?"
Victoria shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. He died not long after I was born."
"Does the law say you have to marry a prince?"
Victoria's eyes widened. "Not as far as I know. I had to become very well acquainted with it during my lessons with Lehzen." Indeed, they spent more time on that than on the English Constitution! Now that Victoria was Queen, she wished it had been the other way around. She still felt out of her depth. "But whoever I marry must be a Protestant, unattached, and approved by the Sovereign."
Emma's face lit up. "Victoria, you're the Sovereign. The only person who has to approve is you."
"But the Privy Council…" Now she was beginning to understand why Lord M preached caution. Her head hurt, just thinking about it.
"If there's no legal or religious barrier, then they can't really stop you."
"Lord M thinks his status as a Whig will hurt the Crown. But I try very hard to be impartial!" She didn't always succeed, but that was hardly Lord M's fault. "He's already said he'd have to resign as my Prime Minister."
"Looks like he's covered all the angles."
"He's very wise."
"Victoria, if he feels as deeply as you do, then you'll find a way to be together. True Love always does." If only Snow White could hear her now!
"I pray you are right, Emma. All I want in this world is to be his wife."
Emma smiled. "I know exactly how that feels." She covered her friend's hand with hers, hoping she wasn't overstepping. But Victoria's smile was warm and friendly. "If there's anything I can do…just ask, okay?"
"Thank you." Victoria couldn't describe how it felt to have someone around her finally understand how she felt and did not judge her for it. If Emma could be happy with her captain, then there was hope. All Victoria needed was some hope.
"Captain Jones!"
Killian spun around, surprised. "Lord Melbourne! I didn't see you there."
Melbourne chuckled. "I was on my way out, Captain. I've just come from the Queen."
"How is Her Majesty?"
"Well. I expect you'll see her again before I do."
"Aye, Emma and Her Majesty have become quite good friends. But you'll be joining us for dinner this evening?"
"If my duties allow." He knew Albert and his brother were due to arrive any day now; he'd been greedy these last few days, spending late nights at the palace, soaking up Victoria's warmth and her smiles. He'd been careful not to be alone with her outside of their normal daily audiences. It was too big a risk. Those audiences were a new kind of torture, now that he had a small taste of her. It was madness. He was mad. He had to be to even consider that he might actually get what he yearned for. He was too old, too jaded.
But somehow, she made him believe in hope.
Killian saw the shadow pass behind the other man's eyes. Emma thought something was going on between Victoria and her Prime Minister; Killian knew a conflicted man when he saw one. Melbourne adored his Queen, that much was clear. "Your presence would be very welcome, my Lord."
Melbourne considered the other man. He quite liked the captain. "My friends call me William."
Killian held out his hand. "Killian."
Melbourne accepted the hand, shaking firmly. "I will make every effort to attend. We have a discussion about Trafalgar to finish, do we not?"
"Aye, we do." Killian watched as the other man departed, thinking. Melbourne reminded him a bit of himself, during those lonely days when he pined for Emma. Now she was his wife and they were happy. They shared a slightly jaded view of the world, brightened by the women they loved. He didn't know much about this Albert bloke, but he had a feeling he couldn't love Victoria half as well the man who'd just left.
There had to be something they could do. In the meantime, he had some research to do.
"These flowers are lovely."
Victoria beamed. "Lord M sends them from Brocket Hall." She gently touched the row of gardenias in her hair; they had quickly become her favorite. "Very difficult to grow, or so I'm told."
"Killian's not much of a gardener." Emma took a sip of her drink. "But we do like to do sailing on his ship."
"He has his own ship?"
"Don't you have a whole navy at your disposal?"
Victoria laughed. "Yes, I suppose I do. You like that? Going sailing?"
Emma nodded. "It's nice to get away from our regular lives for a while. And he loves it. The sea's in his blood."
"And perhaps your children's one day as well?"
Emma thought about Henry, how much he loved sailing with Killian. Yeah, she hoped their kids loved it just as much. "One day. We haven't been married that long really. I kinda want to be selfish for a little bit longer." She definitely didn't want to get into the whole trying to get pregnant thing before she talked to Henry. She remembered all too well her own shock when she found out her parents were having another kid. She didn't want to put Henry through that.
Victoria stepped closer, glancing left and right before she spoke again. "Emma, how does one go about being 'selfish'?"
Oh god. They'd started this conversation a few days ago; thankfully for Emma, they'd been interrupted. But Victoria was a determined woman, if young and inexperienced. Emma did not think she should be the one giving the Queen of England sex advice, but she didn't know how to deflect gracefully. "Um…" Emma herself had modern birth control, a small implant in her arm. However, there was no way to explain that. "There are a lot of ways. Don't you want children?"
"I know it's my duty," Victoria replied. "But I don't know how I feel about…babies? Or childbirth. I must sound like a horrible person."
"No, you don't." She guided them over to a window seat. "Kids are scary." Discovering she was pregnant had been the most frightening moment of her life. When Henry was born, Emma knew she was in no place to take care of him. Not that she could tell Victoria that. She was posing as a newlywed, not a woman with a teenage son. "As well as messy and hard work. I don't blame you at all for wanting to wait."
"Truly?"
"Yeah." She loved Henry so much, but she wouldn't wish young motherhood on anyone. No one should carry such a burden that young. Victoria was vibrant and alive; she deserved some time to herself before raising a gaggle of kids. "I don't know how helpful I can be though."
"Anything would be most appreciated."
That was how she and the Queen of England passed the time after dinner, whispering about sex. It was awkward as hell at first, but Victoria was so earnest, Emma couldn't help but relax. By the time the men returned, they were giggling like schoolgirls, with Victoria blushing furiously.
"What are you two up to?" Killian asked, striding up to his wife and kissing her temple.
"Nothing," they said together. Victoria saw Lord M hanging back, his lips curved in a half smile. She knew it was for her. How she longed for him to walk up to her and kiss her the way Killian did with Emma! They were so open with their affection; Victoria was deeply envious. It was the kind of thing she longed for in her own life. One day, she promised herself silently. One day he would be hers.
"Drina, would you play for us?"
Victoria was drawn from her thoughts by her mother. She was still angry, but this was not the place to show it. Every day since she banished Leopold, her mother harangued her about the injustice of it, that her uncle only had her best interests at heart. Victoria refused to listen. How could anyone who claimed to love her betray her so? She knew her uncle was still in the country, staying at a home he'd long rented in London. With Albert on the way, it seemed he was foolish enough to think he might still win. But he underestimated Victoria. The only man she intended to marry was Lord M.
Her composure was a weapon she intended to wield effectively.
"Yes, Mama, I believe I will." There was a smattering of applause as she moved to her piano; she caught Lord M staring at her intently from across the room. A pleasant shiver went down her spine as she sat before the instrument. He was so far away from her, but she could almost feel his breath on her neck. She recalled vividly the last time he kissed her, that night in the ballroom. She wanted to feel that way again.
Melbourne stayed back, content to watch his Queen from a far. As much as he'd enjoyed debating with his new friend Killian, he couldn't deny that he'd been itching to get back to her. Dinner was another excruciating experience with the Duchess of Kent spending the majority of it glaring daggers at him. She clearly blamed him for her brother's current difficulties. Which was far from the truth. Leopold dug that particular grave all on his own.
The Duchess should know better than to underestimate her daughter.
Melbourne was very proud of how she'd handled the situation. She was decisive and forthright, very queenly. And he fell a little bit more in love with her.
The strains of Mozart filled the air and Melbourne had to struggle not to smile. He knew it was for him. Just as he brought her flowers, she gave him the gift of music. Their unspoken way of reminding each other how deeply they felt.
Victoria knew the piece by heart; it was one of her favorites. She thought she flubbed one or two measures, but overall, she felt like she did well. She smiled happily as applause broke out once more, but there was only one person whose opinion mattered. Her eyes sought his, the green bright and happy. Lord M applauded with the rest, gracing her with the proud soft smile he saved just for her. She nodded in acknowledgement, then returned to the instrument.
Feeling lighter than air, Victoria launched into a Chopin piece that she was fond of. It was difficult, fast paced and fluid; she relished the chance to show off, just a little. She knew much of it, only needing the sheet music occasionally. It felt good to lose herself in the music, not worry about her mother or her uncle or anything that threatened her happiness. All that mattered was the love she had for her Lord M.
Emma leaned against her husband's shoulder, letting herself relax. She had no idea what Victoria was playing but it sounded good to her. She suspected Killian would know. She'd caught him enjoying classical music on his phone. She wondered if it reminded him of where he'd come from. He knew his share of rowdy drinking songs and sea shanties, but he was refined in a way she envied. He fit in here; she didn't, no matter what he said.
There was a commotion in the hall. Everyone but Victoria seemed to notice. Emma heard men coming. Even Victoria's dog, Dash, perked up. She turned and saw a pair of men enter the room. The Duchess of Kent was the first to stand, curtseying deeply, a smirking smile on her lips. Others hurried to follow suit, all aside from Emma and Killian. She had no idea who the hell they were.
The taller of the two men strode directly for Victoria, still playing at the piano. She was focused on the music, blocking out everything else. Emma's instinct was to rush forward, protect her from the stranger, but Killian held her back.
The man was handsome, sort of. He had brown hair with a matching mustache. He looked like he was about Victoria's age. Before Emma could call out a warning, the man reached out and turned the page for the piece Victoria was playing. It took her a moment to notice and when she did, the music stopped abruptly.
Who had the gall to interrupt her? Victoria looked up and saw a face she hadn't seen in years. Older now, with a ridiculous mustache, but it was him. "Albert."
"Cousin Victoria. I see your playing has improved."
Her hackles rose. How dare he! Victoria stood abruptly; Dash started to bark. She ducked down to pick up him, holding the dog between herself and Albert. "Calm down, Dash. It's only Cousin Albert."
"I am sorry if your dog does not remember me."
"Dash was only being protective, weren't you, Dash?" She kissed the dog's soft fur. Inwardly, she was fuming; she never wanted Albert to come. She'd secretly hoped that their uncle's disgrace would convince he and Ernest to stay away. Clearly, she'd been wrong.
"Drina," her mother said, pushing forward to her nephew's side. "You're being rude to your guests."
"Mama, it's clear that no one around here adheres to my wishes," Victoria snapped.
"Cousin Victoria!" Ernest hurried forward and bent to kiss her hand. "How lovely you look this evening."
She couldn't help but smile. Ernest, at least, was a gentleman. "Thank you, Ernest. It is good to see you again."
"It had been too long, Cousin. I hope we are not intruding?"
They were, but they were still her family. She did not have the heart to kick them out when they just arrived. Perhaps they were not privy to their uncle's schemes. It would not due to punish them for the sins of others. "No, not at all. You are welcome to stay with us."
"I must admit to being excited for this visit, Cousin," Ernest said, filling the silence. Why didn't Albert speak up? Must he do everything himself? "We will surely be quite the tourists! Won't we, brother?"
"That's Albert?" Emma hissed to her husband.
He nodded. "Aye. I've seen photographs of him. Older, of course."
"He seems so…stiff."
"He's certainly not very wise in the ways of women." Albert hung back awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable.
"Do you think he's in on the marry Victoria plan?"
Killian nodded again. "He's not a fool, Swan. He comes from a tiny principality, a poor one at that. Marrying the Queen of England is the best way to secure his future."
"And what about Victoria's happiness? Does no one care about that?"
"Someone does, Swan." He nodded toward the corner where Melbourne stood. He pretended to be disinterested but Killian knew better. He knew exactly how the other man felt. He'd felt the same way when he'd watched Emma with Neal in Neverland. Never had she felt so far away from him.
Albert was saying something about old masters and visiting museums, but Victoria wasn't paying attention. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye; Lord M was leaving! No! "Excuse me," she muttered hastily, dropping Dash. Her dog ran off, Victoria apparently on his heels. Her mother called after her, but Victoria ignored her. She spotted Lord M turning the corner at the end of the hall. Victoria picked up her skirts and ran after him. She couldn't let him leave, not until she spoke to him, dignity be damned.
"Lord M!"
Melbourne heard her call. He almost didn't stop. Everything in him demanded he stop. She was his darling girl; he was consumed by her. But seeing Albert seemed to break something inside him. He couldn't stand there and smile, watch her fall in love with someone else. Deep down, he knew Albert was better for her; young and handsome, no whiff of scandal, royal. He was everything Victoria deserved.
And yet she was chasing after him.
Victoria stared up at him with anguished blue eyes. "Were you going to leave without saying goodnight?" Goodnight and not goodbye. It was exquisite torture, her hope.
"I didn't want to intrude, Ma'am."
"It was just Cousin Albert."
"Yes, Albert."
Victoria tilted her head, a frown appearing between her brows. "You know how I feel about him, Lord M."
"You hardly know him, Ma'am."
Boldly, she placed her hand on his arm. "You know how I feel about you, William."
"I am trying not to, Ma'am."
"Why?"
He looked away from her, her beautiful blue eyes reminding him of everything he could not have. "Because I'm afraid."
She blinked. Her Lord M afraid? It was difficult to wrap her mind around. "Please don't be afraid, Lord M."
He smiled ruefully. "You have courage for both of us, Victoria."
"I will gladly share it." She smiled, her gaze drinking him in. He was so handsome, even in this quiet moment, her heart raced. How could she prove that he was the only man she wanted? That she cared naught for the obstacles in their way? "Kiss me?"
If only it were so easy. Her request was simple enough, the memory of her kiss haunting his dreams. Watching Killian claim his wife's affections so openly in company made him more than a little jealous. How he yearned to do the same, show everyone that she loved him and only him!
He'd already cross so many lines for her. Melbourne looked down at her earnest upturned face, those eyes filled with love and longing. All for him. How could he deny her? "Not here," he whispered urgently.
Victoria was about to protest when he took her hand forcefully. A thrill of excitement shot up her spine as he guided them to a darkened room, ushering her through the door. The moment it closed he pressed her against it, finding her mouth in the darkness. She tasted sweet, like the wine they'd had at dinner. This was nothing like those first kisses; this was knowing and hungry, her tongue moving eagerly against his. His chest swelled, knowing he'd done this to her. He brought out the passionate woman within the gilded monarch.
Victoria's fingers curled tightly in his waistcoat, her knees weakening with every slide of his tongue and lips. Warmth flooded her, the now familiar ache built in her core. "Lord M," she breathed, her head falling against the door.
"William," he reminded her. "As much as I enjoy your little pet name, sweetheart, my name is William."
"William," she agreed. She smiled up at him, even though he couldn't see her. It was so dark, but that simply made things more exciting. She sighed into his kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck.
"My sweet Victoria." He let his lips ghost over her slim throat, inhaling her unique scent. How many times had he imagined her in his bed? How many times had he touched himself to images of her? It was unlike anything he'd experienced before, the way he burned for her.
She loved the way he loomed over her, his height never making her feel small or inferior. No, it called to something within her, something she didn't understand. But she needed this, needed him. No one else could ever make her feel this way. "More," she whined. She missed his touch, the incredible way he made her feel. She wanted to feel that way again.
"We can't." He wanted nothing more than to make love to her, spend all night bringing her pleasure, but he could not. She was his Queen and he was not her husband.
"Please," she pleaded, staring up at him with huge eyes. He could just make out the whites in the darkness. "Like that day in the forest. Please, William."
The way she said his name should be illegal. He didn't have the strength to deny her. Not anymore. He might only have a few of these moments left; they would keep him warm during the long lonely nights without her. "Come." He took her hand and guided them to a couch, bumping into some other furniture on the way. "You must be quiet," he warned.
She would do anything he asked; she craved his touch. With him, she was a desirable woman, not the Queen. He was not after her power; he wanted her. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. He held her hands tightly as he dropped her into the seat. She stared at him with wide eyes; his silhouette knelt before her. "William?"
"Shhh." Melbourne dared to slide his hands under the hem of her gown, waiting for her to come to her senses and stop him. He felt her shiver, as he delicately stroked her over her stockings. He found a sensitive spot behind her knee; Victoria let out a strangled sound of pleasure. Melbourne inhaled deeply; she was so responsive, he ached for her. "Tell me to stop, Victoria."
Once again, she shook her head. She needed this. "No, William. Never stop." She leaned forward and ran her fingers through her lover's hair, hoping she wasn't making a fool of herself. His soft groan of pleasure was music to her ears.
Melbourne leaned forward and kissed the swells of her breasts, held in place by the stiff corset. He could hear her heart racing, her breathing hitch. "You have no idea how badly I want you."
"Oh god." She fell back against the couch, trying to make sense of the feelings he stirred in her. She felt Lord M pushing up her skirts; she instinctively inched forward, sighing as his lips touched her skin. Victoria followed the dictates of her body, eager for more of the delicious sensations he drew from her. Was this some of the things Emma had told her about? Their talk was as fascinating as it had been embarrassing; Victoria hated when she didn't understand things. Emma was a godsend; she didn't want Lord M to think of her as a little girl, not when he was such a man of the world.
He couldn't believe he was doing this. On his knees in a darkened room, kneeling between the pale lovely thighs of the woman he loved. His monarch, his Queen. It was impossible and wonderful and terrifying all at once. She smelled divine, heady and sweet, her skin soft and supple. He wanted to taste her, make her quiver with need. He still expected her to stop him at any moment. He pressed her thighs wider apart, dipping his fingers into her the slit of her drawers. She was slick and hot; his cock twitched in response. He wanted her with a need that bordered on madness, but he had to restrain himself. For her sake. That was one risk he would not take, not unless he could call her his own.
And that was the slimmest of possibilities.
She felt like she was drowning. His touch was soft, exploring her, petting her aching flesh. She writhed and squirmed, hungry for more. "William," she gasped. "Please."
Melbourne let go of his hesitation. He could not deny them something they both needed so badly. He spread the material of her drawers, blowing warm air on her delicate flesh. Victoria whined, trying to heed his warning about keeping quiet. This was so forbidden; she couldn't make herself stop. She loved him, she wanted him with her always. Her skirts blocked the dim view; all she could do was feel. Warmth touched her swollen flesh; Victoria jumped.
"Steady, darling girl," he whispered. "I've got you."
She relaxed a bit, biting on her lip to keep from crying out. She quickly realized he was caressing her most secret flesh with his tongue and lips; her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Nothing—not even her secret talk with Emma—could have prepared her for the heat that flowed through her. She moved without thinking, seeking more friction, more of his attentions. He circled her sensitive nub, over and over and over; Victoria tightened her grip on her gown, struggling to keep quiet. Pressure like she'd never experienced built in her belly, her whole body quivering.
He was already addicted. Sweet did not begin to describe her exquisite taste. He lapped at her nectar, his thumb stroking her clit. She shook, her legs collapsing against his head, her body rapidly falling out of her control. He could sense she was close. Melbourne pressed two fingers into her heat, curling them to find the spot that would send her over the edge.
Victoria gasped, belatedly covering her mouth as she gave into the extraordinary high. She felt like she was flying, his touch unceasing, stroking her ever higher. Stars popped behind her eyes, blood rushed in her ears. She never wanted this feeling to end.
Melbourne brought her down slowly, reluctant to stop touching her. He may never have this chance again. Her breath came in harsh pants, her thighs shook. When she finally went still, he extracted his hand and licked his fingers clean, savoring the taste of her. He pressed a tender kiss to her thigh, then backed up. It hurt, his pants painfully tight, but he didn't dare see to his own needs. She was far more important.
Gradually, Victoria came back to herself. Lord M lowered her skirts; instantly she felt bereft. Lips touched the back on her hand, the tender kiss of a lover, not the formal kiss of a politician. "My darling girl."
She curled into him, craving his warmth. "Hmmm."
It was torture. He wanted her, but he still wasn't good for her. Yet he didn't know what else to do. She seemed determined. Just in the last hour, she spurned a handsome young man to chase after him, eager for his touch, his kiss. She was begging him to fight for her. How could he deny her? If there was a way, he would find it. He could do no less for his darling girl.
They remained in the darkness as long as Melbourne dared. Stealing these moments was dangerous. At length, he coaxed her up. "Ma'am, you must return. You will be missed."
"I excused myself, Lord M," she said. "They will no doubt believe I have retired."
"Still, you must leave. The palace has too many eyes. It is not safe for you."
"It would be if we…"
He placed a finger to her lips. "Not yet, Victoria."
"But…"
"Your cousin just arrived."
"I don't want Albert!" She sounded almost hysterical, something she hated. How could she make him see that he was the only man she wanted? "I want you!"
"We must be patient. We must win people over."
"But there's no impediment to our marriage," she argued quietly. "You are not Catholic, you are unmarried, and I am the sovereign."
"And yet, I am merely a minor noble."
"I don't care."
"You may not, but others do. The opposition already fears my influence over you."
"They think me incapable of making up my own mind," she said bitterly.
"They do not know you as I do. They must get to know that Victoria. Only then will there be a chance of achieving what you desire."
"I have never been very patient," she admitted.
He smiled down at her. "I know, Ma'am. But you have courage in spades. I have faith in you."
She breathed deeply. She had to be strong. For both of them. It was the only way to achieve her goal. She sighed as his lips touched hers one last time. Neither knew when they could share this kind of intimacy again. It was an unspoken fear. Her mother would undoubtedly be pushing her toward Albert, but she would not be swayed. She knew what she wanted, and she was determined to get it.
Melbourne watched her disappear from the room, her skirts swishing. He waited for ten long minutes before leaving himself, going in the opposite direction. He took his carriage back to Dover House, finally allowing himself a kernel of hope.
She was going to go mad. It was only a few days into her cousins' visit, yet Victoria could hardly find a moment to herself. Her mother spent almost every minute trying to persuade her to spend time with Albert. Victoria managed to beg off, citing her duties, but she knew her mother would not give up. It was most upsetting, because she could not shake the feeling that her mother did not truly believe she was up to the task of being Queen. Why else would she keep trying to marry her off and extol the virtues of motherhood? Victoria was deeply fearful of pregnancy, all too aware of what happened to her cousin Charlotte.
Only Emma seemed to understand. Whenever she was forced to spend time with her cousin, Victoria made sure Emma and her husband were somewhere in the room. It was probably unfair of her to expect her friend to act as a buffer, but she could hardly stand Albert's presence for more than a few minutes. He was maddening! He didn't play cards; he was constantly critical of everything she did. He was not charming at all!
How could her uncle believe that this boy could make her happy? Victoria craved affection, amusing and witty company, passion. There did not seem to be a passionate bone in Albert's body. All he talked of was art and science, topics that did not interest her in the slightest. The only thing they seemed to have in common was music, yet even there, he could not bring himself to be anything but a bore. He critiqued her playing, her taste in pieces; he even announced to all that would listen that she would not truly play well unless she practiced more!
She was the Queen of England; she did not have time to do scales every day!
Oh, she hated him!
She longed for Lord M. She only saw him during their audiences and other official functions. He seemed to be avoiding her. She missed him fiercely. She suspected his motives; he was always looking out for her interests. Everyone around her expected her to fall into the arms of the young handsome prince. They were mistaken. Victoria was polite, formal when forced to be in Albert's company. Albert, for his part, did not seem to be trying very hard to win her over. Perhaps he could not. He didn't seem very comfortable in the presence of women. He was the complete opposite of Ernest, who spent most of his time flirting with her ladies!
Victoria balled her fist, frustration bubbling up in her. She was alone for the moment, blissfully alone. She was due to return to the throne room soon, the formal presentation of some ambassador or other.
Lord M would be there.
A knock startled her. "Enter."
She half hoped it would be Lord M, but it was Emma who entered. "Victoria? Is everything okay?"
Victoria sagged into the window seat; it looked out over the park. It only made her miss Lord M all over again. "I needed a few moments alone."
"Oh, sorry. I can go."
"No, stay. I am afraid you are the only one I can talk to lately."
Emma sat beside her, concerned about her friend. Victoria seemed sad and withdrawn since Albert's arrival. All they did was bicker; Albert was frequently rude. Emma didn't like him one bit. He acted superior, treated Victoria like she was stupid. Emma had almost given him a piece of her mind a couple of times, but Killian stopped her, pointing out that Victoria had to fight this battle on her own. All she could do was support her friend as best she could. "Things have been kinda intense around here lately," she said carefully.
"Emma, I feel I must apologize to you. I'm afraid I've been abusing your friendship."
"Hey, I know what it's like for people to expect more from you than you feel like you can give." She never wanted to be a Savior or a hero or anything like that. Often since coming to Storybrooke, Emma felt like the pressure was too much. In her darkest days, she believed she wouldn't get a happy ending. Now she was married to her True Love, had her son and her parents and a home.
"I love him," Victoria said softly. "And I miss him so much. It must sound silly; I see him every day. But it's not the same."
Emma squeezed her hand. "Hey, I get it." She didn't know just how intimate the Queen and her Prime Minister had become, but she knew that the kind of emotional intimacy they shared could not be replaced. Emma herself relied on Killian as her closest friend long before they became lovers. She suspected it was the same for Victoria and Melbourne. "Would it make you feel better to know he's here?"
"He is?"
"Yeah, he arrived a few minutes ago. If you want, I can cover so you can have a minute."
"Emma, I would be most grateful. Thank you!"
Emma smiled, pleased to see her friend happy. "You're welcome."
"We must have a dance this evening," Victoria gushed. "I insist."
"Okay. Killian will be thrilled."
"You don't like to dance?"
Emma blushed. "I do, but don't tell Killian. I like when he teases me about it."
"Your secret is safe with me." The women hugged and departed. Emma let her know where Lord M was waiting for her, before disappearing to head off anyone who happened by. Victoria found him on the balcony, looking out over the city. Victoria admired her beloved's handsome profile, drinking him in like she hadn't seen him in weeks.
Melbourne knew the moment she stepped into the room. He was always attuned to her. Still, he could not bring himself to turn and face her. He needed to be strong. He knew he was weak when it came to her. This was a delicate time; he could not be seen as imposing himself while Albert attempted to woo her. He knew what Victoria's feelings and intentions were; the public at large did not. They already mocked her as Mrs. Melbourne; he refused to give them any more ammunition to use against her. They had been reckless enough already.
Victoria approached slowly, the sun warming her skin. It was starting to become chilly, fall well and truly settling in. Yet it did not touch her. Neither spoke; they did not need to. Victoria reached out, sliding her hand over his where it rested on the railing. He glanced down at her hand, swallowing as he tightened his fingers around her smaller ones. It was a relatively innocent touch, but it warmed his weary soul. I'm here, it said. I'm not going anywhere.
Melbourne turned her hand over and threaded their fingers together. Victoria looked at him intently as he brought her hand to his lips, branding her with his touch. I'm here too, it said. I miss you.
"I've decided to host a small dance this evening," she said quietly, breaking the silence.
"For the princes?"
"For my friends," she corrected. "As my friend…"
"I will gladly attend, Ma'am." His response was a tad quick, but he would not take the words back. As long as he avoided being alone with her, everything would be fine.
"I look forward to it." Melbourne again watched her leave, her head held high like the Queen she was. He followed not long after, his presence required for the ceremony. But his mind was not engaged. He was mentally going through his flowers at Brocket Hall. He might not be able to declare himself openly, but he could show his intentions through a language only they understood.
Yes, gardenias would do nicely.
Victoria held the flower to her nose, inhaling its fragrant scent. Lord M always sent her the most splendid flowers. She tucked it into the bosom of her dress, then admired herself in the mirror.
"Very beautiful, Ma'am," Skerrett said.
"I hope so."
"Everyone's eyes will be drawn to you."
There was only one pair of eyes she wanted on her. She swept from her apartment to join her guests. Since this was a private party, there was not as much formality as a court function. Her mother was there already, talking with Cousin Albert. Ernest was in deep conversation with Harriet. Emma and Killian were there as well, laughing quietly together. Her eyes sought her love. Lord M remained in the far corner, speaking softly with Lady Portman. An unfamiliar emotion curled in her belly. Did he need to stand so close to her? His face lit up as she entered; Victoria suppressed a smile. Relief washed through her, but it would not do to be so obvious. Her guests bowed and curtseyed as she moved to greet each one; it was the happiest she'd felt in days.
Emma watched her friend move about the room, interacting with her guests. She spent time with everyone; although Emma could not help but notice that she gave Albert little more than a perfunctory hello. The Duchess tried to keep her daughter engaged, but Victoria simply moved on. Emma thought the Queen was doing a good job of keeping her attention off the most important person in the room, though she knew how much it meant that Melbourne chose to attend.
"Victoria looks much happier than before," Killian observed.
Emma looked at him, feeling slightly guilty. "I, uh, may have given them a moment earlier today."
Killian looked surprised. "Did you now?"
"Yeah. Anything's better than spending time with Captain Cardboard over there."
Killian suppressed a grin. His Swan certainly had a way with words. "The Prince is a bit…intense," he conceded.
"Boring and chauvinistic," Emma corrected. "Who the hell does he think he is?"
"Swan, you know this world is not as…enlightened as the one we come from."
"Or the one you come from," Emma teased.
"Oi!"
"I'm just teasing, babe." She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. "You were an equal opportunity pirate."
Killian feigned offense, clenching and unclenching his jaw. Emma toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Perhaps later you could remind me," she whispered in his ear. Killian smirked at her, all too eager for her challenge. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her deeply, ignoring everyone else. Part of him wanted to march them back to their suite, but the wait would be half the fun. A small string band played in the corner; people were slowly beginning to dance. Ernest twirled the Duchess of Sutherland across the floor; Killian saw no reason not to join them. He bowed slightly before his wife and held out his hand. "Shall we, love?"
Emma nodded. "Um, yeah. Why not?"
He beamed as he led her out; she was beautiful in a deep purple dress. Their very first dance had been a waltz, just like this. They fell into step easily; as always, she was a natural. She looked every inch the princess, with a tiara in her hair and diamonds around her throat. She was the greatest treasure he'd found in any realm, with or without her borrowed jewels and gown. His Swan. His love. His wife.
Victoria smiled to herself as she watched her friends enjoy themselves. She was so grateful to Emma for her support and advice. Occasionally, she let her gaze drift to Lord M, wondering if he would ask her to dance. Victoria loved dancing; he was the greatest partner she'd ever had. Propriety kept her from asking him to dance; she would simply have to be patient.
He was worth it.
"That is a lovely flower."
Victoria took a breath to steady herself. Mama probably put Albert up to it. It would not do to be rude; he was still family. Perhaps he was only trying to be polite. "Thank you, Albert."
"Such flowers are not typical this time of year, I don't think?"
"No, they are not. It was a gift."
Albert shifted awkwardly, clearly at a loss. "It is quite an extraordinary gift," he observed.
"From an extraordinary person," Victoria replied, unable to keep the smile from her lips.
Albert saw her gaze drift once again toward Melbourne. What hold did the old man have over his young impressionable cousin? He was beginning to see what uncle Leopold had warned him about. He did not know how to court a lady, but he knew his duty. Victoria liked to dance, perhaps he could try that. Albert cleared his throat. "Might I…"
Melbourne appeared at her side. "I believe I was promised a dance, Ma'am?"
Victoria struggled not to let her relief show. She made a show of checking her card, then nodded. "Why, yes, Lord M, I believe you do." She accepted his hand and relaxed as he led her out onto the floor. She fit perfectly in his arms, his hand warm at her back. "Thank you for the flowers. They are beautiful as always."
"You are quite welcome, Ma'am. The glass houses at Brocket Hall are always at your service."
They gazed into each other's eyes, green on blue, oblivious to all else. Neither noticed the jilted prince brooding in the corner, his future slipping away right before his eyes. Something had to be done.