"William."
"Emma." He turned around at the sound of Emma Portman's voice, but his pleasant little smile disappeared when he saw the look of concern upon her face. She approached him and looked around, ensuring the corridor was empty, and she said gently,
"William, you have long been a good friend to my husband and to myself. You know I would not broach this at all unless I were genuinely worried for you."
Melbourne frowned and shifted on his feet. "What's the matter, Emma?"
Her eyes warmed and then went sad. "The way you were looking at her, William, and the way she was looking back. For nearly the entire meal, you stared at one another. You talked almost exclusively to one another. I noticed. Everyone noticed. Everyone saw the same thing I did, William."
He scoffed a little, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden, and he said carefully, "I certainly meant no impropriety."
"But it was there just the same, I think." Emma sighed and shook her head. "Believe me. I have seen the way she pines for you when you're a few hours later to the palace than expected. But you must quash this before it goes anywhere, for both your sakes. You have endured more than enough scandal, William, and she is the Queen."
"So she is, and she is waiting for me," Melbourne said, glancing rather anxiously over his shoulder. He nodded and said more genuinely, "Thank you, Emma. I shall be... more cautious."
"Goodnight, William." She gave him a sad little smile and turned to go, probably off to join her husband, who had been invited to dinner tonight. Melbourne adjusted his coat and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall, thinking again that he was much too old to be chasing after his lovely young queen. But he walked just the same to the drawing room where he knew she was waiting for him. He shooed the steward aside at the door and let himself in, and Victoria looked up from the easel she'd been setting up. She smiled and held her hand out, and Melbourne dipped to a knee and kissed her glove.
"I will do much better this time, Lord M. I promise." She looked very playful then as she sank into her wicker chair and pulled off her gloves. They'd agreed at dinner that she would try again to draw him, having been frustrated by her last effort. Now Melbourne sat on the divan and decided that he wasn't going to let Emma Portman or anyone else ruin this - these times he had alone with her. He would be more judicious when they were in the presence of others, but here he would not stifle the happiness he found in her company.
"I shall sit very still for you, Ma'am," he teased her. "How about I sit like this so that it's more dramatic and dignified?"
He turned his head to the side and tipped his chin up imperiously, and he couldn't help cracking a smile as Victoria giggled beside him.
"But I'm even worse at profiles than at faces straight on," she complained.
"It would seem, then, that you need more practise," he said, and he tipped his chin up a little more.
"Oh, very well. Let it be your neck to be sore, then."
He watched out of the corner of his eye as Victoria picked up her pencil and studied the shape of him. She still had on a diamond tiara, the one she'd worn to dinner, and it glittered in the candlelight. Melbourne turned his eyes back to the wall, wondering if the two of them were simply going to pretend he hadn't kissed her earlier. For now, she seemed very happy, and he felt happy, so he just waited as she drew.
"I feel as though I'm drawing a Roman Emperor," Victoria mused, and Melbourne laughed a little.
"I would have done a terrible job administering Rome," he said. "Would have been worse than Nero."
"You do a fine job administering England," she said, and he flicked his eyes to her.
"No, Ma'am. That's your job."
"It is both of us, isn't it?" She paused in drawing and smiled a little at him. "And you help me so very much. I do not often enough express my gratitude for your guidance, Lord M."
She put her pencil back to the paper, and Melbourne swallowed hard. "I only hope, Ma'am, that any guidance I have given you has been to your benefit. I only wish for your success."
"I know," she said gently. He felt his heart accelerate a little then, and he licked his bottom lip as nerves began to wash over him.
"Emma Portman scolded me for staring at you during dinner," he said. "I apologise if I was obvious in turning too much of my attention toward you."
"Oh, Lord M. You could give me all of your attention and I'd still demand more." Victoria kept sketching, and Melbourne smirked.
"Stop that," she reprimanded him, and he frowned.
"Stop what, Ma'am?"
"You had your mouth all serious, and then you smiled a little, and it makes your whole face look different. You must look very solemn again, Lord M."
"Oh. Right." He steadied his mouth, resisting the urge to let the corners of his lips turn up. She made him smile; he could not help himself.
"There is a small party tomorrow," she noted. "Just a little dancing after dinner, at the request of the Grand Duke. He does so like dancing."
Melbourne felt an unexpected wrench of indignation then, and he squared his jaw as he said, "Yes. He seemed to quite like putting his hands all over you at your coronation ball, Ma'am."
"Was he as crude as I remember? I'd thought perhaps the Champagne had dulled the memory a little. He put his hands on my..."
"Yes, I saw," Melbourne said at the wall. "That's why I sent Lord Alfred to drag him away, and that's why I asked you to dance."
"I thought you asked me to dance because you wanted to dance with me," Victoria murmured as her pencil scratched on the paper. Melbourne blinked.
"Well, that too."
There was more quiet then, until finally Victoria blew on her paper and asked,
"You will be there tomorrow? For the dancing?"
"Wouldn't miss it, Ma'am," he said. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she bent over the page and seemed to do a little shading. She blew on the paper again and then set her pencil down, and she said in a voice of warning,
"If you laugh at me, I shall be incurably cross."
"Oh, you've finished, Ma'am? Good; I think my neck has a crick." He smiled warmly at her as she came to sit beside him, the paper held protectively against her chest. She pursed her lips and hesitated, and then she turned the paper round and set it on his thigh. He realised instantly that he should feel very guilty for kissing her, that he should think Emma Portman had been entirely right. But all he could focus on was the rather adorable way she'd captured the angle of his nose and botched his eyes again. He picked up the paper and said kindly,
"This is a masterpiece, Your Majesty. It belongs in a gallery."
"You are mocking me!" She swatted a little at his arm, which made him tingle oddly, and he shook his head vehemently.
"No. It's quite good, Ma'am. Particularly for an artist still perfecting her work in profiles."
"Well, I had a handsome subject." Her cheeks went a little pink then, and Melbourne found himself sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.
"May I keep it?" He glanced down to the paper in his hands, and Victoria nodded.
"Yes. Of course you can."
"But you must sign it, Ma'am," he said, reaching for her easel. He picked up her pencil and carefully put it in her hand, letting his fingers run over hers. She stared down at the pencil, or perhaps at their hands, and then she quickly signed Victoria R in the bottom right corner of the paper. She fiddled with the pencil and stared at her drawing as she asked blankly,
"Before you go, will you kiss me goodnight?"
"I should not," he said truthfully. He huffed out a breath and carefully folded the drawing, tucking it into the pocket of his coat. He met Victoria's eyes and shook his head, and he admitted, "Emma was right; I stared entirely too much at you at dinner. It was inappropriate and... rude. I'm sorry."
Victoria frowned. "You regret kissing me."
"No, Ma'am. I do not. But I meant what I said. I only wish for your success. I do not mean to become a barrier to that success."
Victoria seemed a bit sad then, and it pained him to see her earlier happiness so thoroughly dissolved. Just minutes earlier, they'd been laughing, joking with one another. Melbourne let out a frustrated sigh and reached to cradle Victoria's jaw in his hand. He could not stop himself then from leaning down and touching his lips to hers, and when she sighed against his mouth, a string inside of him snapped.
He found himself kissing her much too enthusiastically then, stroking at her cheek and intensifying the kiss until he was pulling at her lip with his teeth. She shocked him then - she moaned. She let out a real little moan of desire, and Melbourne wrenched his mouth from hers.
"Oh, I am so frustrated," she whispered breathlessly. "I quite like your kisses, Lord M, but I find myself knowing there is something else that I want. Yet, I have precisely no idea what that is."
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "And this is why... well, it is one of probably a hundred reasons why I ought not to have..."
"What is it that I am wanting, Lord M?" Victoria asked desperately. He stared into her wide blue eyes and could envision himself explaining sex to her, explaining all the things his hands and mouth and other parts would do if he were allowed. But he wasn't allowed; neither of them were. He gulped hard and said,
"Tomorrow night. Dancing. I look forward to the dancing. Will you save a place on your card for me, please?"
She nodded, her lips a little parted. "I would save you every dance if I could."
He smiled a bit and reached for her hand, bringing her knuckles up to his lips and kissing them carefully. He stared right into her eyes as he did it, and he watched her chest stop heaving for a moment as she seemed to have her breath taken away entirely.
"Goodnight, Lord M," she whispered after a very long time.
He squeezed at her fingers and nodded as he rose. "Goodnight, Ma'am."
Author's Note: The next chapter is the beautiful trope of a Vicbourne waltz, so I'm going to go ahead and give that one of the word count it deserves. Haha. In the meantime, thanks for reading and please do leave a quick message if you get a chance.