Note - I've posted two chapters at the same time, so make sure you've read Chapter 6 first.
It started almost as soon as her carriage drove away from Brocket Hall. It was familiar at first: the tightening in her head, limbs which seemed too heavy to lift, but this time it grew worse. Victoria grew unfeasibly tired, which was most likely a good thing, for she fell asleep quickly.
When she awoke, it was only with the door of her carriage being opened on arrival at the Palace.
She tried to lean forward, but her neck was so stiff she could barely move. 'Ow,' she said instinctively, and her face contorted in discomfort. She brought a hand to her head. The footman held a lantern to light her way and its brightness pained her eyes.
'Your Majesty,' came the voice of Harriet Sutherland who greeted her carriage. 'We are so very pleased to see you safely back.'
'Why would I not be safely back?' She spat the words out tersely, silencing her Lady momentarily.
With a catch in her breath, Victoria pulled her aching body from the carriage.
'Would you care for supper, Ma'am?' tried Harriet.
'No, I shall retire. Some tea, no more.'
'Very well, Ma'am.'
Victoria could no longer pretend through her sickness. By the time she reached the upper floor, a faint perspiration had beaded on her forehead and she was shivering.
'Oh, you've taken sick, Ma'am,' said Skerrett with concern, guiding her into her chamber.
'Yes, I shall go straight to bed. Lord M is coming tomorrow. I shall be better then.'
Her maid said what she thought was the sensible thing. 'Oh, I'd put him off, Ma'am. You can't be fussing over the dispatches like this. You need to recover.'
Victoria spun on her and hissed, 'I shall recover, Skerrett, do not pester me!'
Her maid's eyes widened in surprise before she hurried out, unable even to finish undressing the Queen.
Victoria fell back onto the bed with a groan. Her head throbbed horrendously and the sweat which had taken hold coming up the stairs could not be shaken. She managed to rid herself of the rest of her clothes and crawled between the covers before falling into a sleep disturbed by feverish dreams.
The next morning brought little relief and she remained in bed most of the day.
Any ailment on Her Majesty's part gave rise to great concern in the Palace. This time was no exception. Whispers started immediately, tempers flared and anxiety rose. Victoria's mother fussed, Lehzen pestered, and various Dukes and Earls paced the halls in hushed conversation.
Victoria, largely, was oblivious to this, although she did have the wherewithal to bat away the physician who approached her with leeches. She had, after all, had enough blood sucked from her for the time being.
Her fever remained through the next day and night, and the concern of everyone present was not eased. A specialist was called, the Archbishop informed, and the Prime Minister notified.
In fact, the Prime Minister called shortly after nine o'clock the next morning, at which point Her Majesty's fever left her, her headache vanished, and she was suddenly in such a buoyant mood that she trotted down the stairs to greet him, the broadest smile on her cool, smooth face.
Melbourne rose after kissing her hand and studied her closely. 'Ma'am … I was informed you were gravely ill. How good it is to see you recovered.'
Victoria smiled it off. 'Oh, I was indeed gravely ill, Lord M, I felt hideous. But now, as you say, I am recovered.'
Lehzen approached, her hands clasped. 'I do not feel that the Queen can possibly be fully recovered. It is quite bizarre, this sudden obliteration of her terrible sickness.'
'But not a bad thing, surely?' asked Melbourne with a soft smile.
'No … but it is most peculiar.' Lehzen took an earnest step towards the Queen. 'Your Majesty … you were very ill, delirious only a few hours ago. Surely, it must linger. Please rest.'
Victoria tried to withhold her exasperated sigh but couldn't quite manage it. 'I am fully recovered, all is well.'
'But … I …'
The Queen rounded on her. 'Oh, do stop gawping like a dispossessed codfish, Baroness! Everyone should be relieved that I am better, that is all.'
And with that she ushered everyone out, closing the door on them all and shutting herself in the room alone with her Prime Minister.
They were on each other immediately. She found herself against the door. He cupped her head and kissed her with an intensity which made her dizziness return, but this time she did not mind.
Victoria wrapped herself about him, grateful for the support of the door behind her, and returned the kiss.
'Oh, my darling, I have missed you!' she sighed.
'Have you been very unwell?' he murmured through his adoration.
She pulled back with a frown of honesty. 'Yes, I must say that I felt ghastly.'
His eyes closed against it briefly and he said with the utmost sincerity, 'I am sorry.'
'But you are here now and I am well and soon the sickness will end and we will be together for evermore.'
'Yes,' he slurred, kissing any exposed skin he could find, 'yes. God, I missed you, I missed you.'
She let him take, but sensed an unease in him not usually present. She drew back and held his face, drawing his gaze to her. 'What is it?'
'What?'
'Has something happened?'
His brows furrowed but his eyes fell from hers, confirming her suspicions. 'What do you mean, Ma'am?'
'There is something troubling you.'
He sniffed out in refutation. 'No, not at all. I am here with you. What could possibly be troubling me?'
'You seem out of sorts.'
'No, I cannot be.' He smiled reassuringly, as much for him as her. 'For I have this …' He kissed her left ear. 'And this.' And her right. 'And this.' Her forehead. 'This. And this.' Both eyes, one after the other. This continued. Melbourne covered her with such tender kisses that her concerns were allayed.
'It is so strange,' she sighed, 'how when you are away I can barely stir from my bed, and the moment you arrive, I feel as if I could conquer the world!'
'It is our connection, Ma'am.'
'Then we should finalise it. When will you turn me, Lord M?'
He drew back a little and rested his forehead against hers. 'In a while, not long.'
She grinned. 'Are you worried about not being able to feed from me afterwards?'
'A little, for you are so very delicious, I can only admit. But more …'
'What?'
His voice dropped and any lightness of tone was put aside. 'Ma'am … by turning you … I kill you.'
The word hit hard and she tried to swallow away the anxiety that took hold. She stroked her hands over him, reassuring herself of his physical presence, of the warmth and reality of this man who had already been through what she faced. 'It is hardly killing though, surely, for you are gifting me eternal life.'
'I have explained that, Victoria. You must not think of it that way. I have had times when I have wished death to take me rather than live the way I do.'
'But not for a long time, William.' She turned her eyes up, wide and open and pleading. 'And you will not feel that way with me, you know that. We will be together, we will have each other.'
'Yes … and that is the only reason I do this, despite your insistence.'
They kissed again, no fangs, for sometimes love was enough.
But at length duty overwhelmed them (they remained, despite it all, Queen and Prime Minister) and they settled to work.
Victoria noted Melbourne carefully while they worked. He remained standing just at her shoulder, as usual, and it was as much as she could do not to sit herself on her desk and let him enter her there and then. But she continued to sense a tension in him, not with regard to her necessarily, but something seemed to be distracting him. Perhaps it was business in Parliament; no doubt Peel was causing trouble again. And, after all, Lord M had not fed from her for some time.
She continued to amend the document before her, but said surreptitiously, 'Are you hungry, Lord M?'
'Not unduly, Ma'am, thank you. I had some fine poached eggs this morning.'
She smirked. 'That is not what I meant, and you know it.'
'I do not wish to increase your affliction at this time, Ma'am, which I would if I bit you, and we still have many documents to attend to.'
'Indeed, Lord M, and you have taught me that duty always comes first … but you are absurdly selfless at times.'
'One tries, Ma'am.'
Her smirk deepened. 'Hm.'
With that she reached for a penknife she had nearby with which to open letters. Drawing back the sleeve on her left arm, she placed the tip of her knife near her wrist and dragged it up so that it left a cut about an inch long. She gasped as she did so but the sight fascinated her. It was not overly deep, nor near any significant veins, but immediately blood seeped from the wound. The man next to her did not move and neither did she look up at him, it was enough to sense his need. Victoria instead focused intently on the document on improved housing for the people of Liverpool. Her right hand remained intent on annotations. But she extended her left arm up towards her Prime Minister. A splatter of blood fell from it onto the dark oak of her bureau.
It did not take long. Melbourne took hold of her arm as if it were a precious ornament, and, after a moment where he simply gazed in anticipation, he lowered his head and closed his mouth around the wound.
Victoria allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction but concentrated on the paper before her while her Prime Minister assuaged his thirst by drinking the blood from her arm.
This continued for some time. Victoria attended to several important dispatches while Melbourne stood beside her, her arm held in his hands, his lips dragging on her skin, his tongue absorbing the blood which flowed from her at his behest.
He did not bite, merely sucked, and, like the first time in the woods, it was not enough to bring either of them to a full climax, but the pulsing pleasure which it gave enfolded them in a calm euphoria.
After minutes of this, Melbourne at last drew his head off and a sound of intense satisfaction lifted from him.
Victoria turned and smiled up. 'Better?'
'You know it.'
The cut had stopped bleeding. She pulled down her sleeve and turned back to the documents. 'Good.' They continued most efficiently.
When they had at last finished, Victoria stood and curled her arms about him. 'I miss the other too. I miss you inside me.'
'I have been thinking, Ma'am – I think it would be wise if I stayed in the Palace. If I am close then your malady will not return.'
'That sounds very wise indeed. I shall inform the staff immediately.' She kissed him long and slow.
'And tonight ...' she pondered as he grazed down her neck, planting soft kisses over her puncture wounds, 'you will be with me … and on me … and in me.'
He dragged his head back to stare hard into her, let his mouth curl up and, before kissing her again, said, 'Yes, Ma'am ... I will.'
-xoOox-
Melbourne remained at the Palace and a room was prepared for him. He sent someone to Dover House for his necessaries. If he was due a meeting, he requested they attend upon him at Buckingham House.
The Queen's speedy recovery was something of a mystery, but one that people were only too happy to acknowledge. Not only did she suddenly seem revitalised but she had an ebullience which was infectious.
The afternoon after Melbourne arrived, further post was delivered to Her Majesty. The Prime Minister was in an adjacent room speaking with the Lord Chancellor and Victoria attended to her letters with Emma Portman. Most were the usual pleas and requests and missives from distant aunts inquiring after visits. But one caught her eye. It was written in a florid yet individual hand which caught Victoria's attention. She opened it curiously with the same letter opener she had earlier used on her arm.
It read as follows:
Your Majesty,
(It seems so strange addressing you as such when I recall you merely as little Alexandrina!)
I hope this letter finds you well. It has been several years since our last encounter, but I am sure you recall it well – you were quite soaked from the pond when the boat upturned, and I do hope my rather inelegant efforts to remedy the situation have not tainted your memory of me. It was with such relief that I was able to reach you and rescue you in time – that scrabble up the bank afterwards! But what a day it was – such alarm followed by joy! You were quite young, of course, and I was little more than a boy myself, but I still recall it often.
And we enjoyed such a fine picnic afterwards, although I remember you turning your nose up at the dry cucumber sandwiches which I wholeheartedly agreed with. I did manage to take some of the strawberries before you sneaked them all, however!
In any case, I write merely to let you know that I have returned from my travels (yes, Madagascar was as exciting as you said it would be!) and I find myself in London for a time. Now that you have ascended to the throne – something none of us thought much about at the time! – you will surely not have time to see me, but I wish to let you know that I still cherish such happy memories of our childhood together and wish you every happiness now.
Edward, Lord Dorchester.
Victoria read the letter quizzically, her brows knitted as she concentrated to recall the incident. Did she know a Lord Dorchester? She must have done when she was a child. She could not remember falling in a pond, but she thought perhaps she might have once; he wrote with such humoured certainty. She was intrigued and a little ashamed that she could not remember more.
'Lady Portman?' she said, calling for Emma.
'Ma'am?'
'The ball this Friday … is it too late to add a name to the guest list?'
'I suppose not, Ma'am.'
'Good … then we shall add this name to it – Lord Dorchester.'
'Who, Ma'am?'
'Lord Dorchester … have you not heard of him? I knew him in childhood ... apparently.'
'Oh?'
'Yes … he details a time when I fell in a pond and he rescued me.'
'I see … and you recall this?'
'I think so … I'm sure, yes.' She was sure, wasn't she? She felt as if she had to be, no matter what reason threw at her.
'I am not familiar with a Lord Dorchester, Ma'am. Shall I have Lord Alfred inquire?'
'No, no, that won't be necessary. He writes from an address in Belgravia, after all, and says that we were great friends in childhood. It would be rude not to acknowledge this. Invite him – it will be intriguing to meet again.'
Emma stared hard at her for a moment, but could not argue. 'Very well, Ma'am.'
-xoOox-
Lord M assured her that he would find a way of coming to her that night, and indeed, at just after eleven o'clock the door from her dressing room opened and he came in.
Victoria sat up, enthralled. 'How did you do that?'
He grinned, a modicum of self-satisfaction undeniable. 'This Palace holds many secrets you do not know, Ma'am.'
'And you do?'
'Well … I have my ways, Ma'am.'
She slipped from the bed and trotted over to him. 'And I am most glad of them.' They kissed again; they could not stop.
She moaned against his questing mouth, 'I wanted you so much earlier. It is a hunger I never knew I had until it started.'
'Hm,' he said but was distracted by pulling her nightgown up and off.
She herself scrabbled at his buttons and pushed his clothing off him. 'Oh, hurry.'
Her haste matched his, and, after only just opening his placket and releasing himself, he moved her back to lie across the bed, pushed her legs apart and plunged into her with a groan of intense satisfaction.
Victoria's eyes widened with the shock of it and she gasped – it was sudden and she had forgotten how large he felt inside her. 'Oh! I …!' But she soon adjusted to his penetration and remembered to breathe again. 'Yes, oh yes.'
Melbourne looked down at her with a gaze of such devotion that it was as good as the cock embedded inside her. She wrapped her arms about him and drew him down to kiss her again. At this he started moving, in and out, slow, long strokes which dragged his length fully through her, threatening to come out, before pushing deep back in again. She met each thrust, and their rhythm matched quickly and instinctively.
But he suddenly drew his head back with a moan and she marked the sharp tips of his emerging fangs. Pleasure was stirring deep inside her, stoked by the pistoning drives of his cock as he ploughed through her body time and again, but beyond that she craved more. She arched her back, she bared her neck, and Melbourne shut his eyes to fight it.
'Yes, yes …' she repeated, urging him on, clenching the warm, wet grip of her sex around him. 'Bite me … bite me … you want to, you want to.'
He was wrestling with himself. He threw his head up again and cried out in torment. 'Stop that. Stop saying that!'
'I want you to. I want your fangs in me, I want to feel you sucking me out.'
He roared with anguish but it did not stop his cock as it plunged in and out of her. 'It's enough, for now it's enough. You're so good, you fuck me so well.'
His use of the word threw her – it was, after all, not a common word at Court – and she forgot to plead for his bite. 'What did you say?'
He lifted her leg to angle himself differently and went at her with grunts of determination, pinning her to the bed with his thrusts. 'I said … you fuck me so well.'
Victoria grinned. 'Then … don't stop.'
'I won't,' he groaned, and after ploughing hard through her three, four more times, he released powerfully, his seed surging white and hot out of him. But he didn't stop moving, and she came soon after with a strength which robbed her of movement, voice and coherent thought.
The strength of their joining abated both his hunger and hers. He was right: for now, it was enough. But the effort to resist was becoming too great and he knew it all too well.
But their ecstasy had resulted in something else. It had distracted them entirely from the other matter occupying both their thoughts: namely the person who Melbourne had encountered in Smithfield and the person who had written the letter to Victoria, the two people being, of course, one of the same.
Thanks for the interest in this over here - this isn't my usual Vicbourne stomping ground but I want to remain loyal to ffnet for so many reasons. Let me know what you think if you're reading on here. Thanks for the lovely reviews so far. xx
