((Surprise! I guess the last chapter wasn't really the end. LOL! Someone practically begged me by PM for a coda...so, here's what I came up with. Enjoy))

November 26, 1848 9:11am

Prince Albert removed his top hat solemnly, carefully taking off his gloves one by one and placing them inside his hat, as he walked slowly in to the greenhouse at Brocket Hall, bathed in early morning light, the orchids that filled the room causing the Prince's blue eyes to soften.

Albert let out a short breath as he walked through the first rows of orchids, reaching out and touching their beautiful petals.

Only a man with a true soul and keen mind could grow orchids so beautiful...

It suddenly reinforced everything he had ever heard about William Lamb, the Viscount Melbourne—that he was an intelligent, hardworking and thoughtful man from a bygone romantic era, truly "A man of great feeling" as Victoria had once described him.

And while Albert once thought that a man who had run in the same circles as the frivolous and liberal Lord Byron couldn't possibly have enough discipline to be an upstanding gentleman (at least by Albert's harsh standards), seeing the care and discipline he had put into his greenhouse had finally changed his mind and opinion of Victoria's dear Lord M.

Though, he had to admit that his thoughts and opinions had softened toward Melbourne in the recent years since his retirement from court and those weeks he had spent with them at Buckingham Palace after his stroke.

Albert blinked as he brought himself back to reality and, reaching inside his inner coat pocket, retrieved a small envelope, opening it with one hand as he stepped forward and scooped up a small amount of dirt from the trophs that held the rows of orchids with the other.

He deposited the dark, rich soil safely into the envelope, then folded it closed and placed it gently back inside his coat close to his vest.

"Your Royal Highness…" Marc, Lord Melbourne's valet, suddenly appeared at the open door, causing Albert to straighten as Marc sighed, his voice strained—it was clear that he had been up all night-when he continued, "Thank you for coming, Sir."

Albert steeled himself then turned on his heel toward the valet and Marc bowed formally.

"Thank you for sending for me…" Albert said softly, his face falling, "Where is she?"

# # # # # # #

Marc slowly led Albert up the main staircase to the second floor of Brocket Hall.

When they reached the main landing, Albert's eyes widened when he saw the three men dressed in long black overcoats standing in the corner of the hallway near the window.

Two of them held a carry stretcher upright between them.

Albert took in a sharp breath and swallowed as his eyes fell on the trio for a long moment.

They were the undertakers and had come for Lord Melbourne.

When the men saw him and recognized him, they bowed at the waist in semi-unison.

Albert closed his eyes, then after a moment, opened them and turned them to Marc as the valet opened the bedroom door and Albert handed him his top hat and gloves as he passed through the threshold.

When he entered the room, Albert stopped immediately inside the doorway as he beheld the sight before him.

Victoria lay in the dress she had left Buckingham Palace in the evening before, her bonnet and cloves lying at the end of the bed where she now lay next to Lord Melbourne's tall pale form.

Albert gave a sad smile as he moved closer, observing the way Victoria's head rested inside the crook of Melbourne's shoulder and her hand lay clasped over his, folded carefully and ceremoniously on his chest, most likely by his brother or Marc.

Melbourne lay on top of the neatly folded bed covers in his dressing robes and night clothes, his eyes closed and his face relaxed and peaceful, his cares of this world ended.

Albert rounded the bed, moving closer to the side behind Victoria. He could hear her soft breathing and, if he had not received the news of what had happened the morning before, and had just walked in on them like they were, he would have just thought they were both sleeping, cuddled close in the same bed.

When he touched her shoulder, she stirred awake slightly and gave a small sigh.

"Victoria, it's me…" he whispered as he helped guide her, rolling her toward him, though her hand still clasped Melbourne's own on his chest next to her, "It's time to go home."

Victoria's eyes fluttered open and she beheld her husband for a long moment before her face crumbled.

"Lord M…" she said softly, her voice breaking as she tried to look over her shoulder, but Albert gently placed a hand on her chin and guided her gaze back to him

"That is not Lord Melbourne…not anymore, Mein Shantz…" Albert replied in a voice barely above a whisper, his eyes softening with sorrow, "He's gone…Victoria, he's gone…He's left this world for a better place," he tried to reassure her with a smile, "He's gone to be with his wife and son...he no longer dwells in the mortal world."

There was a long pause as Victoria's lip trembled and she looked back to Melbourne, "I—I can't—I can't let go of him…" Victoria whispered, closing her eyes as she held tightly to Melbourne hands and tears fell down her cheeks as she started to sob, "I can't…"

Albert immediately reached over her and gently took her wrist, prying her hand away from Melbourne's cold ones.

"It's alright, Darling…Let go…" He whispered as he finally was able to loosen her grip and bring one arm around his neck, while the other, he lay on his chest and she instinctively grabbed the collar of his overcoat, "Let go and hold on to me…that's it…"

Within moments, Albert had leveraged her small form up and off the bed and into his arms just as Marc entered the room.

Albert nodded to the valet as he held the still sobbing Victoria close to his chest and Marc grabbed her gloves and bonnet from the end of the bed, then followed the Prince Consort to the door.

When Albert crossed the threshold, he held Victoria steady with one arm as he reached into the front of his coat and produced four gold crowns and handed them over to the head undertaker, who had stepped forward and now bowed as he accepted them.

"For your silence," Prince Albert stated in a kind, but stern voice

"Your Royal Highness," the undertaker said formally in a tone of allegiance, then watched Albert head down the hall toward the main staircase with the Queen in his arms.

# # # # # # #

June 22, 1850

Victoria and Albert stood, proud and confident, in their ceremonial dress along side the Duchess of Kent, the Prince of Prussia and the Grand Old Duke of Wellington at the front of the private chapel at Buckingham Palace.

John Bird Sumner, the Archbishop of Canterbury, turned from the alter, lifting his noble chin as he smiled and looked down to the one month old infant dressed in a champagne colored christening gown and lying peacefully asleep in the Queen's arms.

Alter boys ceremoniously handed tapered candles to the Prince of Prussia and the Duchess of Kent.

After the Prince and the Duchess said their vows and promised to watch over the new Prince as his godparents, the Archbishop turned to Albert, Victoria and the Duke of Wellington.

"Will those who giveth the Prince the gift of his name step forward with their namesake?" he asked

Albert nodded then smirked as the aging Duke of Wellington turned to the Queen and opened his arm to receive the newborn.

The Duke met the Queen's gaze and said with good humor, "I may not have Melbourne's way with children, but I will do what I can in his stead, Ma'am."

Victoria's face softened as she looked down to her son, then smiled at the Duke as she stepped forward and gently placed the sleeping baby into his arms.

The Duke watched as the Queen straightened the baby's gown over his forearm, then winked at her reassuringly as he turned on his heel and walked forward with Prince Albert toward the baptismal font.

Victoria watched intently as the men stepped forward side by side and the Archbishop turned to his assistant and placed two fingers in the holy oil offered on a golden spoon.

He then turned to Prince Albert

"Albert…" he said as he stepped forward and made a sign of the cross on the Prince's uniformed chest with the fingers touched by Holy oil, "Be thy anointed and bound to this child of God…"

The Archbishop turned to the baby and made a sign of the cross with the same hand on the baby's forehead.

Then the Archbishop turned to the Duke of Wellington and did the same.

"Arthur…" he pronounced, using the Duke's afforded Christian name as he made the sign of the cross over the front of Duke's brocaded dress uniform, "Be thy anointed and bound to this child of God…"

He then made the cross on the baby's forehead, again, sanctifying the union of their names.

As the Archbishop turned back to the Prince, Albert pulled the small envelope he had been keeping in the inside of his sleeve and, opening it, emptied the soil he had collected from Melbourne's greenhouse carefully into his left palm and held it out.

The Prince has spoken to the Archbishop ahead of time regarding this, as well as the others in attendance, so only Victoria was taken aback by his action.

Albert heard her soft gasp and looked briefly over his shoulder to her, giving her a reassuring smile before turning back toward the Archbishop.

"This, I give in proxy of the late William Lamb, the Second Viscount Melbourne," Albert nodded to the Archbishop and the man smiled, his eyes softening as he reached out and brushed his fingers through the soil.

"William…" The Archbishop said formally, then turned to the baby in the Duke's arms, brushing the oil and the residue from the soil lightly over his forehead, "Be thy anointed and bound to this child of God…"

Victoria took in a trembling breath, trying to fight back the tears as she felt the steadying arm of her mother come around her in a moment of comfort.

The Archbishop straightened as he wiped his hand on a monogramed linen draped over his assistant's arm.

He then returned his gaze to the Duke of Wellington

"Do you renounce Satan?" the Archbishop asked

"I do renounce him," the Duke answered on the baby's behalf

"And all of his works?"

"I do renounce them," the Duke answered again

"Do you believe in God Almighty, creator of Heaven and Earth?" the Archbishop asked

"I do believe," the Duke replied

"And in Jesus Christ, his only son, our Savior?"

"I do believe."

"Do you believe in the Holy church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and the life in the here and after?"

"I do believe," the Duke answered finally looking down to the baby in his arms who was now whimpering in his sleep before settling as the Duke tried to soothe him and rocked him a little.

The Archbishop made the sign of the cross in the air over the child then bid the Duke to step forward toward the baptismal font, which the old man did as the baby began to move and awaken, flexing his tiny hands open as his eyes fluttered.

The Archbishop turned to his assistant, who handed him a small gold basin.

The Duke of Wellington gently shifted his charge in his arms and carefully held the infant over the font as it began to cry softly.

The Archbishop dipped the basin in the font and began to pour the water slowly over the baby's head.

"Arthur William Patrick Albert, I christen thee…" He said as his eyes watched the water make contact with the child, "In the name of the Father…and of the son …and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."

"Amen," the Duke and the others present said in unison

The Archbishop handed the basin to his assistant once more as the young man lightly brushed the linen over the baby's head to dry it as the Duke brought the Prince safely into the crook of his arm.

The Archbishop stepped forward and lay the end of his robe over the child's chest as the baby fell back to sleep in the Duke's arms.

"You have been clothed with Christ, Arthur William…As many who are baptized into Christ have put on Christ. Go in peace, now and may the Lord our God be with you forever and ever, Amen."