Author's note: (Okay, so I hope uploading this goes better than the last chapter I put up, lol) With the new series of Victoria airing right now in the US (don't worry, no spoilers!) the muse was inspired to update this story. The only trouble is, this is where things start to get weird? Not weird in a bad way, just weird in a "gee, this is taking a turn I didn't expect" way. Although, some might think it's bad, who knows. Only about 3 people are reading this anyway, it's pretty much a vanity project for me. It's my story, I do what I want! LOL If you're still reading this, I hope you enjoy this update. If not...I'm gonna finish it regardless, so don't waste your breath.
Disclaimer: History is for chumps.
Chapter 10
"William! William! Don't leave me! Don't leave me!"
A dull blow hit him in the ribs, shaking away the last remnants of sleep. William's eyes flew open, disorienting him further. Where was he? What happened? Who was crying out?
Another kick struck his shin; William groaned. He felt sluggish, like the world around him was underwater. Another anguished cry of his name finally cut through his disorientation; he knew that voice!
Victoria.
William rolled over, peering through the dark. Sure enough, his queen was beside him in the bed, her nightgown tangled around her tiny body as she writhed in despair, caught in the throes of a terrible nightmare. He had to wake her! "Victoria! Victoria, wake up! Wake up!" He shook her shoulder hard, fear settling deep in his chest. Whatever she was seeing had to be awful; she was the strongest person he knew. "Victoria!"
Victoria snapped up, her eyes wide and terrified. Panting, she looked around wildly, calming a fraction when she saw him. "William?!"
"Yes, my love. It's me." Victoria promptly threw herself into his arms, knocking the breath from his lungs. He gasped but he didn't dare let go. She was shaking like a leaf, so tiny and fragile. Fear for her made his chest ache. Oh, his darling girl!
Victoria breathed him in; she prayed he was real. The dream—no, nightmare—had felt so real. William covered in blood, his blood staining her clothes, her hands. She watched him slip away from her, unable to stop it. It was one of the most terrifying things she could imagine.
Wait. That wasn't right. She didn't imagine William covered in blood. The carriage ride. The gunshots. William's blood soaking his shirt, her hand pressed to his shoulder, desperately trying to keep as much blood inside him as she could. Abruptly, she raised her head, her hands frantically touching his face. His skin was warm, stubble covered his chin. He had to be real, right?
As gently as he could, William eased her questing fingers away from his face. "Victoria, what's wrong? You're scaring me, darling."
Her lower lip quivered. "You were shot. Don't you remember?" Then her eyes widened in horror. "Oh goodness, am I hurting you?" Her eyes dropped to where he'd been shot; her fingers trembled, afraid to touch him.
William blinked, momentarily stunned. Shot? Him? That didn't make sense. He felt fine. Better than fine. Slowly, his hand reached up to where she stared at his shoulder. William closed his eyes, trying to remember. Yes, they'd taken a carriage ride. So many people, cheering their queen as they passed. The crisp fall air couldn't seem to touch him; he basked in his queen's warm glow. He was so proud of her! A bang, a punch. He knew that sound. A gunshot! His mind couldn't register the pain, focused on a single goal. Keep Victoria safe. He had a vague memory of shoving her down to the floor of the carriage; after that, nothing.
If he had been shot, how could he be sitting up right now? None of this made sense.
"I remember," he whispered. "Flashes, mostly. We took a carriage ride with Killian and Emma."
Victoria cried out in relief; the strange look on his face was frightening. "Yes, yes, we did. You saved my life and nearly sacrificed your own! Don't ever do that again!"
William chuckled dryly. "I'm afraid that is quite beyond even your power, Ma'am."
Victoria looked like she might slap him for a moment; she contented herself with clenching her tiny fists. "Don't you dare mock me, Lord M! I am quite serious!"
"I'm not mocking you, Ma'am. But you must know that when it comes to a choice between your life or mine, I will give mine gladly."
He expected her to rage at him again, but she broke down instead. All the stress of not knowing if he would live or die was too much. She sobbed into his shoulder, holding him with all the strength she could muster. Only once she cried herself out did she raise her head, concern in her red rimmed eyes. "I was so thoughtless!" she cried. "Did I hurt you?"
"Strange as it sounds, I appear to be quite uninjured, Ma'am." He rolled the shoulder in question. "See for yourself."
She bit her lip as she peeled back the neck of his nightshirt. Confusion contorted her beautiful face. "I don't understand. There was a wound. Right here." She touched it gingerly, afraid this was another dream. "I didn't let go until we arrived back at the palace. Killian showed me how to…how is this possible?"
"I believe you, Victoria."
She let out a relieved breath. The last thing she needed was for anyone to think she was turning into her grandfather. "But what happened? The doctor removed the bullet; I saw him do it."
"You saw him? Victoria, were you here the whole time?"
She fixed him with a look. "Where else should I have been? The man I love was being operated on!"
Willian drew her against his chest, both frustrated and relieved. She was a soldier's daughter after all. "My apologies, Ma'am. I did not mean to cause such scene."
"I couldn't leave you," she replied tearfully. "I just couldn't."
How long had it been since someone cared for him like this? Tears stung his eyes, the depth of her love for him heartbreaking and life affirming at the same time. Whether he bore the marks now or not, it had been a close call. He would make the same choice, again and again, but the idea of her in pain shredded his heart. "It is alright, Victoria. I'm right here. We're both safe."
The question was…how?
Emma slipped from her husband's arms, unable to sleep. Had she made the right choice? Hours later, she still wasn't sure. Of course, if Melbourne had died, it meant that she and Killian might have been stuck here forever, but that wasn't why she'd healed Melbourne. Not really. If the worst had happened, they would simply have found another way home. Emma had never been the kind to give up.
She healed Melbourne because she could not bear to see someone she cared about lose the person they loved. Emma herself had been through that hell—twice—a miracle had brought Killian back to her. She did not know what she would have done if Killian hadn't come back. What was it her dad always said? True love lost can never be replaced.
Losing Killian forever might not have killed her, but she would never have been the same. He was the only person she could have spent the rest of her life with. She wouldn't have found the strength to try again. She would have gone on, for Henry's sake. But her life would have been empty. She couldn't stand by and allow Victoria to know that pain. Not when she could stop it.
Now they would have to live with the consequences.
Emma took a peek at her sleeping husband. Killian looked peaceful, boyish. Physically, he was only a couple years older than her, but his eyes carried the weight of the centuries he'd lived. Even now, as happy as they were, she still sometimes saw the darkness he was so afraid of. She knew he'd done terrible things; the guilt he carried would have been overwhelming for a lesser man. Yet, Emma had seen firsthand how hard he tried to atone for his sins. The weight of his past was crushing, yet he bore it. She loved him so much for that. She vowed to spend the rest of her life showing him just how deeply he was loved.
Carefully, Emma bent over the sleeping pirate and brushed a tender kiss to his temple. He didn't stir, for which she was thankful. She certainly wasn't going to get back to sleep; there was no reason to wake him. As silently as she could, Emma got herself dressed; she had to use magic to secure the laces at the back of her gown, but it was worth it. Once she was finished, Emma tiptoed out, no real destination in mind. She thought about checking on Victoria and William, but she didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to the state in which they left them the night before.
The palace was quiet. It was still early, just after sunrise. The sky carried streaks of pink and orange as the sun struggled to rise above the city buildings. It looked so different from the London of her time. The familiar Victoria statue was nowhere to be seen; the city wasn't nearly as close to the palace. How could so much change in little more than a century? She wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't witnessed it with her own eyes.
They'd left Victoria in Melbourne's room the night before; neither had the heart to attempt to move her. The queen would have fought them anyway. Being together could only help; Emma could hardly bear to let Killian out of her sight those first few weeks after his return. Killian had assured her that William's servants could be trusted; Emma trusted his judgment. The couple would be fine for a few more hours. Emma wandered the halls, thinking. Despite her troubled thoughts, she'd done enough surveillance herself to know when someone was following her.
"Who's there?" No one answered. Emma took a few more steps as did her pursuer. "I know you're there," she said evenly. "Show yourself!"
A haggard looking Duchess of Kent stepped out of the shadows. "Where are you going?"
"You're the one following me, Duchess. Where are you going?"
The Duchess moved closer, venom in her eyes. "What have you done to my daughter? She was willful and stubborn before, but you've filled her head with nonsense! She teeters on her throne and it is all your fault!"
"If you'd seen the people yesterday, you would know that's not true. They love her. They want her to be happy." Emma wasn't about to let this woman bait her.
"Happiness has nothing to do with it! Was I happy when her father dragged me to this barbaric island? No! But it was my duty!"
"So, you'd rather she be miserable with a man she doesn't love?"
"Someone shot at her! They want her dead! She must marry Albert! It is the only way to save herself!" The Duchess was nearly hysterical, tears streaming down her cheeks. The handkerchief she carried was impossibly twisted around her fingers; the fabric looked like it would tear any moment.
"Newsflash: as long as she is Queen, she will never be safe! Life doesn't work that way! You can't lock her way in this palace like some kind of doll! She is a person, and she has the right to live her life the way she wants! With whoever she wants!" Emma took a deep breath. "Look, you're her mother. I'm sure you want what's best for her. But Victoria is not a child. She is a grown woman, capable of making her own choice. She loves Lord Melbourne. If you can't find a way to accept that, then you will lose her. I promise you that."
How many times had Emma looked at her own mother and wonder? When Neal first returned, Mary Margaret couldn't imagine why Emma wouldn't want to take him back. They had a child together. Emma didn't want to explain, because she didn't want to disappoint her parents with the person she'd been. Emma wasn't proud of the choices she'd made back then. Sure, she had Henry, but she'd lost so much time with him. It was all too painful; Neal had broken her trust. He couldn't get it back. She would always care about him, but she didn't love him. She had no idea how to make her mother see that. The hopeful look in Mary Margaret's eyes whenever she talked about Neal back in Neverland was too much for Emma to take.
Emma was too stubborn at the time to realize that someone else was already worming their way into her heart.
"I will not be spoken to in this manner!" the Duchess cried shrilly. Before Emma could say anything else, the older woman spun on her heel and stalked off.
Emma sighed. She couldn't make the Duchess understand. Love didn't always make sense. It wasn't rational. It simply was. Victoria loved William. He loved her. They'd fought it, struggled against it, but it was too much for them. Emma knew what that felt like. She'd tried so hard not to fall in love with Killian, but she'd failed. She couldn't have been happier about that. The future was wide open; they could fill it however they chose.
Emma smiled to herself. She really hoped (and she had no reason to think that he wouldn't) that Henry would like a little brother or sister. It was the one dream she'd never allowed herself, even when she could admit to herself that she loved Killian. Now, it was one step closer to reality.
Well, once they returned home. As much as Emma liked the Queen, she desperately wanted to return home. The fastest way to accomplish that was to untangle the quagmire they found themselves in. One that she may or may not have made worse. It was impossible to know until she spoke to Victoria. But what would she say? I'm not really a princess, I'm some magical savior. Sorry about all the life saving?
The truth was they'd been lying since the moment they arrived. Out of necessity, sure. But did that make it right? If their actions—hell, their very presence here—altered history, didn't Victoria deserve to know the truth? She won't believe it, her mind argued.
But did it matter? There was a time Emma didn't believe, but that didn't make her reality less real. Victoria deserved the truth, even if no one else did. There was someone around the Queen who was trying to harm her, or at the very least, frighten her. No, she and Killian couldn't leave until they got to the bottom of this mystery. Even if that meant losing her friendship with the Queen.
Where was his wife? Killian was keenly disappointed (and a little concerned) when he woke to find her missing from their bed. Judging from the cool sheets beside him, she'd been gone for some time. The previous day had been unexpectedly trying; while the immediate danger was past, he knew Emma too well. She wouldn't rest until they got to the bottom of what happened. Not to mention asking her to use her magic on his friend was dangerous, especially since they had no way home as of yet. Had he made the right choice? Or had he been careless with his True Love's safety? While he knew better than anyone that Emma could take care of herself, Killian still felt it was his duty to protect her where he could. She had too much to live for now.
A quick search of their suite confirmed what he already suspected. She was gone. Where could she have gone? There was only one way to find out.
Killian got up and dressed as quickly as he could. At the last moment, he remembered to put on his false hand, rather than his hook. He disliked the damned thing; it was heavy and awkward. It threw him off balance. Moreover, he was just used to the hook. When he first admitted his feelings for Emma, he believed his missing appendage to be a detriment; she deserved someone whole. But she proved him wrong, over and over. Her acceptance of him as he was helped him begin to accept himself. The darkness still clung to the edges of his heart, but it no longer ruled him. He'd discovered light and hope again; he would spend the rest of his days showing his gratitude.
It was early, very early. The palace was only just starting to buzz with activity, servants hustling through the corridors. Killian stopped more than one, inquiring after his wife. No one seemed to know where she was. Could she have gone to check on Victoria and Melbourne? Starting that way, Killian turned a corner, his thoughts consumed with concern for his wife. And walked directly into someone equally as distracted as himself.
"Apologies," he said quickly, reaching out to steady his unintended victim. Small arms clung to a pile of sheets, the pile almost as large as she was.
"It's alright," a familiar voice said, sounding slightly muffled.
"Miss Skerrett?"
"Yes, Captain. My apologies. I can't really see where I'm going with these."
Killian helped her maneuver the sheets into a more comfortable position. "I wasn't watching where I was going, Miss Skerrett. Don't trouble yourself." He recalled that this was Victoria's dresser, one of her most trusted servants. "How is the Queen?"
Miss Skerrett looked around quickly. "Still in Lord Melbourne's chamber. I took the liberty of mussing her bed, hoping to stop idle talk." The young woman nodded pointedly at the sheets she held.
Killian nodded in understanding. "Has it worked?"
She shrugged. "I do not know. Do you think Lord Melbourne will be alright?"
"Aye, I do. He'll be up and about in no time."
Skerrett breathed a sigh of relief. "I am pleased to hear that. Her Majesty…cares for him very much."
"I think they will be very happy together. I'm sure she'll be grateful for all you've done for her."
"It is my honor to serve her."
Killian tilted his head. "You are very fond of her."
Skerrett blushed. "She accepted me for who I am, even when she didn't have to. I owe her a great deal. But yes, I would do what I could to see her happy."
Killian smiled. "Then she is lucky to have a friend as loyal as you. Now, can I help you with these? I was looking for my wife, but these look like more than one person can handle."
Skerrett shook her head. "I can manage, but thank you, Captain. I thought I saw the princess heading for the gardens. You might want to try there."
"I will, thank you." Killian watched the young woman leave, touched by the care she had for her Queen. Victoria needed all the friends she could get. Once Skerrett turned the corner, he hurried off in the direction of the gardens.
"Emma?"
Emma turned, surprised to hear her husband's voice. "Over here, Killian."
He rounded the corner, looking both relieved and slightly anxious. "Not exactly where I expected you to be, love."
Emma half shrugged. "Sorry. I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to wake you."
He moved up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "What's troubling you?"
"I can't help but wonder if I made the right choice."
"If we made the right choice, lass," he corrected. "We're in this together."
"But it's my magic."
"True, but you only considered using it as a last resort. And I asked you to. We don't know yet what the consequences will be."
"That's what worries me. The last thing we need is the word 'witch' to start getting thrown around." Magic wasn't supposed to be real in this world, but it was. It wasn't supposed to be real in her world either, but they found pockets—even outside of Storybrooke—where the rules didn't apply. Was this one such place? Or was it because Henry created this world with his burgeoning Author powers?
"It won't come to that."
"How do you know?"
"Because magic or no, Victoria will simply be happy to have the man she loves alive and well."
"We have to tell them the truth."
"They won't believe us."
"It doesn't matter. I hate lying. She's my friend, Killian."
"But if what you fear comes to pass, she might not want to be your friend."
The look of resignation on her face broke his heart. She did not need him to tell her these things; she'd likely been turning it over and over in her mind all night long. "It's a risk I have to take. They're going to want answers, Killian. You know that. Bullet wounds don't just heal themselves. I owe her the truth."
"Very well then." He slowly turned her in his arms and placed a gentle kiss to her lips. "I will be right by your side."
Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, taking strength from his sturdy embrace. She loved him so much. "Thank you."
"It is always my pleasure, love." He stepped back and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"
Victoria peeled back the top of William's nightshirt again, mystified by what she found. There was nothing. The skin was whole and perfect, not a mark to be had. It was most mysterious. She'd had her lover's blood on her hands! She would never be able to banish that image from her mind. The fear that she might lose him had caught in her throat, nearly making her choke.
There had to be an explanation; she simply could not fathom what it might be.
William took her hand between his larger ones. "Victoria, staring at it will not bring you the answers you seek."
"Do you not think it strange?"
"Of course, I do, but I also realize that I've been given a second chance." He smiled ruefully. "Perhaps more like a fourth or fifth chance, but another chance all the same." He threaded their fingers together. "I want to spend the rest of my days loving you the way you deserve."
Victoria drew their joined hands to her lips, brushing them over the back of his hand. "I want that too, Lord M. More than anything. Yet it pains me to know how close I came to losing you."
William used his free hand to cup her cheek. "I came just as close to losing you, Victoria. This is now the second time someone has attacked you. We must get to the bottom of it, as quickly as possible." It frightened him more than he cared to admit. While his miraculous recovery was a puzzle, it was the least of his concerns. Now that he was out of danger, it was his duty to make sure she was safe. What sort of husband would he be otherwise?
Victoria looked away. "I had not considered that. I do not understand how there could be people out there who wish me ill."
"I doubt it is you personally," he said, trying to believe it himself. "It's more about what you represent."
"What are you saying? Could the Chartists be behind it?"
"I am unsure, Ma'am. Perhaps we should inquire of Sir Robert; see if his police have discovered anything."
Victoria allowed him to draw her close to his chest; she could feel his heartbeat under her palm. She was so thankful that he seemed to be perfectly alright, but something nagged at her. She was missing something. But she couldn't imagine what it could be.
A soft knock roused them from the quiet. "Victoria? William? It's us, Emma and Killian."
Victoria let out a breath. It was only their friends. But how would she explain William's recovery? It was too late to worry about it now. "Come in!"
The door opened just enough for the couple to slip through. "Apologies for the intrusion. We just wanted to see how you were."
Victoria blushed, suddenly aware that both she and Lord M were in their nightclothes. But their friends didn't seem to mind. She had to admit it was nice to see a friendly face.
William felt her tense; he stroked the inside of her wrist to calm her. "We are quite well, which seems to be something of a miracle."
"A miracle?"
"I don't recall all that happened yesterday, but Victoria assures me that I lost quite a lot of blood. But today there's nothing. No mark of any kind. It is most unusual."
Emma shifted uncomfortably. Now that the moment of truth was here, she was nervous. How would they react? "I can explain."
Victoria blinked at her friend. Emma could explain? How? She greatly disliked not understanding things. It always reminded her of Sir John and the horrible way he looked down on her back at Kensington. He deliberately kept her ignorant, something she was still fighting to overcome.
"Perhaps we should move this to the sitting room?" Killian suggested.
"I agree," William said, nodding. He let go of Victoria long enough to pull on some trousers and a loose shirt; he didn't think this was a conversation to be had quite so casually. Victoria curled into his side the moment he joined her on the small couch, her eyes wide with curiosity.
Emma didn't miss the way the petite queen's fingers brushed over the patch of skin where her beloved was wounded. "It's kind of a long story actually. But I hope when we're finished you believe that we're your friends. I didn't expect that when we arrived here, but I do cherish our friendship."
"Why wouldn't we believe that?" Victoria asked.
"Because we haven't been entirely truthful. In fact, Leopold wasn't entirely wrong about us."
Victoria's frown deepened. "Explain."
With an encouraging nod from Killian, Emma launched into the story. The real story. Magic and fairy tales, pirates and saviors, portals and time travel, happy endings and possible alternate realities. Killian stepped in a few times when Emma couldn't find the right words, her hand firmly in his. Victoria's face was hard to read; Emma couldn't blame her if she were angry. Emma couldn't say she wouldn't be, if the situation were reversed.
When she finished, the silence was deafening. Emma glanced from Victoria to William. "I wouldn't blame you in the slightest for being upset. I am deeply sorry that we misled you. Coming to this place was an accident. We never meant for any of this to happen. But I just…can't stand by and do nothing when bad things happen. I never could, even when I knew I should. It's not who I am."
Killian looking lovingly down at his wife. Her innate goodness was probably the thing he loved most about her. She could have traveled a very different path, but she was too strong for that.
Victoria didn't know what to believe. It all sounded so impossible! Magic spells? The future? Some sort of time travel? It was all nonsense. Yet it explained certain things that puzzled her. The way Emma spoke, for example. Her lack of knowledge regarding royal protocol, for another. Victoria had simply assumed it was Emma's evident dislike of formality, but it was more than that. This woman had not grown up the same way Victoria had, that much was clear now.
She was surprised how much it hurt. Victoria believed she'd found a genuine friend, someone who understood her life. But it was all a lie.
"Was any of it true?"
The hurt in the other woman's voice cut Emma deeply. "My mother was a princess in another land. When she met my father, she'd been a bandit for a while. It's complicated."
"Emma may not have grown up in a palace, Your Majesty, but she's just as much royalty as you are," Killian said firmly.
"Killian…"
"I know how much you dislike it, love, but it's true. If not for the curse, you would be her, Queen of your realm. And a good one too."
"If not for the curse, I wouldn't have you," Emma countered. "Or Henry. No, thank you." As the words came out of her mouth, she realized they were true. There was a lot about her life that she wished was different. But everything led her here. How could she wish for anything else?
"Now, love, do you really think that I would fail to find you?" he replied with a grin.
Emma rolled her eyes. That wasn't the point right now. "I know this is all very hard to believe, but I can prove it." She raised her hand and waved it at a nearby vase. In a flash, it was filled with orchids.
Victoria's eyes widened. She looked to Lord M, who appeared just as dumbfounded as she. The ramifications of all this was almost too overwhelming. She grasped for something, anything to make sense of what she was seeing. "That day in the park," she settled on at last. "How did you know? Was there really even an assassin?"
William blinked. He hadn't thought of that. But if their story about the future was true, it made sense. He didn't quite know what to make of magic and other lands, but he could see plainly how much revealing this pained Emma. Yet, he admired her courage.
Emma shared a glance with Killian. "Actually, Killian figured it out. He's done a lot of reading about English history. You're…kind of a big deal."
"Big deal?"
"This whole bloody era is named after you, Your Majesty," Killian interjected. "You're one of the most famous monarchs to ever live."
William couldn't have stopped his smile even if he wanted to. He knew she would be a great queen. He'd seen it in her eyes the moment they met. He was awed by her, his little queen.
"I fail to see how that's relevant."
"There are—were—assassination attempts," Emma replied. "Nine of them. They all fail, but it's well documented. I knew you were the key to us finding our way home, so we used our knowledge to our advantage."
"By saving her life?" Melbourne asked.
It was impossible for her to read his tone. He didn't sound angry or even upset. He was deceptively calm about all of this. It was a little unnerving. "Yes. Yet by doing that, we may have set off an entirely different chain of events."
"How so?" Victoria asked.
Emma looked down at her hands, debating with herself. How much should they reveal? She was torn between telling the truth and protecting her friend. Too much knowledge of the future could be even worse than none.
Victoria stood, her temper getting the better of her. "I demand you tell me. What do you know?"
Emma sighed. "Where we come from, you marry Albert. None of this," she gestured between Victoria and Melbourne, "ever happens. We're in completely uncharted territory. I don't know if it's the magic in this place or if we're really changing the future. I am so sorry."
Victoria balked. Marry Albert? There was a world where she didn't get to spend her life with Lord M? Preposterous! She would not have it! "Get out," she said, her voice quivering with anger. "Get out!"
"Victoria…"
"I said, get out. Now."
Killian grabbed her elbow and gently raised Emma to her feet. As they departed, he shared a look with Melbourne, a look Victoria didn't see. He understood the Queen's hurt and anger; Killian hoped that Melbourne would help her to see that they meant no harm. Until then, Killian intended to find out exactly who wanted to harm the Queen of England.
The moment the door clicked shut, an enraged scream tore from Victoria's throat. "They must think me a simpleton, like Mama and Uncle Leopold!" she cried, pacing back and forth. "Magic?! Portals? It's all ridiculous!"
William stood, gathering her hands in his. "You saw it with your own eyes, Ma'am. As did I."
"A parlor trick! Sleight of hand! Call it what you will. It's not real, Lord M."
He yanked on the collar of his shirt. "Then how do you explain this?" he shot back. "You said it yourself. You saw the blood. You held it inside me with your own hands, Victoria. Emma healed me with her power. She did something unselfish, for which I am very grateful."
Victoria scoffed. "No, the doctor must have…"
"Must have what? Stitched me back together and not left a mark? Even if that were possible, it doesn't explain how I feel."
That brought her up short. "How you feel? I don't understand."
"As much as you hate to admit it, there is a significant difference in our ages, Ma'am." He saw her open her mouth to protest, so he ploughed on. "While I am grateful that you've never held it against me, it was always going to be an obstacle to us obtaining the future you want." Her eyes welled with tears; he clasped her small hands in his larger ones. "I want that future too, Victoria, more than you know. I just never allowed myself to believe it was possible. Not until recently. I've cursed how selfish I am, knowing I could leave you a young widow."
"Is that why you made me promise that I would be happy?"
He nodded. "To assuage my own conscience. I hated myself for the future I was taking from you."
"But I love you, William. I want to be with you!"
He brought her hands to his lips and kissed the back of it. "You've made that quite clear. But it doesn't change reality. At least it didn't. Now, I wonder if things are different."
"How?"
Willian shrugged. "It's difficult to explain. But I feel…changed. Invigorated, somehow. Aches that used to bother me are gone." He smiled down at her. "Although lately, someone has been making me feel quite young." Victoria blushed, but she didn't look away. She knew exactly of what he spoke. "I still worry that you will come to your senses, but for the first time, I have hope that I can be by your side for a long time to come."
"I do hope you were jesting, Lord M. I am quite serious in my choices." She lifted her chin, even though she could see the merry twinkle in his eyes. He was teasing her! And yet, looking at him—really looking—she could see a little of what he meant. He was just as handsome as ever, but there was something else. She couldn't define it, but she knew it was there.
William touched the ring on her finger. "I assure you, Ma'am, I am quite serious too." This was the life he wanted; he wanted her. Before he could talk himself out it, he bent and kissed her. Softly at first, relearning the taste of her. Victoria shivered, her fingers curling into his loose shirt. A surge of heat washed through her as he pulled her closer, her curves smashed against the hard planes of his chest. His tongue swiped along her bottom lip; Victoria opened instinctively.
William gripped her slim waist, his hands sliding over the thin fabric of her nightgown. She was warm under his touch, all soft curves and willing. His fingers sunk into the globes of her arse; Victoria moaned. All his blood rushed south; she made such delightful sounds! Awkwardly, he led them back to the couch, barely taking his lips from hers as he settled her in his lap. Victoria straddled his legs, her nightgown bunched around her thighs.
Victoria's anger melted under her lover's sensual touch; William always knew how to arouse her. Her eyes fell closed as he kissed his way down her throat and across her collarbone. The cool air of the room touched her overheated skin as he loosened the neck of her nightgown, easing it off her shoulders. She was bare beneath it and no longer shy about it. The hunger she saw in his eyes spoke to something deep within her; she longed for him. "William…"
His hands moved of their own accord, sliding up under her gown. "We mustn't," he protested weakly, despite every instinct telling him to make her his own. "Not yet."
She let out a strangled cry of frustration. "I can feel how much you want me," she whispered, rocking over his clothed erection. He felt so delicious between her legs; she wanted to take the next step.
"Which is exactly why we shouldn't."
"Do husbands not traditionally desire their wives?"
"This soon to be husband very much desires his bride," he growled, wrapping his lips around one of her pert nipples and sucking hard. She keened, her fingers digging painfully into his hair. He groaned, rocking against her swirling hips. "But not like this."
"Like what? I want you, William. Please."
It took all his self-control, but he shook his head. "You want a distraction from the news you've just received. I won't take advantage of that."
Victoria wanted to shriek in frustration. Why did he have to be so noble when she merely wanted to forget everything that had happened? "I've wanted you longer than I can remember," she confided. "Before I even knew what it was that I needed. Please, William. Please." She drew his mouth back to her flesh, needing more of the sensations be drew from her. Obediently, he took her neglected nipple into his mouth and teased her with lips and tongue and teeth. Fresh jolts of need went through her; her arousal soaked his trousers.
"Bloody hell," he swore softly. Against his better judgement, he lifted the nightgown over her head, revealing her lithe form. "So much I want to do to you, Victoria."
She leaned in and kissed him deeply. The lust that burned in his eyes only made her wetter. "Touch me, William. God."
Before she breath, William hoisted her into his arms and marched them back to his bedroom. Victoria giggled happily as he deposited her on the bed, crawling in after her. She bit her lip as he removed his shirt, but stubbornly kept his trousers on. Parting her thighs, he moved closer, his mouth hovering over her ear. "If we do this," he whispered. "There's no going back. Tell me you understand."
The command in his tone made her shiver. He was so close to giving her what she needed so badly; she would do anything. "I understand," she said clearly. "I need you, William."
William nipped at her breast. "Out there, you belong to all. But here…you're mine. All mine."
"Yes, yes!" she agreed quickly.
"There is no one here but us."
She nodded. In that moment, she could not imagine anything more perfect. To think she'd nearly lost him! Whoever tried to take him from her would pay. And yet…he'd been saved. So unselfishly. Tears threatened; Victoria drew her lover in for a passionate kiss so he wouldn't notice. The truth might be impossible, revealing it might hurt, but it brought them to this moment. Victoria was so thankful to Emma for all she had done. Later, she'd find a way to apologize for her outburst. Emma truly was her friend; she saw that now. They were two women who loved impossibly, beyond reason. They were the same.
William felt her tremble beneath him; he knew in that moment that everything would work out. Somehow, some way, they would have everything they wanted. He felt her forgiveness, her innate goodness winning over momentary hurt. And he fell even more in love with her.
Victoria moaned softly as he nibbled along her collar, one hand massaging her breast. She arched into his touch, intoxicated with the feel of him above her. His weight pressed her into the mattress; the material of his trousers felt amazing against her aching flesh. She ground against him shamelessly, craving more.
"No need to rush, darling girl," he chided gently. "I intend to get my fill of you."
She nodded weakly, a slave to the desire that burned within her. William had awoken it, given it life; she could only ever be his.
Slowly, William kissed his way down her body, lavishing each nipple with attention. Victoria made the most delectable sounds, soft sighs and low cries, as she writhed under him. He loathed hurting her, so he took his time, winding her tighter and tighter, his fingers dipping down to massage her swollen bud. Victoria jumped at his touch, her first orgasm ripping through her. Her tiny hands fisted the sheets, her back bowed off the bed as she climaxed. Her cry of pleasure, so familiar now, made his chest swell with pride. He did this to her. He discovered the passionate woman inside the monarch.
Victoria shivered as she felt the bed dip around her. Where was William? Where was he going? She forced her eyes open, even as she struggled to catch her breath. William was nearby, sliding his trousers over his hips. Victoria was stunned to realize he wore no undergarments; his cock bobbed proudly against his stomach. She swallowed heavily; butterflies settled in her belly. How could she have forgotten how…large he was? She wanted him desperately, but she would be lying if she said that some part of her was a little apprehensive.
William felt her eyes on him. "Come."
Victoria moved closer, humming softly as he drew her into a kiss. "You can still change your mind."
Gathering her courage, Victoria shook her head. "I want to be yours, William."
William rolled, drawing her against him. He kissed her slowly, reverently, fully conscious of the gift she was giving him. Her hands wandered his chest, his hips; he hissed in pleasure as she curled her fingers around his aching erection. Just as he'd shown her, she stroked him, his hips rocking into her touch. For his part, he couldn't stop touching her; she was soft and firm in all the right places. He needed her as aroused as possible; the last thing he wanted was to hurt her unnecessarily. It had been some time since he'd done this, but her comfort was paramount. She would only get one first time.
"Oh," Victoria breathed. Warm fingers slid over her slick flesh, pressing against her entrance. She parted her thighs easily, welcoming him. She was no longer shy about her desires; she craved William's touch. It was heady, so much better than any wine or spirits. Her nails dug into his shoulder as he eased two fingers into her tight channel.
"Does this hurt?"
She shook her head. "No, it just…don't stop. Please!"
William grinned wolfishly, planting a kiss to her belly. She was wet and snug around his fingers; he slowly added a third, as his tongue teased her nub once more. Victoria bucked against his fingers, forcing him deeper inside her. He could only imagine how incredible she would feel wrapped around him. He'd dreamed of her so many times; he could hardly believe they were here in this moment. Perhaps he'd just dreamed the gunshot and the magic; this had to be heaven. He didn't deserve it, but he was going to take it all the same.
Victoria fisted William's dark hair, holding him to her as she tried to grind against him. She was so close; she needed him to give her the ultimate pleasure. "William…please!"
Her arousal soaked the sheet; she was ready. "Tell me what you want, Victoria."
"I want…I want…" As badly as she needed to climax, there was one need that surpassed all others. "I need you inside me, William."
They'd spoken several times in hushed tones about her cycle and the methods they would use to keep her from conceiving for as long as possible. Given the timing, there was only one way this would end. If he kept his wits about him, of course. He could not fail her, not when she was placing her heart and her trust in him.
He gathered her in his arms and rolled them, so he lay on his back. Victoria straddled his hips, a nervous smile on her face. Willian drew her close, kissing her thoroughly. "Do you remember what I showed you?" She nodded, giving him a saucy grin as she rolled her hips. "Naughty girl."
"If I am, you made me that way, Lord M."
"Guilty, Ma'am." He kissed her again, using the distraction to line himself up. He felt her stiffen briefly, then together they eased her onto him. Victoria gasped at the initial penetration, surprised at how much he stretched her. Inch by inch she moved down, her eyes closed, memorizing the sensation. After a couple of breaths, she felt some resistance. William massaged her clit, relaxing her. There was pinch, but that was all. It faded quickly, replaced by the delicious feeling of being filled. She moaned, forehead resting on his chest. It was even better than she'd imagined; she never wanted him to leave her.
"Victoria?" She was killing him, her virgin channel accepting him, pulsing around his shaft. "Fuck."
Her eyes fluttered open. "I didn't know…"
"I'm sorry it hurts."
"No! I feel…wonderful."
"Bloody hell." He kissed her forehead, encouraging her to move. She was hesitant at first, shallow jerks of her hips, until she discovered the sheer joy of their flesh rubbing together. The friction was exactly what she'd been craving, the glide of his erection against her tight walls setting her body alight. A few times she got a little over excited and slid off him completely; she always felt empty then. William was so patient, reveling in her pleasure and slowly showing her what he liked.
It was the most glorious dream he'd ever had. The Queen of England was astride him, greedily riding his cock into oblivion. She was gorgeous, skin flushed, nipples peaked, lips parted, head thrown back. Her long hair tickled the tops of his thighs; William thrust up into her as she slid down, over and over until her walls began to quiver with impending orgasm.
William flipped them over once more, swallowing her cry of protest as he slipped out of her again. He thrust home hard, stealing her breath, pumping into her with abandon. He felt her climax just before she screamed, her nails creating painful halfmoons on his skin. He pulled out of her with a grunt, using one hand to finish himself off all over her breasts and belly.
Victoria gradually came back to herself, relishing the last remnants of her high. She'd long imagined how she would feel after; nothing could have prepared her for this. She felt changed, like she'd only been half aware of the world around her, but now, she could feel everything. When she opened her eyes, her beloved William was looking down at her with a slight furrow between his brows. "Hello, Ma'am."
"Hello." Heat crept up her cheeks; why should she feel embarrassed?
William stroked her cheek with his fingers. "How do you feel?"
"Why do you look so grim, Lord M? I am perfectly well." There was an ache between her thighs, but it only served as a reminder that she was well and truly his at last.
He relaxed a little. "I am pleased to hear it."
A doubt flittered across her mind. "Do you regret it?"
He looked slightly ashamed but shook his head. "No. I should, but it was everything I thought it would be. You are everything."
"Why should you?"
"We are not yet married, my love."
"This just proves we need to get married sooner then." She smiled, cupping his cheek and drawing him in for a chaste kiss. "I love you, William."
"And I you, Victoria." Then it was his turn to flush. "We should get you clean."
"What? Oh." She looked down; the evidence of his desire was drying on her skin. William went to fetch a cloth while Victoria took stock. Yes, the ache between her legs was still there, but otherwise she appeared perfectly fine. It wasn't until she sat up that she saw the drops of blood. "Oh dear."
"What?" Then William followed her gaze. "Yes, unavoidable, I'm afraid. Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"
Victoria shook her head. "No, I'm quite alright." She took the cloth from him and cleansed her skin. "But what do we do about the sheets?" Belatedly, she remembered why William had been so cautious. If the world knew he'd deflowered her prior to their wedding, it could put the succession into question.
He saw the panic rising in her eyes. "Let me deal with them, Ma'am." He picked her up and placed her in his favorite chair. "As much as I would love to stay here with you, the world is waiting."
Victoria took his hand. She hated it, but she knew he was right. If they lingered here much longer, people would talk. "I must apologize to Emma. My behavior was uncalled for."
"You wouldn't be human if such a discovery did not upset you," William said gently. "I'm sure Emma would tell you the same."
"I thought I'd found someone like me," she said softly.
"But you did. You may not have had the same upbringing, but in every way that matters, you are great friends. I would hate to see you throw that away."
"You understand, don't you?"
William nodded. "How long did I lie to you about how I felt? How long did I lie to myself? I allowed you to leave Brocket Hall believing that I did not care for you in that way. It was nearly the greatest mistake of my life. I thought I was protecting you. I'm sure Emma and Killian believed the same."
"I do not need protecting!"
William kissed her hand. "Anyone who knows you well understands this, my love. But you—simply by being who you are in here," he tapped her chest, "win people's love and loyalty. We would not see you hurt, not if we can prevent it. Emma chose to save me, which placed herself at risk. I can not help but respect that."
Victoria nodded. He was right, of course. She'd already forgiven her friend. She understood now why Emma did what she did. She was so grateful for her help in healing William! Her friends had come here by accident; they—quite understandably—wanted to return to their home. What kind of person would she be if she turned her back on them? To be the kind of Queen she wanted to be, she must first be the best person she could be.
"Will you send for Skerrett? I need to dress and find Emma."
"Gladly."
Emma pinched the bridge of her nose; she could feel a headache coming on. After leaving Melbourne's chamber, she and Killian started their investigation. Killian went below stairs to interview some of the staff, see if any of them had heard any rumors about the Queen's shooter. Emma spent her time questioning the Queen's ladies and her closest male courtiers. Lord Alfred was beside himself; Emma could see that he felt responsible. Once she assured him that Lord Melbourne would live, he became an ally, escorting her down to the small barracks near the palace. They spent over two hours questioning the soldiers who'd been part of the Queen's escort, trying to get an idea of exactly what happened.
Now, she was ensconced in the library, a diagram of the scene sketched out. Lord Alfred sent a squad to aid in the search; it was worrying that the shooter hadn't been caught yet.
What was she missing? Something didn't add up; she could feel it in her gut.
She struggled to remember. Everything seemed fine. The people appeared pleased to see their monarch; many shouted words of encouragement and greeting. Victoria soaked in the attention; she obviously reciprocated their affection. There had been an obstruction in the road; they'd been forced to pause while it was cleared. Why didn't the shooter use that time to fire? They'd been motionless for a good three or four minutes, plenty of time to get a shot off, even with the era's antiquated weapons. The question was why? Why wait to shoot? It was possible the shooter wasn't in place yet, but moments passed between their resumption of motion and the shot.
There was more than one shot. To the best of Emma's knowledge, mid nineteenth century guns weren't that sophisticated. To have numerous shots that close together…there had to be more than one shooter.
Oh god. If that was true, then they were dealing with a conspiracy of some kind. Who had the resources to do something like that? Who had that big of a grudge against Victoria?
Emma looked down at the sketch again, examining the angles they'd deduced each shot had come from. The one that stuck Melbourne…had it been meant for Victoria? Emma followed it with her finger. It struck Melbourne from the front. So, unless the shooter meant to strike the Queen of England from behind, Melbourne was the target.
There was someone who wished the Queen's fiancé ill. Several someones. Emma dismissed Albert almost immediately. He was certainly upset about being rejected, but Emma had never thought him vengeful. She was sure Melbourne had some enemies from his days as Prime Minister. There had been some outright objections from the Privy Council based on it. But a politician stooping so low? Emma didn't think it likely. That left only one suspect.
Leopold.
His life's work in shambles, his nephew flat out rejected by the Queen of England, his international reputation dragged through the mud both in Parliament and the nation's press…he certainly had motive. Being the monarch of a country like Belgium, he had the resources. But why risk what little familial feeling Victoria had for him? Why put his own sister through such a thing? The Duchess of Kent might not win Mother of the Year any time soon, but Emma could see how much she loved her daughter. Mistakes or not, the woman had been hysterical when they arrived back at the palace. What if the shoot had missed and hit the Queen instead?
Who would inherit the throne if Victoria died childless? Emma didn't know; she wished Killian were there. She thought Victoria had mentioned it once, but she couldn't remember now.
"Why didn't you pay more attention in school, Swan?" she mumbled out loud.
A soft knock nearly made her jump out of her skin. Emma's head snapped around to see the Queen of England slipping quietly into the room. "Victoria! You scared me!"
Victoria rubbed her hands together nervously. "My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you."
Emma stood. "No, it's okay. I suppose I deserve a lot worse." The Queen seemed a bit apprehensive, a far cry from the furious woman who'd ordered them out of her sight a few hours ago. Killian thought she'd come around; Emma was skeptical.
Victoria frowned, then shook her head. "Please accept my apology for my earlier behavior," she said softly. "I can only imagine how frightening all of this must have been for you, coming to a world that is not your own."
"Believe it or not, this is the second time I've fallen into a wacky magic portal. Killian followed me then too."
"He loves you very much."
"Yeah, he does. Still, I don't blame you for being upset. We lied, which is never right. We just thought the truth would be too bizarre." Emma smiled ruefully. "I was starting to kinda like the princess thing."
"Deep down, I think I knew there was something…different about you. But it wasn't enough for me not to want you as a friend." Victoria stepped closer. "I'd very much still like us to be friends, if that's agreeable?"
Emma nodded. "I'd like that."
Victoria sighed in relief and hurried to close the gap between them. She hugged her friend, thankful that Emma could forgive her. Victoria understood now why Emma and Killian had done what they did. As Emma said, it wasn't right, but people made mistakes. Victoria probably wouldn't have accepted the truth prior to Lord M's injury. If not for Emma's intervention, she might have lost William forever.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "For saving him."
"You're welcome."
Victoria smiled shyly. "Your secret is safe with me," she replied. "This can remain between us."
"I appreciate that."
"Lord M thinks it prudent that he remain in his rooms for a few days, to keep up the pretense. Only Skerrett knows the truth of where I will be staying at night."
"That's good. She's trustworthy." Emma had seen that herself.
Victoria glanced over her shoulder, as if to make sure they were alone. Now that the apologies were out of the way, the younger woman's demeanor had changed slightly. A smile played along her lips, her eyes sparkled. "What is it?"
Victoria's grin was contagious. "I simply must tell someone! The most wonderful thing has happened!"
Emma studied the Queen of England critically. Nothing obvious stood out to her, aside from the way she glowed. And suddenly, Emma knew. She knew that look, all too well. "Did you and Melbourne….?"
Victoria nodded, blushing furiously. "Do you think me wicked?"
Emma shook her head. "No, I think you deserve to be with the man you love."
"Lord M truly wished to wait for our wedding night, but after what happened…"
Emma covered Victoria's hand with hers. "Hey, I get it. Believe me, I definitely get it." That was a story for another day. "Does this mean you're moving up the wedding?"
"I want to, but William doubts it will be possible. There are many things that need to be decided for a state wedding, things I didn't even know about. The last time I spoke with the Lord Chamberlain, he said spring! Spring! It is November! That is entirely too long!"
Emma knew they should get to the bottom of who took a shot at the Queen and/or her fiancé, but Emma couldn't bring herself to burden Victoria with her suspicions just now. Not when she seemed so happy. Victoria deserved a happiness. "Do you have to have a state wedding? Couldn't it be something…smaller?"
They moved to the window seat, the weather reflected Emma's conflicted emotions. It wasn't rainy, but the sun had disappeared behind thick white clouds. Victoria folded a pillow in her arms. "A reigning English monarch hasn't married in some time. Lord M says the spectacle will please the people."
"And what about you? What do you want?"
"I could get married in a quiet parish church and be the happiest woman in the world."
"Then you should."
"I don't know…"
Emma gestured outside. "Look, I get it. Your people's opinion of you means a lot. You want their love. That's not a bad thing. But it shouldn't come at the expense of your happiness. This isn't about what someone prints about you in the paper or christening a ship or unveiling a statue. You can give them what they want and get what you want."
"How?"
Emma leaned closer. "Not many people know this, but my parents had two weddings."
"Two weddings?"
"It's a bit of a long story, but the short version is…my grandmother, Dad's mom, was dying. She wanted to see her son married before she passed. It was her only wish. So, a friend of theirs conducted the ceremony right then and there. Only later did they have the formal wedding."
Oh, what a sad yet beautiful story! Victoria looked outside, contemplating her capital. What did she want? She wanted to be married to William as soon as possible. They could not keep of the charade of being merely engaged for long. Even before the shooting, William slept in her chamber most nights. She could hardly be without him. Now that they'd crossed that final threshold? No, she needed her marriage to happen sooner rather than later.
It would take some work, but it might be possible. "Would you help me?"
"Of course." Emma sighed. "I really hate to out a damper on things, but there is one thing that might be more important."
Victoria nodded. "Yes, I suppose so. William wants to speak to Sir Robert, see how the investigation is proceeding. Has anyone been arrested?"
Emma shook her head. "No and that's what I'm worried about. Whoever did this might try again."
"I can't leave London," Victoria said firmly. "I will not be called a coward."
"No one's asking you to leave," Emma replied, ignoring the fact that Lord Alfred suggested that very thing. She knew Victoria would never go for it. Emma didn't think it was necessary anyway. They were safe enough in the palace. "Killian and I have been doing a little investigating of our own."
"Oh, Emma, I couldn't ask you to…"
"Hey, back where we come from, it's what we do. We help people. Trust me, Killian and I have solved plenty of mysteries together."
"I envy your partnership."
"You know, I think you and William will have the same partnership. You'll see."
"I just can't fathom who would want to do this," Victoria said sadly. "Who hates me this much?"
Emma sighed. "The thing is…I'm not sure you were the target."