"Well, Your Highness. I've heard that your custody bill for divorced mothers is taking hold. Already six court cases where the law has been applied in the mother's favour."

Sir Robert Peel drank from his wine, and Victoria flicked her eyes across the table to Melbourne.

"That's splendid to hear," Melbourne said lightly. "I confess I've thought little of legislation for the past months."

"Is that so?" Peel knowingly smiled and took a bite of his lamb. Then he sipped his wine again and said, "I'll bet you miss it fiercely, though. Politics."

"You, as Prime Minister, ought to know that nobody misses that once they leave it, Sir Robert," Melbourne countered.

"I hear your second son is off to Cambridge," Victoria cut in, and Robert Peel looked to the head of the table. He bowed his head briefly and said,

"So he is, Ma'am. How very good of you to think of him."

"What are his intentions?" Victoria asked, and when Peel looked confused, she specified, "Does he wish to enter politics?"

"Oh. I'm sure he will, Ma'am. Rather unavoidable, being a son of mine. He's taken a remarkable interest in some of the new invention cropping up. Steam engines and all that. Frederick used to spend hours with wooden blocks, building. He used to try and invent things out of household items. If he had it his way, I think he would go into industry."

Peel laughed a little, as though such a thing were a ridiculous suggestion, but Victoria smiled warmly and said,

"I hope he studied well, and that whatever he accomplishes is to his liking. You have many children, Sir Robert, do you not? Six of them?"

"Seven, Ma'am," Peel corrected. He smirked a little and said, "My poor wife, Julia. She often said that bearing the child was the woman's burden, but raising the child was the woman's joy. I didn't short her on either opportunity, I'm afraid."

"Quite so." Victoria laughed again and started to eat her lamb, listening vaguely to the quasi-political conversation between Peel and her husband. Then, suddenly, she set her knife and fork down and blurted,

"Sir Robert, I should like apologise."

Both Melbourne and Peel looked very confused, and Peel shook his head quickly.

"Whatever for, Ma'am?"

"I told you that you were unpleasant in our meeting. That was unkind of me, and moreover it was inappropriate. I do apologise for the insult, and I hope we might move forward amicably."

Peel's toadlike face softened a little, and he nodded slowly.

"Your Majesty, you spoke the truth. I am an unpleasant man. I shall do my very to be more pleasant in your presence. And I look forward to our next meeting."

"I am glad to hear it," Victoria said, picking up her knife and fork again.


"That was very well done indeed," Melbourne said, walking slowly into Victoria's bedchamber and immediately untying his thick robe.

"The dinner?" Victoria asked from the bed. "Do you suppose I've mended the ill will?"

"I have never seen Sir Robert Peel in so fine a mood as when he left, Ma'am." Melbourne hung his robe up on the hook and crawled up into the bed with Victoria. He stayed sitting, and he seemed distracted by something, so she asked,

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I was too rough with you," he said, shaking his head a bit and staring at the wall. "In your drawing room, when we argued."

"Married people argue, William. And, anyway, you were right and I was wrong."

"That's entirely beside the point." He licked his lips and whispered, "I shoved you down, and I… it was undignified and best and cruel at worst. So I am sorry."

Victoria scoffed. "I am not angry."

"I lost control of myself," Melbourne continued, and Victoria asked curiously,

"You took your frustrations out upon my body, is that right?"

"Victoria." He shut his eyes and picked at the blankets, slithering down to lie on his back. He sighed a little and reminded her, "It is my birthday in a few weeks."

"I know," Victoria smiled. "There will a party."

"No, please." He gave her a very serious look then and said, "There is nothing to celebrate; I am an old man."

"You are not old!" Victoria protested vehemently, but Melbourne choked out a little laugh and said,

"The mathematics disagree with you, Ma'am."

Victoria quickly counted years in her head, realising he was not only older than she'd considered, but far older than he looked. There was still something youthful about him, even through the lines around his eyes and the tired expression that always cloaked him. Victoria swallowed hard and asked,

"How old were you when you married?"

"The first time, you mean," he mumbled. He sighed. "I was twenty-six. I'd served in the military before then, so… anyway, all of that was long before you were even born, Ma'am, and… I told you I was old."

Victoria dragged her fingers over his wavy hair, and she said gravely,

"I could die tomorrow."

He narrowed his eyes. "Why would you say such a thing? You won't. God save the Queen."

She scoffed. "I only mean that our relative ages are utterly irrelevant when mortality is guaranteed for all humans."

Melbourne huffed. "Please, may we speak of something more cheerful?"

"Well," Victoria said, shifting her weight a little, "I would, except… Lord M. The people are placing bets on when a pregnancy will be announced."

"Yes, I'd heard that," he nodded. "They place bets about all sorts of things."

"We can't keep going like this, can we?" Victoria whispered. "I know what's expected of me."

Melbourne's face shifted, and he seemed to be thinking hard for a long moment. Finally he dragged his teeth over his bottom lip and promised her,

"Everything can be spaced out, Victoria. There's no need to have children one after the other, you know."

"All right." She nodded, and he reached up to drag his fingers through her hair.

"When did you last bleed?" His voice was blunt, and his question took Victoria by surprise, but she informed him,

"It's meant to begin again tomorrow. Perhaps the day after."

He shook his head. "It wouldn't happen today, then."

"No?" Victoria was confused.

"There is a rhythm to these things, Ma'am," he told her. "I can… complete the act within you, but… it wouldn't be today. A few weeks."

"Oh." Victoria pouted a little and glanced around his torso. "Right around your birthday, then."

"The birthday for which there will be no party?" He stroked her hair again, and Victoria shook her head firmly.

"There will be a very small ball, Lord M, because -"

"Please, no," he said again, but a smiled crossed his face. Victoria laughed a little and insisted,

"Because I do not care which birthday it is; you must be celebrated because I love you. I love you."

She bent down to kiss him then, her lips pressing delicately against his as she murmured one more time,

"I love you."

"You really were magnificent at dinner," he replied, tucking her hair behind her ear and staring right into her eyes. "You made fall for you all over again."

His hand started to go up Victoria's leg, but she whispered,

"I've cramping something terrible. Always happens the day before."

"Then I shall hold you," Melbourne said firmly, bringing her down beside him and kissing the spot beneath her ear. "I shall always hold you."

Victoria shut her eyes, breathing him in and trying to focus on the warm pleasantness of him. She tried not to imagine him withered and old whilst she was still a vibrant younger woman. She tried not to count his birthdays. Instead she counted his breaths, and to the sound of them, she fell asleep.

Author's Note: If you've seen Season 2, Episode 3, then your heart has probably been broken over these two yet again. Hopefully this is a little bit of a balm. Please do take a moment to leave a review. Thank you!