Victoria watched out the window of her bedroom as Melbourne and her cousin Albert took their horses out onto the path. Melbourne was in a dark green riding jacket and looked immensely handsome beside the much younger, more stringy Albert.
"Good morning, Your Majesty."
Victoria kept staring out the window but said politely, "Good morning, Miss Skerrett. You chose something simple today, I hope?"
"Just as you asked, Ma'am," Skerrett confirmed. "A nice patterned calico, simplest thing you'd packed."
"Fine. Thank you." Victoria was going to be having breakfast alone with her cousin, the German Victoria, and she did not wish to appear as the monarch of a powerful nation. Not today. Today she wanted to show solidarity in motherhood with her aggrieved cousin. She let Skerrett put her cream-coloured, simple dress on her, and as Skerrett put Victoria's hair into pendant braids, Victoria suggested,
"No jewelry or hair ornaments today, I don't suppose."
"As you wish it, Ma'am." Skerrett glanced up beyond the mirror at the small dressing table, and she noted, "His Royal Highness is riding out with Prince Albert, it seems? I hope they are not caught up in the rain."
"I thought the same thing," Victoria mused, for the dark clouds were certainly threatening a downpour. "It is an important conversation they're having."
Skerrett was quiet then, and finally Victoria huffed a little sigh and asked quietly,
"Can you imagine, Miss Skerrett? So very many children in so short a time?"
"And she's only eighteen." Skerrett shook her head. "No, Ma'am. I can not imagine. I see the joy you have with the Prince of Wales, but I am glad for you that you do not have so many as the poor woman here. I hope I do not overstep."
"No. I agree with you. That's why I'm having breakfast with her," Victoria said. "I think she and I are well due for a good solid conversation. The poor creature. Thank you, Skerrett."
"A fine day to you, Ma'am." Skerrett curtsied as Victoria rose, and when she walked out of the quarters she shared with Melbourne, she was greeted by several bowing and saluting guards and attendants. She nodded to them all and made her way down the grand staircase and into the simple, elegant dining room. The ceilings were arched and lovely, but Victoria noticed that some of the plaster was coming away. Those were the finances exposed again, she thought. Suddenly she found herself hoping that their visit to Coburg was not placing an undue burden on an already impoverished ducal family.
"Your Majesty." A maid curtsied low to Victoria when she came into the dining room. Victoria glanced around and said tightly,
"Good morning. Is my cousin not yet ready?"
"I... er... I believe she come," the maid said in broken English. "She feed baby. Then she come."
"Thank you." Victoria walked over to the chair at the head of the table, for even beyond Albert, she was the highest ranking royal in the household. She waited for an attendant to pull the chair out, and when she sat, the maid poured her some apple juice. Victoria nodded her thanks but waited, listening to the carved wooden clock on the wall tick out the seconds.
Finally, after what felt like an absolute eternity, her cousin Victoria came bursting into the dining room, her hair in hastily-done ringlets and her striped gown looking a bit worse for the wear. The German Victoria dipped into a respectful curtsy, and Queen Victoria said simply,
"Good morning, cousin. I hope you and your precious children are well today."
"Well enough. Thank you." She let the attendant pull out her chair, and when she sat, she muttered in German to the maid to hurry up and bring out the sausages and rolls and cheese. Queen Victoria glanced to the men in the room and waved her hand a few times to dismiss them. They bowed and left, and her cousin looked mildly confused. Queen Victoria waited until the room was empty, and then she said flatly,
"Our husbands have ridden out together to talk."
"Yes," the German Victoria nodded. "Albert was summoned early to go riding."
"They are discussing means and methods of preventing a man from putting a child on his wife," Victoria said in a plain voice. Her cousin looked a little scandalised, and their conversation ceased for a moment as plates of food were brought in. Queen Victoria waved the maid out, and when the space was empty again, she asked,
"Do you know the time of the month in which it is most likely that you will have a child put on you by Albert?"
Her cousin Victoria seemed very confused, so the queen specified,
"You begin to bleed, and then you bleed for... what? Five days? Six?"
"Five," the German Victoria confirmed.
"Right. Well, about ten days after that stops is the time when a child will be put on you. And so you must limit yourself to only being physical with your husband in the days immediately preceding and following your bleeding. Right after it stops or right before it starts."
"And that... that might spare me conception?" The German Victoria looked utterly awed, and the queen remembered then how ignorant she had been about all of this. Lord M had been the one to teach her. She had needed his tutelage on this, and now she was passing it onto her young cousin. She nodded.
"It is not one hundred percent effective - nothing is besides abstaining entirely from contact. But there is something else. He needn't always spill himself inside of you. You know what I mean by that."
The German Victoria's cheeks went very pink, and she set down her fork and knife as she murmured,
"It is my duty as his wife..."
"You have done far more than your duty already," Victoria said tartly. "My husband is speaking to Albert. He has much experience in matters such as these. More experience, perhaps, than I wish he had, but at least he is something of an expert on these things."
The German Victoria's eyes welled, and she shook her head a little.
"We are married, he and I," she said. "God has blessed... has blessed us..."
"Victoria." The queen shook her head firmly. "Your fifth child is coming and you have not yet seen your nineteenth birthday. What sort of blessing is that?"
"Albert says that God has blessed me with a ready womb," the German Victoria said firmly. "He says that it is right and proper that our family be large, that my role as a mother be paramount."
"Then he does not respect your safety, nor your comfort, nor your sanity," the queen said in a sour voice, "and I think far less of him now than I did before."
"No, I beg you." Her cousin held her hands up and murmured, "Albert adores me. He adores the children. We are happy here."
"That is not what Uncle Leopold believes, and he saw you with his own eyes not so very long ago," the queen replied. "He is, in fact, concerned with your mental wellbeing and your ability to function under these conditions."
"I am functioning," the German Victoria insisted. She put her hand to her abdomen and nodded insistently. "I promise you, Majesty... I am functioning."
Queen Victoria studied her cousin's darkened eyes, her sallow cheeks, the way it was obvious she'd been crying this morning. She glanced down at her own plate of food and found she had no appetite whatsoever, and she muttered,
"It's beginning to rain. The men will back very shortly, I think. Then, perhaps, we might begin to pack up our things. I do not want to overstay our welcome."
"Spare her conception. Those are the words she used," Victoria noted. "Then she went on and on about how much Albert adores her, how her womb is ready..."
She shuddered in disgust and stared out the carriage window, and she said quietly,
"We could not stay there."
"Believe it or not, Albert does not seem to have ill intent," Melbourne said from across the carriage. Their stay at Schloss Rosenau had lasted all of two days, but the tension had been so palpable that even Melbourne had agreed they should go back to England. He waited for Victoria to meet his eyes, and he shrugged. "Albert really thinks that all these children are a blessing, that his wife is a wonderful and beautiful creature for bearing them all. He really does not seem to comprehend why someone would wish to space out children in the first place."
"So he was not receptive to your suggestions?" Victoria asked, and Melbourne smirked a little, dragging his fingers through his hair.
"He took it on himself to lecture me," Melbourne said. He imitated Albert's German accent then and said, "Prince William, forgive me, but you are already rather aged. If my cousin Victoria is to bear many children within your marriage, do you not think it wise that she should do so quickly?"
"What a beast he is!" Victoria exclaimed, and again Melbourne said,
"I think he meant well. I think he was really quite concerned about whether or not you and I will have time to produce sufficient offspring."
"He seems awfully preoccupied with putting his poor wife through hell and insisting it is heavenly," Victoria said in a bitter, spitting voice. She wrapped her woolen cape more tightly about herself and stared out at the cold drizzle.
"I'm afraid you and I were not able to achieve what your Uncle Leopold asked of us," Melbourne said softly. "We certainly did not make either of them see reason, and I fear we left your cousin Victoria in just as poor a state as we found her."
"Poor in more ways than one," Victoria said sadly. "They are my Uncle Leopold's concern now. I have much to occupy me at home."
"Not least of which is your own son," Melbourne said warmly. "William will be so very glad to se his Mama."
"He'll be far more excited to see you," Victoria smiled. "The Little Lamb will go dashing into your arms, and Sir Robert Peel will come dashing into mine."
Melbourne laughed then, seeming genuinely mirthful in a way he so rarely was. He shook his head a bit and insisted,
"I think you have it quite the other way round. William will cry for his Mama, and I shall find Sir Robert Peel huddled in a corner with fifteen unfinished pieces of legislation for which he requires my opinion."
Now it was Victoria's turn to laugh, and she turned her face from the cold, dismal farmland outside to Melbourne's eyes.
"Ought we have stayed?" She gave him an uncertain look, but he shook his head firmly.
"It was torture, trying to converse with Albert, and I fear the topic of conversation rendered any friendly eveningtime chats entirely out of the question. As for your cousin Victoria, you make it seem as though she rather put up a wall between the two of you at breakfast."
"Quite so." Victoria sighed and jolted when a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. She glanced up through the window and murmured, "I wonder if there will be lightning. I adore lightning."
"Do you?" Melbourne seemed a little amused. "Why?"
"So much power in one little bolt," Victoria whispered, and after another round of thunder, Melbourne said,
"Rather like you, Ma'am. Quite a lot of power in a surprisingly small package."
She grinned at him and swatted his knee. As she started to pull her hand away, Melbourne reached for her fingers and wrapped his around them. Their gloves kept their skin apart, and they were left with leather on leather. But Victoria stared at Melbourne and saw a sudden hungry expression in his green eyes. She shook her head and reminded him,
"If it begins to really storm, they'll stop us at the next village."
"So they will. Let me just look at you, then." The ran outside began to fall harder, and Melbourne locked his eyes onto Victoria's as he said, "How very comfortable it is in here, compared to the tempest that rages outside. Don't you think?"
"Of course," Victoria nodded. "I am always at comfort with you, Lord M, and I am always surrounded by tempests."
She leaned toward him a little, and he did the same. Their faces approached in the centre of the carriage, and once Victoria's lips were against Melbourne's, she whispered,
"You have always been my shelter, Lord M. My refuge."
"Always?" He was teasing her now, tucking her hair behind her ear and cupping her jaw and dragging his lips over hers.
"Since the day I first met you," she said. She thought of her cousins, of the one who had been deceived into thinking her misery was her destiny, of the one who thought he was loving his wife by putting her through hell. Then she pulled back a little and stared at Lord Melbourne, at her Prince Consort, and she whispered, "You have protected me since the moment you first kissed my hand."
He picked up her gloved hand in his then, bringing her knuckles to his lips. His green eyes glittered as he kissed her there, and he informed her,
"We protect one another, you and I. And I am grateful for it, Ma'am."
"Are you?" Victoria squeezed his hand a little, and he nodded.
"Profoundly grateful, Ma'am."
It was warmer on the voyage back to England. The sea was far calmer, and Victoria did not feel at all ill the way she'd felt on the voyage to Germany. One morning, she stood outside in a woolen cloak, just enough to cut out the wind, and she stared up at the way the smokestack puffed black against the azure sky.
"It is a marvel of a yacht, I must say."
She glanced down at the sound of Melbourne's voice, and she smiled to see that he'd dressed elegantly and had a top hat on. She liked him when he was all done up like this, but, then, she'd liked him the night before when he'd been rumpled in bed, too.
"You missed breakfast," she chastised him, and Melbourne sighed a little, his jovial mood dissipating visibly.
"I'm afraid I was feeling a little unwell, Victoria."
She frowned. "How so?"
"Weakness on my left side," he said, and it was only then that she realised he had a walking stick with him, a slick black creation upon which he now seemed to be leaning quite heavily. Victoria scowled and demanded,
"When did this begin? You seemed fine in Coburg; you certainly seemed fine last night."
He smirked a little and nodded, glancing about the deck to ensure that no one was closely listening.
"I am having difficulty making a fist, bending the elbow. It is nothing, really, and I am sorry both for you and for my stomach that I missed breakfast."
"That is not nothing," Victoria hissed, stepping closer to him. She seized his left arm in her hands, taking his fingers and forcing them open and shut. He felt a little limp beneath her, and he insisted again,
"Really, Ma'am... it is nothing. Perhaps I slept with my weight awkwardly on the arm."
"You slept on your back," she reminded him, "with me curled up against you. I would know; I was there."
"So you were." His face began to falter, the facade of wellness he'd plastered on crackling as he admitted, "When I woke and you were already dressing, I could not quite place where we were. Brocket Hall, I thought, or Melbourne Hall. I knew it was not Buckingham Palace. It was only when I heard the slapping of the waves outside the wall that I finally remembered we were aboard a ship."
"Lord M." She shook her head and squeezed at his hand. "We must get you to the doctors at once."
"Well, they are waiting for us in London," Melbourne pointed out, but Victoria hissed,
"We can not wait until London for this! We must see a local doctor as soon as we -"
"I do not think that is wise," he interrupted her. When she opened her mouth to protest, he said carefullly, "It was one thing, Victoria, for the people to pray and think fondly of the Prince Consort during one bout of illness. If they know I have any recurring symptoms, they will start to speak of me dying. You do not want that for yourself, I promise."
"For myself?" Victoria's eyes seared like fire, and she assured him, "I want you well. That is all. I want you to see doctors."
"They would bleed me with leeches and order rest, which is precisely what the London doctors will do. And, in any case, I can not bear to prolong our absence away from the Little Lamb."
"We are going back much sooner than expected," Victoria reminded him. Melbourne seemed frustrated then, and he licked his lips carefully as he gazed out upon the sapphire water.
"I will not leave you yet, Ma'am," he said quietly. "I am old, but not so old as that. I have been ill, but not so ill as that. I lack the capacity, I think, for a proper farewell. Please try not to worry over me. My arm is a bit useless this morning; I am a bit forgetful today. It is nothing, and if either of us makes it into something, I fear we are both lost."
"So I am to pretend that you are fine when you very evidently are not?" Victoria snapped, and Melbourne let out a very long breath, taking his green eyes from the water and putting them on Victoria's face.
"Do you remember, Ma'am, after the incident with Flora Hastings, what I told you?"
She nodded, fighting back tears as she recalled, "You told me to go out there and smile and not to let them know how difficult it is to bear. But you meant the embarrassment, the pressure of being queen. This is entirely different; you are asking me to ignore the medical reality that plagues my husband."
"I am asking you to keep on sailing to England, and then to get in a carriage to London," he corrected her, "because, really, there is nothing else to do. Now that I think on it, I find my left arm is doing better than ever, and that I know not only that we are aboard a ship, but that I could place us on a map."
He smiled a little, but Victoria did not smile back.
"You ought to go eat something, Lord M," she said softly, "seeing as how you missed breakfast."
Then she walked away, striding down the deck and leaving him standing in the sun.
"Oh, William. I could play with you all evening, but you must take your bath," Victoria said, dragging the carved wooden carriage along the rug. William toddled over and tossed a small wooden block at her face, and though Emma Portman gasped a little, Victoria laughed and told her son,
"Lady Emma tells me you throw absolutely everything now, and that you figured how to do it just in the time Mama was gone."
"Mama!" His voice was clear and ringing, and when she handed him the block again, he promptly tossed it. He giggled then, and Victoria joined him, and she said to Emma,
"How I loathe leaving him again, after so many days gone. But I must go see what the doctors told Lord M."
Emma Portman strode over and sat on the divan behind little William. She handed him a softer toy, a little star of fabric that had been stuffed like a pillow. William threw that, too, but at least it did little damage. Emma asked Victoria gently,
"Did it worsen, Ma'am? From the time you were aboard the yacht until you got here?"
"He can't really use his left arm at all," Victoria said regretfully, "and more than once I said his name whilst he stared out the window and he ignored me. I think he is not being truthful with me about the severity of his symptoms. I pray he has been far more truthful with his doctors."
"If I know him, and I'd like to think I do," Emma said carefully, "he will do absolutely everything he can to stay here and stay well for you and for his son. He knows the hubris, I think, in feigning good health when it might cost him time with his family to do so."
"I hope you're right," Victoria sighed. She picked up the little stuffed star and passed it back to William, and it was immediately thrown back in her face. She laughed again, just a little, but William's laughter was raucous. He could stand unaided now, though forward progress still evaded him. Suddenly it occurred to Victoria that if Melbourne did not quickly regain use of his left arm, he would be unable to pick up and hold his Little Lamb. That would not do at all. She played with little William's wispy brown hair and studied his wide green eyes, reading Lord M all over the child's face, and she told him,
"You be good for Lady Emma and don't dare throw the bathwater the way you've been throwing everything else, Little Lamb."
"Mama!" He tossed his hands up in the air, and Emma smiled,
"It is difficult to scold him when he is so very precious, isn't it, Ma'am?"
"Difficult indeed," Victoria agreed. She leaned to kiss William's forehead, and she glanced up to Emma as she rose from the ground. "How grateful I am that he has you during all my work and these troubles with Lord M. I am only glad we did not stay in Germany for long. I couldn't have stood it, I don't think - being away from him for weeks and weeks."
"He did ask for you," Emma told her. "I would not have told you if I thought it would have saddened you, but... more than once he pointed frantically at the door and asked for his Mama."
"Oh." Victoria felt very emotional then, and she nodded. "I am glad you've told me. That... it hurts and helps all at once. Goodnight, sweet William. Mama will feed you your porridge in the morning. Goodnight, Emma."
"Goodnight, Ma'am." Emma curtsied, and as Victoria walked quickly from the room, she could hear Emma saying,
"Your Highness, I fear it is bath time! Oh, I know you loathe it, but we must all be clean, mustn't we?"
"Well?"
Victoria watched as Melbourne struggled to climb into the bed. She did not help him, for she wanted to witness for herself the extend of his problems. She realised he could not lean on his left arm for support, and he looked pathetic trying to heave himself upward. Finally Victoria reached for his right arm and gave him leverage to pull himself up. He huffed as he pushed his legs beneath the blankets, and as he leaned back against the pillows, he said quietly,
"There is damage, and it is only making itself known now."
"Damage," Victoria repeated. "What sort of damage?"
"They do not suppose I had a separate attack," Melbourne said, his eyes locked on the painting above the fireplace. His fingers picked at the blanket, and he told her, "The brain works, in many ways, like other organs. Just as a man might have an attack of the heart and suffer effects thereafter, it may be that the brain itself has undergone some sort of shift, that it has endured damage."
"Will you be able to use your left arm again?" Victoria demanded, perhaps a bit too harshly. "Will the damage come and go, or is it permanent?"
"They can not say." Melbourne twitched the fingers of his left hand as if to show Victoria that he could do that much, and he pursed his lips. "Full movement might come back, as it did before, or it might be gone. I write with my left hand."
"You ride with both hands," Victoria said, and Melbourne immediately countered.
"I needn't ride anymore. I'm old enough to excuse myself from that as an activity. Carriages are much more comfortable."
Victoria growled in irritation. "You hold William with both hands. You dance with me using both hands."
He was silent then, and his throat bobbed as he promised her, "I will do the prescribed exercises daily. The doctor says he will meet with me weekly to assess progress or..."
"Or further damage," Victoria completed. She wanted to cry then, but she knew she must not. She pulled his left hand into her lap and stroked at his wrist, at his fingers and palm. "William needs you. I need you."
"I think I need you both far more than you need me," argued Melbourne, "but nevertheless, I shall do my very best not to go anywhere. I shall do my best to dance with you next month, Victoria."
"Next month." She'd forgotten entirely about her own birthday until just now. Of course there would be a party, and a small ball with dancing. Her heart ached at the thought of him not sweeping her into his arms. He shut his eyes now and nodded.
"I have a goal, which the doctor insists is of great help. My goal is to dance with you for your birthday, Ma'am. And to remember well on the morning of what an important day it is."
"Oh, Lord M." Victoria caressed his fingers with hers, breathing a little sigh of relief when he partially wrapped his large hand round her small one. She raised her eyes to his and waited until he turned his face to look at her with a serious expression. She nodded and said firmly, "Next month. We shall dance next month. Do you promise?"
"I promise to try, Ma'am," he said, and Victoria brought his knuckles to her lips. Melbourne waited until she'd kissed him there, and he said again, "I do promise to try."
Author's Note: Whew! Sorry for that long chapter! I had a three hour plane ride today and nothing to do but write. Thanks for reading and for any feedback!