"I had wanted to host a birthday party for The Countess of Gainsborough, but she said no. Her faith does not allow for such merriment." Victoria sighed where she sat with Emma Portman and Harriet Sutherland in the green drawing room. She was sketching today, a gift for Lord Melbourne. She was drawing a cat, but it wasn't turning out very well. Victoria scowled at the misshapen cat's head as Emma Portman said softly,
"Frances is such a religious young woman, Your Majesty. Evangelical."
"Yes, she is," affirmed Victoria. She sighed and said, "This drawing is atrocious."
"No matter, Ma'am. You draw for your own enjoyment, don't you?" asked Harriet, but Victoria looked to her ladies and said,
"It was intended as a gift for Lord M."
"Oh." Harriet smiled just a little, raising her teacup to her lips. But she eyed Emma Portman, who said warmly,
"William has become such a good friend to you, hasn't he?"
"So he has, Lady Portman," Victoria confirmed. Right on cue, the door to the drawing room opened, and the steward there announced,
"The Right Honourable Lord Melbourne."
"Lord M!" exclaimed Victoria. She flew to her feet, drawing up Emma and Harriet. Melbourne walked in and bowed to Victoria, raising his gaze. There was a strange twinkle in his pale green eyes today, Victoria noticed.
"I have come, Your Majesty, to beseech you to take a stroll with me in the gardens. I have matters of state to discuss with you, Ma'am, but it's so pleasant today, and -"
"Yes," Victoria said urgently. "Yes, a walk sounds lovely. Emma and Harriet, you'll excuse me."
They curtsied and made their way toward the door. As Emma passed Melbourne, she nodded and said softly,
"William."
The door shut behind the ladies, and Melbourne came walking over to Victoria. He picked up her sketch of a cat and smiled.
"Charming," he said, and she knew he wasn't mocking her. She sighed and said,
"His face is asymmetrical. It was meant to be for you."
"Well, I shall gladly accept it," Melbourne said quietly. He folded it carefully and tucked it into the breast pocket of his brown jacket. He patted the pocket and smiled at Victoria. "Thank you."
"Oh, Lord M." Victoria blinked quickly through the tears that had welled in her eyes. "Let us go for our walk. I'll go get gloves, a cloak, and a bonnet."
Fifteen minutes later, she and Lord Melbourne were headed out onto the gardens. Victoria wore a simple dress of lace and cotton, and she wondered if she looked anything like a queen today. But Melbourne kept looking over at her with a flash in his eyes, and she finally whispered to him,
"I've missed you."
"For three days, Ma'am?"
"Of course," Victoria scoffed. "I always miss you when I don't see you. Now, you said there were matters of state to discuss."
"Yes." Melbourne sighed as he walked alongside Victoria. "As you know, Ma'am, there have been rebellions in Lower Canada."
"Because of the Russell Resolutions," Victoria confirmed.
"Yes. Well, I have to take certain responsibility for all of this." Melbourne huffed a breath. Victoria frowned at him, and he admitted, "It was my government that rejected all of Papineau's requests. We said no to everything they wanted - the Ninety-Two Resolutions. They called for legislative change, but the issue was that what they wanted simply didn't fit within the boundaries of the British Constitution. We couldn't give them what they wanted. Even if we could have… they're colonists. They couldn't have more than Britons living here. In any case…"
He trailed off, and Victoria stared up at him. "It's not your fault, Lord M. You did your duty to your country. If they've rebelled because of it, well. My grandfather saw the Americans revolt."
"And he lost them," Melbourne said warily. "I admit to being nervous about the situation in Lower Canada, especially because the protests have now spread to Upper Canada."
"They have?" Victoria fretted. "What's happening? Is this like Haiti, like Ireland?"
"No, Ma'am; those rebellions had republicanism at their core. These Canadians swear fealty to you; they rebel because of policy. My policy."
"William Lyon Mackenzie recently published a pamphlet calling for 'independence,'" Melbourne said worriedly. He let out a trembling breath and said, "There will be military conflicts."
"I will pray for my soldiers and sailors," Victoria said softly.
"Given the seriousness of the conflict in Lower Canada, along with support for the rebels from the United States," said Melbourne, "I do think this is something to be taken very seriously. I shall keep you apprised of ongoing developments. It is certainly at the top of the docket for the government."
"If there's no more to hear about it, I should like to talk about something happier," said Victoria as they walked alongside the trees. "It troubles me greatly to hear of Canada."
"Of course, Ma'am. I don't mean to trouble you." Melbourne let out a little breath and said, "I encountered Sir John Conroy on my way to the green sitting room."
"Well, that does not sound happy," Victoria complained, and Melbourne laughed a little.
"I do apologise for calling your son an imbecile, he said. It was most uncouth, even if the boy was empty of mind."
"That is not exactly a proper apology," Victoria pointed out, and Melbourne raised his eyebrows and shrugged.
"Probably the closest I'd ever get from a man like Sir John."
"You don't like him," Victoria guessed, and Melbourne chuckled again.
"I confess I do not. But I suspect your sentiments towards him are equally unenthusiastic."
"On the contrary, Lord M. I enthusiastically despise Sir John," said Victoria. "I wish he and Mama would live at Kensington Palace whilst I live here. I have them on the opposite side of the palace, and still it is not far enough. I do not want them near me."
"Because they treated you poorly," Melbourne said in a soft voice, and Victoria tossed her hands up. Her breath clouded in the air before her as she puffed and said,
"They kept me stupid and lonely, and all because they were scheming to have power removed from me once I came to the throne. They are hideously aspirational. I remember Feodora telling them to let me play with other children. I remember Lehzen telling them to let me study more vigorously. But instead I had no friends at all and was given the most basic of educations."
"Well, you have overcome all of it, Ma'am," Melbourne asserted. "Your ladies are your good friends now, aren't they? Emma Portman speaks so highly of you on a personal level. I know you care for the others. And you are anything but stupid, Your Majesty. In fact, I find you to be steadfast and self-possessed. If they tried to make you reliant on them, they have failed. You are your own Queen."
Victoria's eyes burned at the compliment. She stopped walking then and turned towards Melbourne. They were very far away from the palace now, and she murmured gently,
"Will you come over here, Lord M?"
She walked towards the trees at the edge of the path, glancing back to the palace and being sure no one could see them. She pulled back against a tree and gestured for Melbourne to walk to her. He looked about cautiously and then finally stepped up to Victoria. He instantly reached for Victoria's cheek, cupping it in his leather-gloved hand. His top hat fell forward a little as he bent down and brushed his lips against Victoria's.
He hadn't even asked to kiss her, she realised. He had known what she wanted. He had known that she wanted to be kissed. And he clearly wanted it, too, for he pressed his lips harder against hers. They were cold, the both of them, but Victoria hummed onto his mouth,
"More, please."
"More what, Ma'am?" Melbourne asked, and Victoria shook her head.
"I don't know."
"Would you like a better kiss, Your Majesty?" Melbourne's breath felt so hot on Victoria's chilled lips. A better kiss? What did that mean? Victoria gulped. She nodded, and Melbourne tipped his head to the right. Victoria did the same and let her lips part in wonder as Melbourne touched his mouth to hers again. This time, she felt him lick at her bottom lip, and she gasped. She held tightly onto the lapels of his warm coat, and he licked her lip again.
Victoria realised that the better kiss involved tongues, and she hesitantly pushed her own tongue between Melbourne's lips. He suckled gently on her tongue, shocking her, and she moaned on instinct. Her hands flew from his coat up to his face, holding his cheeks beneath her gloves. He nibbled at her lip and then swept his tongue into her mouth, and Victoria mimicked the slight sucking he'd done earlier. She was learning, she thought, just what a real kiss was. Was this how lovers kissed? She liked it.
"Ma'am." Melbourne broke away from her and stared at her, his eyes glittering. His breath huffed, and he murmured, "Oh, I ought not to have done that."
"Do it again," Victoria begged him. "Please kiss me like that again."
Melbourne moved his face again, kissing Victoria so deeply that she couldn't breathe. Her head scraped the bark of the tree behind her, and her hands compressed on Melbourne's cheeks. He sucked and pushed and pulled and nibbled, and Victoria started to lose herself. She slumped down a little, and then Melbourne moved his hands to help hold her up. One of his hands went to her waist, and the other between her shoulders. He pulled her closer, up onto her tiptoes, and he kissed her more fervently than ever. By the time the kiss ended, Victoria was utterly breathless and felt damp heat between her legs. Confused and wanting more and more, she stroked at Melbourne's cheek and whispered,
"I've never felt anything like that."
"Do you know, Ma'am… neither have I." Melbourne's breath quavered terribly as he released Victoria and let her down onto the ground. "We should walk back, I think. We've lingered long enough."
Lord Melbourne did not come for dinner that night, for he had to discuss the Canada situation with other members of the House of Lords. During the soup course, Victoria found herself distracted with worries about Canada, and even more distracted by the memories of kissing Lord M, of feeling like she'd been lit aflame. She set down her spoon early, and the course of baked cod was brought out. Victoria sighed and looked up to see her mother staring right at her.
"Drina," the Duchess of Kent said sharply, "I hear you walked out alone with Lord Melbourne for nearly an hour today."
"We ride out often," Victoria said defensively. "Today we went on foot."
"It is scarcely appropriate for you to spend so much time alone in the company of a man like Lord Melbourne," sniffed Sir John Conroy.
"Oh, you mean my Prime Minister and my Private Secretary?" Victoria raised her eyebrows. "That Lord Melbourne?"
"What could possibly necessitate so much time alone with him?" demanded the Duchess, and Lehzen looked like she sensed trouble. She glared at Flora Hastings, whom she despised, and asked,
"Lady Flora, was it you I saw in the gardens earlier today? Perhaps you were on a walk of your own."
Spying on Victoria. She let out an uneasy, shaking breath and pressed Lady Flora,
"Were you following us?"
"No, Your Majesty. I simply desired some nice, brisk air," said Lady Flora defensively. "I did see you walk toward the trees with Lord Melbourne; I do hope everything was all right."
Victoria's blood ran cold. She cleared her throat and said,
"Lord M was telling me all about the situation in Canada. It is a horrid conflict there, you understand. We pulled aside from our walk so that he could give me more details about the rebellions."
"Details," said Sir John Conroy tightly. "Yes, Lord Melbourne is very accustomed to giving women - married and unmarried - details."
"What exactly are you intimating, Sir John?" Victoria spat, and Flora Hastings cut in,
"Ma'am, the Mrs. Melbourne sobriquet has spread from the Whigs to the Tories and back again. My brother says -"
"I don't care what your brother says," Victoria cut in. "Let us finish eating."
Emma Portman and Harriet Sutherland looked completely abashed as the meal carried on. Finally, during dessert, Victoria set down her fork and cleared her throat.
"Mama, I was thinking that it would be better for you to live at Kensington Palace. You would have the place to yourself. I will grant you an allowance, and you will have a household."
"That sounds terribly expensive," protested Sir John Conroy. "The Duchess being in residence at a separate palace seems not only cruel and unnecessary, but also terrifically costly. I don't imagine Parliament would take kindly to a request for funds."
"They will give me the money," Victoria said confidently. "I think it would be far better if you and Sir John and Lady Flora were in Kensington, Mama."
The Duchess of Kent looked wounded. She bowed her head and said,
"You've been keeping me on the far side of the palace. It is obvious you do not want my company."
"I simply wish for independence," said Victoria, "which neither you nor Sir John granted me these past years."
"Then you would banish me from Court?" the Duchess seemed on the verge of tears. "Your own mother?"
"Unless Sir John decides to leave on his own," Victoria said primly, "in which case I should think it would be fine for you to stay here."
"Then your grievance is with me," Sir John said, pushing back his chair a little and glaring at Victoria. "Your Majesty, you behave childishly. You take offence at the way we raised you -"
"It was never your duty to raise me, Sir John," Victoria said quite sharply. She began to raise her voice. "You tried to be a father to me, because my own dear Papa had gone, but instead of fathering me, you terrorised me. You stifled me. You tried to keep me ignorant and weak for your own aims."
Sir John tipped his head and scoffed. He touched his napkin to his lips and asked quietly,
"Is this all because of what I said of Lord Melbourne's son?"
"What you said of…" Victoria trailed off. She felt such rage coursing through her that she shook where she sat. "Sir John, you are no longer welcome at dinner. You, either, Mama. Nor you, Lady Flora. You will, the three of you, keep to yourselves. I will not be spied upon, nor insulted, any longer. Your system of oppression is over. It is done. Excuse me; I have finished my meal."
She flew to her feet and stalked out of the dining room. She walked without ceasing until she reached her personal apartments, and she walked right up to her desk. She sat down and pulled out a sheet of paper, dipping a pen into some ink.
Lord M, she wrote,
I got into a terrible fight with Sir John Conroy, my mother, and Lady Flora Hastings. I need advice, Lord M. How do I rid this palace of the scourge of this trio? How do I avail myself of them? Help me, Lord M. I cannot abide them any longer, and not only because they were cruel to the both of us. They are wretched, the three of them, and I simply can stand it no longer. So tell me what to do, as you so often do, that I might steer the ship rightly. Respond tonight, Lord M. I require your advice now.
Victoria R.
Author's Note: Well, that kiss was much deeper, wasn't it? And we got to see Lord M being the mentor Victoria needs. But how will he advise her about Sir John, and what will happen the next few times they're alone together?
Thank you so very much for reading. Your feedback is valued like gold.