Victoria took a bite of suckling pig and chewed it. She listened as Harriet Sutherland and Emma Portman discussed a new style of silk that was in vogue for the season. Their husbands laughed at their obsession with fashion, and then Victoria's mother chimed in,
"It does a woman well to focus on her appearance. It is a form of discipline, I think, to look one's best."
"Quite right." Lord Portman raised his glass of wine. There was quiet then, until Victoria asked,
"Lord Melbourne, has the hullabaloo over stamps calmed down?"
Melbourne licked his lips and gave her a little smile. "Yes, Ma'am. We've moved on to ironmongering."
"Thrilling," deadpanned the Queen's mother. She put a bite of suckling pig into her own mouth, and Victoria felt cross as she set down her knife and fork. Everyone else set down their cutlery when the monarch did. The next course was dessert - rice pudding with cinnamon. As Victoria spooned some into her mouth, she eyed Melbourne and let a new conversation take over the table.
"Lord M," she said, just loudly enough for him to hear, "will you stay after dinner?"
"Of course, Ma'am," Melbourne said, looking surprised. "Is all well?"
"I'd like to speak with you," Victoria said tightly. His pale eyes flashed, but he nodded and said,
"Of course, Your Majesty."
After dinner, Victoria rose and made her way out of the dining room. Her ladies followed her, and she turned round and told them,
"I shan't be needing you this evening, ladies. I will be on my own. Thank you."
They all descended into deep curtsies and turned to go in the other direction, and Victoria gnashed her teeth a little. She curled her hands against one another and waited in the corridor, pacing like a caged dog. Finally the figure of Lord Melbourne appeared, and he tugged at the bottom hem of his waistcoat as he walked towards her. He bowed his head a little and said,
"You have need of me, Ma'am?"
She shivered at that. He didn't realise, she thought, what sort of need she had. He didn't know that she wanted him instead of her husband.
"Will you sit with me whilst I draw something, Lord M?" Victoria asked, and Melbourne raised his eyebrows.
"Of course I will."
He walked with her to the large, elaborately decorated space where she always did her drawing. She made her way swiftly to the desk and pulled out a few sheets of drawing paper. She pulled a pencil and a rubber out of a drawer and sat at the desk. She pulled off her gloves and set them aside. She gestured for Melbourne to sit in the armchair near the desk, and as he sank down, he asked gently,
"How have things been, Ma'am?"
Her eyes burned at the question. He cared about her. He cared if she was happy. She blinked a few times and seethed through her teeth. She brought her pencil to her paper and began to sketch a willow tree.
"Things have been… Albert somehow found out that I went to Dover House. He says there will be a scandal if I do it again."
"He may not be wrong about that," Melbourne said softly. "May I ask what you're drawing?"
"The gardens," Victoria whispered. She began filling in the willow tree and shaped its trunk with careful strokes. "I do so enjoy riding out with you, Lord M. In the gardens."
"It's been some time," Melbourne murmured. "I believe the last time you and I rode out together was in the autumn."
"Doesn't it seem like ages ago?" Victoria asked, and she sniffled a little. "Too long."
Melbourne was silent for a long while, and Victoria found herself sketching hedges behind the willow tree.
"I have heard," Melbourne said at last, "that His Royal Highness is afflicted with a cough. I do hope he is all right."
"I've insisted that his doctor examine him." Victoria pinched her lips. "I won't have him ill. He must be in good, strong health."
"Perhaps it is just a cold," Melbourne suggested, and Victoria turned to him.
"That's what he says. It's just a cold."
She turned back to her drawing then, and she sketched the perimeter of a small pond in which she often saw ducks. She added little ripples to the water's surface and shaded it a bit, and then she realised no one had spoken in the room in a very long time. It was quite comfortable, just sitting here with Lord M.
"You must be exhausted. So much happening in the government," Victoria said. She heard Melbourne sigh, and from behind her, he told her,
"Politics are inherently exhausting, Ma'am. I'm not any more tired than I've been for the past few decades. Well. That's not entirely true. These past several nights, I confess to a difficulty with sleep."
"Did you try warm milk?" Victoria asked as she added sketched ducks to her little pond. "When I can't sleep, I find that warmed milk with honey soothes me."
"I tried whiskey," Melbourne said cautiously, "and it didn't work. Perhaps I shall try your honeyed milk."
"What has been keeping you awake?" Victoria asked, and she heard Melbourne's breath shake a little behind her. She stopped sketching and turned round, frowning at him. "What's been troubling you, Lord M?"
He shut his eyes and shook his head. "Memories, Ma'am. Happier times haunting me. That's all."
He must have meant his son, she thought. Or perhaps good times in his marriage to Caroline. Those must have been the happy times he meant. But then he whispered, his eyes still shut.
"Riding out in the gardens. I did not realise the last time would be the last, you understand."
"Oh." Victoria gulped. She vividly recalled the last time she and Lord Melbourne had ridden out alone together. Albert had already come from Coburg, and she and Melbourne had spent the entire ride discussing him. The next time Victoria had ridden out, she'd been with Albert, and Melbourne had not come.
"I made a mistake." Victoria froze with her fingers around her pencil. She set the pencil down and buried her face in her hands.
"I beg your pardon, Ma'am?" Melbourne asked. She turned to look at him, knowing her eyes were going red and welling up. She always seemed to be crying around Lord Melbourne. Why was that? He didn't seem to mind. She chomped her lip hard and then studied his pale eyes, his sharp features, and she told him frankly,
"I was feeling enormous pressure to marry. I did not like the options. So I convinced myself, I think, that I felt something powerful for Albert. I tried to convince myself that he and I would be happy, and by our wedding day, I had managed to make that the truth in my mind."
Melbourne's mouth fell open. He shook his head a little and insisted,
"You two will make one another happy, Ma'am; it's just -"
"No. We will not, because we were married under the pretense of being in love," Victoria said. "There is a problem, however; I have fallen out of love with him."
"Ma'am," Melbourne whispered. His face softened immensely and he tipped his head as he said in a gentle, kind voice, "You and he have been sniping. You've discovered the little things that bother and distract. But I know that you are very fond of him. You will find happiness with him."
"I could have had happiness with you," Victoria choked out, clapping her hand to her mouth as she realised what she'd just said. Melbourne looked positively shocked. He dragged his thumb over his bottom lip and looked away from her as he mumbled,
"I was never, ever an option for you, Your Majesty."
"I could have stayed unwed," she said morosely, "and I could have had nights like these with you… nights of comfortable quiet."
"I am here now," he insisted somewhat breathlessly, but Victoria said,
"Only because my husband is stricken with a cough. You know very well that he would not care for you and I being alone in this room after dinner."
Melbourne shut his eyes. "And he would be correct in thinking it inappropriate. With your leave, Ma'am, I shall go."
"No. You have not got my leave," Victoria snapped. Melbourne stared at her, surprised, but she told him, "I want what you and I had for all that wonderful while. When you were not only my Prime Minister, but my fiercest friend."
"Things are different now," he said desperately, but Victoria flung herself to her feet and snarled,
"I do not wish for things to be different. I have made a mistake."
"It's far too late, Ma'am, to go back to the way things were." Melbourne flew out of his chair when Victoria stood. They faced one another then, and Victoria balled her fists at her sides. She finally whispered to Melbourne,
"Then I regret it. Marrying him."
"Don't say such a thing." Melbourne's brows crumpled. "You were the most beautiful bride, Ma'am, and that day was the beginning of a long life with him."
He walked over towards Victoria and picked up her drawing from the table. He studied it and murmured,
"The willow tree. The ducks. Yes, I know this scene well. You've captured it perfectly, Ma'am."
"Do you think so?"
"Perfectly." Melbourne set the drawing down and turned his eyes to Victoria. He towered above her, and as he looked down into her eyes, she realised they were standing quite near one another. She flashed back, all of a sudden, to the night of her Coronation Ball, when she'd wanted to kiss him, when she'd danced with him.
Boldly, and without hesitation, she reached up and planted a hand flat upon Melbourne's chest. She looked up into his eyes and said quietly,
"I made a mistake."
He blinked, opened his mouth a bit, and shook his head.
"No, Ma'am. You did what you did because your heart and your duty compelled you."
"I could have been happy," she whispered, and he shut his eyes as he told her,
"It couldn't go on forever."
"Lord M," Victoria hummed, and she waited for him to open his eyes. She searched his gaze, and he seemed to be studying her right back. She put her other hand on his chest, and he reached up to wrap his fingers around her wrists. He dragged his thumbs on her inner forearms, making Victoria shiver and making her stomach churn with confusion. Her heart raced as he just stared down at her, and she remembered what he'd asked her on her wedding day.
May I kiss the bride?
He'd placed a chaste kiss upon her cheek, and then she'd run away from him; she'd run off to Albert and had left Melbourne behind.
That had been a mistake.
"Please," she whispered, "kiss me again."
He licked his lips and shook his head. "We both know… that I cannot…"
"Lord M," Victoria repeated softly, tipping her head. "Please."
His throat bobbed beneath his cravat then, and he leaned down and whispered,
"God save me."
His lips brushed against hers for just a moment, and then a crackling sense of need crashed through Victoria's veins. She squeezed her fingers, cinching his shirt and waistcoat, and when he kissed her again, he pressed harder against her mouth. She sucked in air hard through her nose, but before she could kiss him back, he'd pulled away and stood upright. His cheeks were a very dark crimson, and he looked terrified. His hands tightened a little on Victoria's wrists, and after a moment, he lowered their hands and released her. He took a step back and muttered,
"I need to leave, Your Majesty."
"Lord M." Victoria was desperate now. Her breath heaved beneath her corset, and she felt dizzy. She whispered frantically, "That was no mistake."
"I beg Your Majesty to dismiss me for the evening," Melbourne said tightly, "and to ensure the wellbeing of His Royal Highness."
Victoria went cold then. He was rejecting her. After kissing her. She swallowed hard but nodded and told him,
"You have our permission to withdraw, Lord Melbourne. I shall keep you apprised of Albert's health."
"Thank you, Ma'am." Melbourne bowed and backed toward the door, reaching behind himself to open the door and leave. Once he'd gone, Victoria stood alone in the room, staring down at the drawing of the willow tree, remembering the feel of his kiss, and she began to cry harder than she'd cried in a very long while.
Author's Note: Well, we're starting to see some Vicbourne coming out, but they've got a long way to go. And what's up with Albert's health? As always, thank you so very much for reading, and a massive thank you for any feedback.