"Her Majesty the Queen."
Melbourne rose to his feet along with everyone else at the dinner table. The double doors were flung open, and in walked Victoria, wearing a beautiful gown of crimson taffeta. She nodded as her chair was pulled out, and as she sank down, her skirts billowed about her. She folded her hands on the table's edge and bowed her head, saying sincerely,
"May the Lord make us truly grateful for the food before us. May He keep Prince Albert safe at Windsor. Amen."
"Amen," incanted everyone else. Melbourne watched then as servants came into the room in crisp uniforms, placing bowls of asparagus soup before each diner. Everyone waited in silent stillness until Victoria picked up her spoon and took a bite. Then they all tucked in, and Victoria said gently to Melbourne,
"Good evening, Lord M."
"Good evening, Your Majesty." He met her eyes and just stared for a moment. She was so very beautiful, he thought. He wanted nothing more than to hold her face in his hands and kiss her right now, like he'd done earlier.
"I find I have worked up quite an appetite today," Victoria pronounced, and Melbourne smirked a little.
"Then you must eat to your heart's content."
"To my heart's content," she repeated, a glow coming over her face. She gazed right at Melbourne, and he knew what she was thinking. Albert had scolded her for eating too much. He had told her she would become fat, and therefore undesirable, and Victoria had moderated herself. She'd denied herself the pleasure of food because Albert had told her that she would get fat and ugly. Now she spooned soup into her mouth with gusto, and Melbourne found himself smiling a little. The next course was fried fish, and then there was roast chicken with potatoes. Victoria ate all of it as though she were starving, and meanwhile her ladies chatted quietly down the table.
"Drina," said a voice sharply, "I had thought you had given up your childish overeating."
Melbourne paused with his glass of wine in his hand and looked to where the Duchess of Kent was somewhat glaring at her daughter. Victoria swallowed her bite of chicken and propped her knife and fork on the table.
"I am hungry, Mama, and therefore I shall eat. I will not be told what I am allowed to consume."
"It is a disappointment," The Duchess mewled. "That is all."
"Well, by all means, do be disappointed," Victoria said quietly. A heavy silence came over the table then, as everyone seemed to realise the queen and her mother had something to discuss in private. And this was not private.
"A message, Your Majesty."
A page walked into the dining room and approached the head of the table. Victoria's lips fell open as the page held out a silver platter with a folded letter upon it. Victoria plucked the letter off the tray and then read it, and after a moment, she murmured to the page,
"I shall write back momentarily."
"Yes, Ma'am." The page bowed and backed away from Victoria, who cleared her throat and said,
"If you will all excuse me, I have received a message from Windsor which commands my immediate attention. You have my permission to finish dessert in my absence."
She rose, and so did everyone else. Melbourne scowled as he stood and watched Victoria leave. He felt sick to his stomach, knowing that she had received some sort of message about Albert. What had they done, Melbourne wondered? Just what had he done to Victoria against the wall at Dover House?
He had tried to put an heir upon the monarch. He had tried to give her the ability to claim a child as Albert's so that, if the prince died, the queen would not be forced into a loveless union just for procreation. But it had been so much more than that. They'd called one another by their names. They'd affectionately touched one another's faces and had felt ecstasy with each other. It had been so much, and now she was fleeing the room with a message about her husband in her hand.
"Pardon me," Melbourne said to the rest of the table. He needed to follow her, he thought. He bowed to the others and said, "As Prime Minister, I think I ought to… excuse me."
He'd stumbled, he knew, but he set his napkin down just the same and stalked to the doorway of the dining room. He needed to follow her and find out what was going on.
"Your Majesty," he called, once he was out in the corridor. Victoria whirled around, her scarlet skirts swishing, and she appeared to be crying.
"Lord M," she said tightly, and as he approached her, she held out the letter in her hands. He took it from her and read.
The condition of His Royal Highness has deteriorated rapidly. We write to inform Her Majesty of the Prince's grave condition.
His eyes scanned down the rest of the note, in which the physicians told Victoria that Albert's cough had worsened considerably and that he was now mad with fever.
"He will die," Victoria whispered frantically. "He's going to leave me."
"He… he may…" Melbourne pinched his lips into a tight line and said at last, "God save His Royal Highness."
Victoria woke knowing that her plans to bring Melbourne into her chambers today were not going to work. She sat at her dressing table as Skerrett braided her hair, and she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Albert was dying. She needed to have a child put on her, and quickly, or else the country would demand a new marriage as soon as Albert was gone.
"Miss Skerrett," she said, and the servant bowed her head in the mirror's reflection.
"Ma'am?"
"Albert, before he became quite ill, found out that I had gone to Dover House on my own. I wonder how he knew that."
Skerrett's face seemed alarmed then, as if she were being accused of something. Victoria clarified,
"I mean to say, I wonder how it is that he came to find out about a solitary, incognito voyage to visit the Prime Minister. Have you any idea how Albert might have found that out? I do not at all mean to accuse."
"Well, Your Majesty," said Skerrett, lowering her eyes, "there's people who will gladly give up what they see for a price, or at a command."
"For a price, or at a command." Victoria turned a little as Skerrett pushed the final pins into her hair. "Would these same people keep secrets, if paid or ordered?"
"Secrets are more difficult, I should think," Skerrett said, "but I hope Your Majesty knows that I am loyal to you, and if there is ever anything you should need to… you know…"
"Thank you, Miss Skerrett," Victoria nodded. "No jewels today. Not with Albert as ill as he is."
"Of course, Ma'am." Skerrett stepped back, and Victoria rose from her chair. She walked out through her rooms and into the grand drawing room where her desk was. She noticed her box was already on the desk, and when she opened it, she found page after page of letters sending their concern and prayer for Prince Albert. Victoria chewed her lip and wondered if she ought not just go to Windsor. How contagious could Albert possibly be?
The door opened then, but before the page could announce her, Victoria's mother came blustering into the room.
"Drina," said the Duchess of Kent, striding into the space. Victoria stiffened, still stung from the way her mother had scolded her at dinner the night before. Now her mother looked distraught, and she said,
"Drina, they have not told you yet."
"Told me what?" Victoria frowned. "What do you know that I do not?"
"He is… he is gone, Victoria." The Duchess broke into wild tears then. "Your beloved Albert has died."
"What?" Victoria flew to her feet and then immediately sat down again in shock. "What do you mean, he has died? So very quickly?"
"They suppose he had the disease for a long time before he became so ill," said the Duchess of Kent through her tears. "He choked on his own blood; his lungs failed him early this morning at Windsor. Das ist so eine Tragödie. Was für ein beklagenswerter Verlust des schönen Lebens. Ich bin mit gebrochenem Herzen für dich, meine kleine Tochter."
"English, Mama," Victoria scolded, somehow having the presence of mind in all of this to know that German ought not be spoken at the English court. She blinked a few times and realised she should cry. She should feel distraught. Instead she felt afraid. Indeed, the Duchess took a few steps towards Victoria's desk and said cautiously,
"You are not with child, are you?"
"It is… too early to tell," Victoria said, somewhat truthfully. She blinked again, willing herself to cry. Finally her eyes seared, as she thought of happier times with Albert. She thought of him charming her when they rode out, of him kissing her in the trees. And she finally cried a little, swiping at her tears and mumbling,
"I need Lord M."
"Lord Melbourne's presence is not the slightest bit appropriate right now," hissed the Duchess of Kent, but Victoria sniffed and said,
"The husband of the monarch has died. I need my Prime Minister."
The Duchess' face hardened. She rubbed at her own tears and said, "I shall see to it that they send for him, since it is a matter of politics."
"Thank you for telling me, Mama." Victoria spat the words. She would have much preferred to have learnt about this from -
"The Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne."
The door opened, and the page outside called out to announce Melbourne, who came rushing into the room. He froze when he saw the Duchess of Kent, and he licked his lips, bowing respectfully.
"Lord M." Victoria choked out his name, feeling quite emotional at the sight of him. He had mud on his boots; he'd ridden here quickly from Dover House, it seemed.
"Your Majesty," he said to Victoria, "my most heartfelt condolences on this unimaginable loss."
"You were trying to get here to tell her yourself," said the Duchess in an accusatory voice. Melbourne scowled.
"It is not a contest, I do not think, to deliver the news of a young man's death to his loving wife."
"I shall leave you two to discuss the politics of this," said the Duchess of Kent. She walked over to Victoria and planted a kiss on either cheek. She stared down at the queen and said softly, "My beautiful daughter, left utterly bereft. I know this pain. I pity you terribly. I shall pray for you both - for you and for Albert."
"Thank you, Mama," Victoria whispered. Her mother turned and brushed past Melbourne on her way out of the room. The door shut, and Melbourne stood staring at Victoria. She did not rise, nor give him her hand. Instead she murmured,
"Let's sit together."
"Sit together," Melbourne repeated, and Victoria nodded. She stood, and she watched Melbourne tighten up. His hands clenched before him, and he said, "I should not have done to you what I did."
"For all you know, nothing came of it," Victoria said, walking past him to the divan. She sank down and stared into the unlit fireplace and said in a droll voice, "He'll barely be cold before they're crying out for me to marry again."
"On the contrary, Ma'am," Melbourne said, and he said beside her on the divan. He met her eyes and told her, "They will give you time to grieve him, and you are so young. There will be space, in all of this, for the country to mourn His Royal Highness before any demands are made of you."
"But those demands will eventually be made."
"Victoria," whispered Melbourne, "I can not continue on with you now. Your husband is dead."
"What if I am already with your child?" Victoria demanded. "What if you put a child on me up against a wall in Dover House?"
Melbourne tipped his head, his eyes rimming red. "Then that child will be the son or daughter of Prince Albert."
"But you will never be with me again?" Victoria reached for his hand, which he pulled away.
"Now is certainly not the time to… Victoria, you know that I…" He trailed off then, staring into her eyes with a mournful gaze. He reached to cup her jaw in his palm, and he whispered, "You know that I love you."
Her breath hitched then, and she began to cry in earnest. She burrowed her fists into her eyes and shook her head. She thought of Brocket Hall, when he'd cracked her heart into a thousand pieces by so thoroughly rejecting her.
"No, William; I did not know that."
"Well, now you know, Ma'am," he said quietly. "We sinned terribly once, and your husband is with God, and I am in love with you."
Victoria heaved as she began to sob. She was wracked with confusion. She'd only known Albert for a brief time, but it had been long enough to convince herself that she loved him. And now he was gone. There would be a funeral, and mourning, and Victoria would be expected to be horrifically aggrieved about the loss of Albert.
But then there was Lord M. Her Lord M, who apparently loved her. He loved her.
You know that I love you.
She lowered her fists and bared her reddened, streaked eyes to him. He appeared on the verge of tears himself, and he said,
"I grieve with you, Victoria."
"I love you," she whispered. He shut his eyes and sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. Then he murmured,
"I mourn him with you. I am here as a shoulder to cry upon, as a rock of stability for you, but I can never again do anything like -"
"But we are in love, you and I," Victoria confirmed. "So when they make me marry again, it must be you, mustn't it?"
"No." He looked right at her and shook his head. "No, it could never be me. I am no prince."
"William, save me," she said desperately. "Come here late tonight. To this room."
"On the day your husband has died?" hissed Melbourne. He shook his head wildly. "I could never…"
"I need you to give me an heir to the throne," Victoria said in a shaking voice. But Melbourne released her hand and said,
"I tried. One time. If it is meant to be, then once will be enough. And I shall always treasure that one time."
"I am afraid," Victoria admitted, "of what will become of me. Of us."
"Us," Melbourne scoffed. "Ma'am, there is no us. There could never be an us, not with me so very lowly and you the monarch of this nation."
"But I am in love with you, and you are in love with me," Victoria said, tipping her head.
"The most pressing matter at hand, Ma'am, is the loss of Prince Albert," said Melbourne. "I must go to the House of Lords at once to discuss the issue, and you must meet with the Archbishop to make funeral arrangements."
"Yes, of course." Victoria lowered her eyes. "I'm scarcely even thinking of Albert in all of this. How selfish and childish of me."
"You are afraid, as you yourself said," Melbourne sighed. He stroked at her jaw and leaned forward, kissing her lips carefully. "Know that I shall adore you through all of what is to come. Now, I really must go."
"Of course." Victoria rose, and Melbourne pushed himself up to stand.
"I really am so very sorry, Your Majesty," he said sincerely, and Victoria felt fresh tears well as she nodded and said,
"Thank you, Lord M."
Author's Note: Hm. Now there's a real pickle. Did Victoria conceive during the wall-sex? If she didn't, how long until she's pressured to marry again? What will Albert's funeral and all the mourning look like? Ominous music.
Thank you so very, very much for reviewing.