Disclaimer: J K Rowling presented seven years of a school which was supposed to have existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the canon books. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but a few family names and a location or two, but those are from Rowling's books. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence.
My parameters for what constitutes canon are defined at the end of chapter one.
Chapter 10 – All's Well that Ends Well
The sound of birds awakened Kitty. Still groggy from a poor night's sleep it took the young woman a minute to remember where she was and how she came to be in Mr. Prewett's room. She tried to move without disturbing him which was, of course, impossible.
"Wha..." he mumbled.
"I fell asleep last night," she whispered, "after I came in to talk with you."
He yawned, "How are you feeling?"
"A little better... Thanks."
"It was– You need to get back to your room. I'll check the hallway to insure no one's about."
"Yes... Thank you."
"And Miss Kestrel is really gone?"
"She was last night, as I told you. I wouldn't have disturbed you if she were present."
"And even her clothes were gone?"
"I don't remember exactly what I said," she snapped, "I'm tired and–"
"Sorry, sorry," he apologized. "I know you're upset."
"No, I'm sorry," she answered. "After all you've done for me I should... I'm tired."
"Yes, well, let's not add damaging your reputation to the things I've done for you. I doubt the Slopers are upstairs this early and house elves should remain silent. Let me make certain Mr. Malfoy or Claudius isn't moving about." He waved her behind the door and opened it to look out into the hall. Seeing no one he gestured to her that it was safe to leave.
As Kitty left she impulsively gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and whispered, "Thank you," before slipping down the hall toward her own room.
He stared at her departing form and softly touched the spot where her lips had touched his face. Matthias crawled into bed. He was still exhausted from interrupted sleep and spending most the night upright on the settee, but his mind whirled with too many thoughts for him to achieve the slumber he desired and after a half hour of restless turning he surrendered to consciousness and dressed for breakfast.
Titus Malfoy questioned his own resolve to avoid spending time with Miss Kestrel. Perhaps, even though she had been told there was no need to accompany him, she would go out with him and surprise him with another picnic lunch.
Vivien was not at the breakfast table. He thought nothing of it, being instead focused on the fact that Mr. Prewett looked haggard, as if he had slept poorly or not at all. "What's wrong? Are you feeling ill?"
"Miss Kelly was attacked last night."
"What?"
"She went out to the stables to check on the horses before retiring. Clarence–"
"Clarence?"
"He came back. When Miss Kelly–"
"How is she?"
"Badly shaken. She–"
"I'll find him," Mr. Malfoy said in a grim voice. "And when I do he'll wish he had–"
Matthias coughed gently. "Miss Kelly appears to be very capable of taking care of herself. She fought him off and then beat him rather badly."
"Did he survive?"
"Yes. She asked me to drive him out a few miles in the cart and dump him in a ditch and I obliged. I... I am uncertain if she wished you to know what happened, but I felt you should know the truth."
"Thank you. Perhaps she imagined it would reflect unfavorably on her ability to work."
"Perhaps. I could not think of a reason it should be kept hidden."
"Did she use magic on him? Did you need to apply a memory charm?"
"She did not use magic. She did use a shovel. It appears to have been equally effective in this case. She requested no memory charm be used – she wanted him to know that attacking a woman can be so dangerous he would not try it again." Mr. Malfoy nodded in agreement. "He appeared to have a few broken bones so he will not be making attempts for some time."
"Did Miss Kelly suffer any harm?"
"I don't believe so, at least not physically. She stopped him before... Her nerves were badly shaken from the ordeal. I don't think she will be able to–"
"Of course not," Mr. Malfoy agreed. "I shall probably ask my old stableman to come back briefly, or find someone among the tenants. I shouldn't have allowed her to take–"
"That might be why she didn't want you to know."
"Sorry. You are correct. I believe any of us would be shaken by such an ordeal. She is probably with Miss Kestrel. It is best if she rest – if possible. Should I remain here until I can hear a more complete report?"
Mr. Prewett knew that Kitty was not with Vivien, that Vivien was gone. On the other hand, revealing this information might raise questions about the source of his knowledge. "Let her rest," he suggested. "It would be the best medicine. There is no way of knowing when she might rise. You should do your work – and arrange for someone to come in to the stable."
"Yes, I need to... Do I know anything of last night's events if I am questioned about my need for stable help?"
Mr. Prewett thought for a second. "No, you know nothing. Clarence left so recently many tenants don't know he's gone. If he dared show his face on your land – and I'm certain he won't – people will assume his condition is why you need a replacement.
Mrs. Kestrel tried to talk with her daughter when Vivien arrived home from the Malfoys earlier than expected, but the younger witch was in no mood for conversation. The mother wisely realized would be inappropriate to tell her daughter, "I told you so." Mrs. Kestrel had half-hoped she would be wrong in what she had told Vivien, but knew the ways of the world too well to think that her daughter had really possessed a chance of marriage to a Malfoy.
"How was your stay with–"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
"Did Kitty prove a good companion?"
"She was fine."
"You ate well?"
"Yes."
"Is there anything special you would like for dinner tonight? I'm certain it won't be as elegant as you've had, but I'm very glad you're home."
"No. Nothing. I'm not hungry."
"The Malfoys–"
"I never want to hear the name Malfoy again."
Concerns for Miss Kelly preoccupied Mr. Malfoy on the ride to his steward's home.
"What happened to the young woman?" Mr. Trotter asked.
"There is little work to do today, so she didn't feel it necessary to join us."
"Is it ever necessary for her to accompany you?" Frederick laughed. "But she is a very pleasant companion."
"I was told that my other house guest, Miss Kestrel's friend Miss Kelly, was indisposed and suspect Miss Kestrel is keeping her company."
"Well, I hope her friend feels better soon. I shall miss the luncheon hamper."
Titus Malfoy returned to the Hall in the late morning. He was surprised to find Kitty at work in the stable. "What are you doing here?"
"Working."
"But Matthias told me you had been attacked last night."
"Aye."
"Don't you need time to recover your composure?"
"Wouldn't mind a rest, but horses still need to be fed and taken care of. Can't do that sitting in my room and moping. Work's the best medicine for me."
"I arranged for my retired stableman to return until you were able to resume your duties."
"I'm resuming now."
"Don't be too hasty. I can see bruises on your neck and scratches on your face. A few days of rest might be good for you."
"I don't need any–"
"I will remind you he worked for me many years. There are any number of things he might be able to tell you that would make your life easier. We will also be dining at the March home in a few days."
"Uh… Thank you. I think you said he knew magic?"
"He doesn't know magic, he's a muggle. But like the Slopers he knows about magic and keeps his mouth shut. And while he may not possess your father's knowledge he would be a good man with whom to become acquainted."
"I'll listen. My Da always says you can learn from anyone if you keep your mouth closed and your ears open."
"You appear to have a remarkable father. You can take care of my horse?" The Irish girl nodded. "I assume Miss Kestrel is somewhere about the Hall?"
"No, she's gone."
"Gone? Out riding? Running some errand?"
"Gone as in gone."
Mr. Malfoy looked puzzled. "I don't understand."
"Vivien is gone. Her clothes are gone. Her room is empty."
"She left this morning?"
"I don't know when she left. She wasn't here last night."
The report made no sense. He handed the reins of his mount to the girl and strode to the house. Matthias reported that Kitty had told him Vivien was gone, but he had not verified if it were true. The Slopers confirmed the room was empty. He still went upstairs to look for himself.
He suffered a panic attack when he saw the empty wardrobe. Clarence must have attacked Miss Kestrel before attacking Miss Kelly. He ran back to the stable to talk with Kitty again.
Kitty refused to panic. "Viv could have taken care of herself. 'Sides what would he have done with the hair brushes and all that? He couldn't have taken her, and her stuff, and be trying to rob you out here."
"I'm going to look around. Maybe she's in one of the wagons or carriages."
Kitty sighed, "I'll help you look, but she not here. She's gone."
"It makes no sense for her to leave."
"Don't know that I have sense, but I know what I know – she's gone."
In the early afternoon Kitty was in her room and noticed a piece of paper on the floor that she had overlooked earlier.
Kitty,
I'm going back to London. I feel it necessary.
Please convey my apologies.
Viv
Miss Kelly frowned as she read it. Not a word of explanation of any sort. Her best guess was that Vivien had received an owl with some sort of news that had made it necessary for the blond to leave. The fact Vivien had been unwilling to provide any details meant it must be personal. While it provided a mystery worthy of speculation it didn't provide enough information for speculation to be worthwhile. However, it did tell her that she needed to locate her host and assure him that Vivien had not been abducted.
TItus Malfoy initially received the news with a sense of relief in regard to Vivien's safety. Then, like Kitty, he began to wonder what had caused Miss Kestrel to need to return to the City at such an unusual hour and without proper notice. The thought even crossed his mind of going to London and asking if there was anything he could do to aid Vivien in whatever situation had arisen.
Dinner was unusually quiet that evening as each person at the table had his or her own thoughts to preoccupy their minds.
Titus Malfoy resolved to spend more time than necessary with his steward the next day so as not to dwell on his missing house guest.
It proved impossible to keep Vivien from his thoughts. Mr. Trotter inquired again about her absence, and on being told that urgent business had called her home, expressed the hope she would be able to return for a visit.
Why had she left? Had he insulted or offended her in some way as a host? It had appeared to him that the young woman was fond of him.
Checking on his tenants provided no relief to Mr. Malfoy. Apparently the local gossip had transposed the speculation that Vivien was the intended fiancée of Claudius to the speculation that she was the intended fiancée of Titus himself.
"She has returned to London," he told the wife of one tenant. "And she was not my fiancée."
"Beggin' your pardon m'lord. Heard you and her looked right natural together."
"I don't wish to talk about it," Vivien told her mother again when the question about her early return to the city was repeated.
"When you were here the other day, with that young man–"
"I said, I don't wish to talk about it."
The finery had all been put away. There would be no reason to wear it while in the shop. Patrons expected a shop girl to be dressed plainly so as not to detract from their own apparel. She found herself unable to write to Elizabeth about the change in her fortunes.
"You're casting a pall of gloom over the shop," Mrs. Kestrel complained on Vivien's third day home. "Have you lost the ability to smile at a customer?"
"Sorry. I don't feel like smiling. What would you have me do?"
"Go to the theater. Take the day off and do something for pleasure."
"Going to the theater by myself would only make me feel worse."
"There are some very nice wizards here in Diagon. I've seen a young man at the bookshop–"
"Mother! Please... Having you supply a young man to take me out would make me feel worse than going alone."
"Well something needs to be done."
"I'll feel better in time."
"Well, I hope time comes sooner rather than later," her mother grumbled. "I should never have let her go to the Malfoys. It only encouraged her foolish dreams."
Titus Malfoy paced the floor of the library, feeling quite unlike himself. He came to the conclusion that his mood represented the product of a charm, enchantment, or love potion of some sort, and he did not appreciate being the victim of magic.
Neither his work with Pictish runes or the dark arts would do serve him in his efforts to rid himself of whatever troubled him. He sat at his desk and dipped his pen in ink as he contemplated the different possible sources for his ills. "Spells and curses," he wrote, then paused and thought. He could think of no love curse, but given the agony he experienced he refused to rule it out. On the other hand, if his library contained no reference to a love curse he doubted Vivien could have found one. He had less confidence in his knowledge of other sorts of spells, and wrote the name of a witch to consult on the subject.
Next he wrote "Potions," and sat back to think. He did not believe Vivien had arrived with the ingredients necessary for a love potion, but could not rule it out. She would not have found the necessary materials on hand. She had admitted to doing well in potions. While Miss Kestrel would have had opportunity to add a potion to something he ate or drank it seemed more likely she would have given it to Claudius than to him.
He frowned, what if she had used a memory charm to keep him from recalling that he had been given a potion? Love potions could be very potent, but a good potions master could usually diagnose them and find the appropriate antidote. The potions teacher he knew at Hogwarts had retired and they had brought in a temporary replacement for the last year... Titus thought for a minute, Nicolas Flamel was the man's name... Perhaps he had that wrong. He had read of of a skillful potions instructor at Hogwarts several centuries ago named Nicolas Flamel. Perhaps he was a descendant of... Mr. Malfoy shook his head and tried to concentrate. It didn't matter what the damn name was, or if he was related to some instructor from the past, or if... Titus closed his eyes, leaned back, and drew a deep breath. Letting it out he leaned forward and wrote, "Visit Hogsmeade." He wouldn't be foolish enough to try and diagnose his own ailment, he would visit an expert.
Under that he wrote, "Charms - Consult Prof. Ogden." The charms instructor would be able to tell if a love charm had been cast on him. That evening when they had watched the sunset and she had touched his face, he had certainly felt something at that moment.
Resolved on a course of action he decided to leave immediately. He could not leave immediately, he had plans with his steward for the morrow. He would ride to his steward's home and claim he was feeling indisposed and unable to... If he were truly feeling indisposed would he ride to the home of his steward?
"Damn it!" he cursed and threw down his pen. The fact he could not think clearly showed that he obviously was the victim of some sort of magic and needed a cure.
He rode to the home of his steward and pounded on the door.
"Mr. Malfoy?" his startled employee exclaimed in surprise.
"Will be gone a couple days, just letting you know."
"You didn't need to–" Mr. Trotter began, but Mr. Malfoy had turned after delivering his message and strode back to his horse.
On his return the master of Malfoy Hall went into the library, took down a canister from the mantel on the library fireplace and took out a measure of floo powder.
Flames leapt in the huge fireplace at the Hog's Head and Mr. Malfoy stepped into the crowded public room. Disgusted with himself he closed his eyes and cursed inwardly. It was too late to be making a call on the potions master. He spun on his heel and tossed another pinch of floo powder into the flames and stepped in as startled residents of Hogsmeade speculated on the brief appearance, and disappearance, of their unknown guest.
After a poor night's sleep Titus returned to Hogsmeade the next morning. The Flamels had a small home on the edge of town nearer the school. "Good morning," he introduced himself to the man who opened the door, "my name is Titus Malfoy and I greatly desire to speak to Nicolas Flamel."
"I'm Nicolas Flamel. Titus Malfoy... Malfoy Manor Malfoy or some other branch?"
"Malfoy Hall is my home."
"Hall? Oh, new architecture I suppose. Well come in. Gaius was a good friend. Any descendant is always welcome in my home."
"Gaius? I don't think I–"
"Oh, he was long before your time. A wonderful host. Come in, come in. Must return the hospitality." Mr. Flamel stepped back and gestured for Titus to enter. "We certainly can't match his wine cellar. Still, bit early for that. Anything I can offer you?"
"No, I–"
"Coffee?"
"No. Yes. I... Thank you."
"Perenelle," Nicolas shouted, "a cup of coffee. We have a guest. Lord Malfoy."
"Surely Gaius must be long dead," a voice answered from the back of the house.
"Oh, some descendant."
"Does he want cream and sugar?"
Nicolas turned to his guest, "Well?"
"A little cream, please."
"Cream," he shouted as he pointed to a chair. As his guest sat down Mr. Flamel took one next to it. "Now, you said you desired to speak with me?"
"Yes. I have experienced some symptoms lately which–"
He stopped as a middle-aged woman entered with two cups of coffee on a small silver tray. She stared at him for a moment and turned to her husband, "I don't think he resembles Gaius at all."
"I don't believe there has been a Gaius Malfoy at the Manor in the last two centuries."
"Well, that might have been him," Perenelle agreed. "Or maybe an earlier baron, one does lose track of time."
"Your symptoms," Nicolas reminded him. "That was what you wanted to speak with me about?"
The two men went upstairs to the room where Mr. Flamel did his work and after an hour and a half of purgatives and test potions which left Mr. Malfoy's stomach upset Nicolas Flamel pronounced that his guest gave no indication of being under the influence of any potion. "But I do advise you to avoid any punch which might contain citrus for the next two days."
"Citrus... You mean lemon and limes?"
"Also oranges... I've seen a few more varieties in my travels but those are the ones you might encounter."
"And the reason I should avoid them?"
"One of the test potions. Citrus will result in your turning a brilliant shade of yellow until the next full moon."
"Thank you for your time. I will ask my secretary to write you for a time when you can visit my home."
"Perenelle and I would love to see the manor house again," Nicolas assured him. "Is the tower still standing?"
"Tower? I... It's been gone for more than a century."
"Well, it was a bit drafty."
"If I might beg another favor. I would like to consult with Professor Ogden on the possibility my symptoms represent a charm of some sort. Do you have any idea where I might find him? I don't believe he lives in Hogsmeade."
"No, Cooperton. Can you apparate there?"
"I'm afraid I don't know the location well enough to apparate. Can I use floo powder?"
"I suppose you... Hold on, I know his home. I'll apparate there and grab something for a port key. Half a moment."
A few minutes later Nicolas Flamel was back in the living room of his small house and lay a small pebble on the much stained oak work table. "That will take you outside his house. I'll follow and make introductions."
Mr. Malfoy stretched out his hand for the port key, then hesitated. "Are port keys and apparating safe in Cooperton?"
"It's like Diagon," the potions master assured him. "Smaller, of course, but when Manchester grew around it they put up spells to keep it hidden."
"Thank you," Titus told him and, picking up the pebble disappeared from the room. He had few moments to look around before Nicolas Flamel appeared beside him. If his memory was correct the village of Cooperton had been little more than two streets and, if not an especially desirable location to live was at least respectable. He wasn't certain if there were any wizarding shops in the community. All he could see from where he stood were small, sturdily built brick homes set close together and lining either side of the narrow dirt street.
Suddenly Nicolas Flamel stood beside him, "That one, with the blue shutters." He knocked on the door and a girl too young for admission to Hogwarts opened the door. "Would you please tell Professor Ogden that Professor Flamel and Titus Malfoy are here to see him?"
"Papa," the girl turned and yelled, "A professor someone and Mr. Malfoy are at the door."
"Charlotte, if you keep telling these stories your nose will fall off someday."
"Really, Papa, really."
"Fine. I'm coming. But if they aren't there I won't take 'they disappeared' as an answer and you'll go to bed without your supper." The little girl quickly seized the hand of Nicolas Flamel.
The old man smiled, "Do people disappear often?" he asked.
"Well... no," the child admitted.
Footsteps could be heard moving in the direction of the doorway. "Now Charlotte, how many times must... Oh."
"Sorry to bother you," Professor Flamel apologized. "Had a visitor this morning who fears he might be under some sort of spell. I checked him for potions and found no problem, but he wished to consult with you."
"Titus? Titus Malfoy?" Professor Ogden asked.
"You know each other? Oh, through Claudius, of course."
"He also began teaching charms my final year at Hogwarts." Mr Malfoy commented. The charms professor nodded at the memory. "Would you be able to examine me to see if I have been charmed?"
"I suspect Mrs. Pilton would have me sacked if I said 'no' to a Malfoy."
The three men laughed. "You will excuse me then," Professor Flamel told the pair, but my wife and I had plans."
"Thank you for the introduction," Mr. Malfoy told him and the older man apparated home.
Charlotte had stayed through the conversation. "See Papa, see! Sometimes people disappear!"
"And sometimes little girls have vivid imaginations."
"I seem to recall your children being much older," Titus remarked.
"Charlotte is the baby–"
"I'm not a baby, Papa, I'm eight."
"And much younger than her siblings. Her mother and I call her our wonderful surprise." He turned to his daughter, "Charlotte, go ask your Mama to make some tea and see if there are any biscuits." The little girl nodded and ran off to find her mother as the professor gestured toward the back of the house, "My study is this way. You think you are under a charm of some sort?"
"I'm... I'm not certain. I have been feeling somewhat queer and wonder if an enchantment of some sort might be the cause. Charm discernment is not a common skill and I hoped you might examine me."
"Any particular reason to suspect a charm?" his host asked as they walked down a hallway.
"No, but... I should not say this, but I had a guest recently who is very skilled with charms and–"
"May I ask his name?"
"Her name, Vivien Kestrel."
"Vivien? Well, she certainly has the talent. Sit down in that chair while I find my tools. I can't believe she would use a charm against you. Why do you–"
"I am not thinking clearly these days. I may not be charmed, and she could have had nothing to do with it. Having had a guest skilled with charms put the idea into my head." He watched as the professor took a pair of colored spectacles from a case. "How old a charm can you detect?"
"Depends on the type of charm, and its strength. Also whether you were the active target or a passive recipient. I–"
"Charms was not my best subject," Mr. Malfoy apologized. "Could you remind me?"
"Active, I place a charm on you. Passive, I place a charm on something else and you are exposed to that person or object. If you... Hold on, a couple active charms... One fairly recent." He changed spectacles, trying on three pair before diagnosing, "Very powerful memory charm, I'd say six or seven months ago. The other is more recent, within the last three weeks. A weather charm of some sort. Protection from... given the season, rain?"
"Yes."
"Well, the weather charm shouldn't leave you with any ill-effects, nor should the memory charm. I might be able to break the memory charm. Would you like me to make the attempt?"
"Yes... No, I think not. That was about the time of winter break. Perhaps it is something a father is better off not remembering. It would have nothing to do with my current mood."
"Passive charms can be more subtle. Vivien might have had a reason to use a charm on some thing and–"
"So, if she used a revealing charm, at my suggestion, it might have a residual effect upon me?"
"It is difficult to say. Some charms are so limited in nature they would leave no residual evidence. Other charms... Charms to enhance one's appearance, for example, will leave behind evidence on those around the individual." He laughed, "Not that Miss Kestrel ever had need of an appearance charm. She is quite the beauty."
"She is indeed. Then you might find a number. She attempted charms to gain information on something in my collection while I was present. She also used some sort of charm which compelled those with whom she spoke to tell the truth."
"Do you want me to continue the examination?"
"Yes, please."
The examination lasted several more minutes, but disclosed nothing of importance. "I do not believe you have been enchanted by any sort of charm other than the two I discovered."
"Then I shall cross that off my list of possible causes for unhappiness."
"Are you certain the cause of your unhappiness is magic?"
"Pardon?"
"Could anything with your family, your estate, or your own life be the source for your unease?"
"All of the above," Titus sighed. "Perhaps I sought a source in magic because it would have been easier try and correct. I appreciate your time. Is there anyway I can repay you for your kindness?"
"Well," Professor Ogden licked his lips nervously.
"Tea!" a voice called from the other side of the door.
"My wife," the charms instructor explained and opened the door and offered introductions.
Mrs. Ogden poured two cups and retreated with, "I'll let you finish your work."
"Repay your kindness," Titus reminded his host.
"Yes, well... Might I be allowed to see the charm books in the Malfoy library?"
"I'm afraid our charms collection is very poor, I doubt there is anything you have not seen."
"But your library–"
"My grandfather never had any use for charms - rumor is he couldn't cast one to save his life, so he gave the books on the subject to Hogwarts."
"Ah, that might explain it. I've seen your family bookplate in a number of volumes and imagined they were duplicates of some sort."
"Neither my father nor myself shared his view, but we've not made a concentrated effort to rebuild that portion of the collection, simply purchased common works."
"There are rumors of a secret library that–"
"I wish the rumors would die," Titus sighed, and took another sip of tea. "There are a number of books on the dark arts we keep apart and under lock and key because they could be misused. How that became transformed into an imaginary secret library is unfortunate."
"If they are so dangerous they need to be kept apart would you be better off destroying them?"
"I would consider the destruction of any knowledge a greater sin than the dark arts themselves."
"I... I suppose you are right. I sometimes wonder if..." He paused and stared at his guest. "Oh dear, you do appear to be under some sort of spell. You are changing color!"
"What?" He held up his hand. It had taken on a definite yellow cast, and even as he watched it became more pronounced. "Lemon in the tea?"
"What?"
"Professor Flamel warned me, one of the tests he ran would result in turning me yellow if I consumed anything lemon."
"I'm sorry. I had no idea. Can anything be done?"
"According to him I can wait. The effect will last until the next full moon."
"I'm sorry," Professor Ogden began again. "I didn't–"
"Not your fault. I should have remembered the warning and been more careful."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"If you have a fireplace connected to the floo network I would like to use it to return home. It appears I will not be leaving the house or receiving company for some time."
Gordon Sloper, of course, said nothing when his master arrived home a bright yellow. It was not the place of a servant to question his master's appearance. Matthias looked solicitous and asked if he could be of any help. Claudius, on being assured his father was not ill, laughed at the sight. Mr. Prewett warned Kitty of what had happened and she tried very hard not to stare – which created an unnatural condition when she avoided looking at him at all.
A letter arrived from Elizabeth. Vivien suspected Kitty had forwarded it to her and the bird seemed cross for the wasted flying distance.
Dear Viv,
Just arrived in Moscow. We will winter at the
home of the archimandrite. Don't ask me what
that means, although I am certain I will learn.
He is very high in the Orthodox church and serves
the patriarch, but is also an important figure in the
Russian wizarding community.
We are to learn the Yukaghir dialect from an
Orthodox missionary to the people and Professor
Potter has ordered us to be circumspect in our
conversations. The Yukaghir were a very powerful
people, but Russian expansion and Orthodox missions
are fast destroying their culture. He fears that while
the archimandrite is a wizard he is also Russian and
Orthodox and approves the destruction.
We will try to learn what we can from the Yukaghir
shamans and the wizarding communities of other
Siberian tribes, but the Russian government is
suspicious of the English in general and anyone
wishing to study the Yukaghir in particular so we dare
not risk offending our host or the expedition may be
terminated before it begins. I have not heard from you
in several days. Is everything all right? I pray you are
enjoying your time with the Malfoys. I depend on you
to keep me informed on important news – such as the
quidditch games this year – for you are my most
faithful correspondent.
Love,
Lizzy
The letter from Mrs. Potter forced Miss Kestrel to summon the nerve to reply to her friend.
Dear Lizzy,
I so wish you were here so that I could
cry on your shoulder. I fear I've made a
dreadful fool of myself with the Malfoys.
I want to crawl under a rock and hide. I am
back in Diagon, I could not bear being at
the Hall a minute longer. I actually left
in the middle of the night! I know it was
rude, but I had to leave before I made an
even greater fool of myself. You and my
mother, and everyone else who told me I
was a fool, has been proven correct. My
mother tries to give me sympathy, but it
it difficult when I sense she feels justified
in her warnings. I know you would cry
with me. Imagining you telling me to be
brave helps me survive at the shop.
Viv
Vivien requested a leave from the shop on the day Claudius came to call for his wardrobe. Her mother granted her request, "You will spend the day walking in Westminster with Sylvester Slughorn and–"
"Mother! Sylvester? What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking I want you to study the styles on the people of fashion. It would be improper for you to be walking by yourself so he will serve as your escort."
"But mother, Sylvester?"
"I am paying him two sickles to spend the day with you. And a girl as pretty as yourself should not need to pay a young man to walk out with her."
"You're paying him? I... I'm sorry. I thought you were trying to encourage an attachment."
That was exactly Mrs. Kestrel's plan, although the fact Sylvester was so mercenary that he required payment made her skeptical if he was worth it. Perhaps he had demanded the silver to pay for a nice lunch that afternoon.
A note arrived from Kitty. It asked if the letter from Elizabeth had arrived and contained a general claim that Miss Kelly's plans to remain in the region and treat animals were going well and several broad hints that the Irish girl would like a long letter explaining Vivien's actions.
Days passed slowly for a bright yellow Titus Malfoy in his home. He thought constantly of Vivien and wondered what he had said or done to upset her, and reminded himself that the difference in their positions actually made it a good thing she had left. But while he could tell himself that on an intellectual level he missed her teasing ways, their quiet picnics and the chance to watch sunsets with her.
The date arrived for Claudius to leave for London. "I wish you could see me off," Claudius told her father before departing.
His father pointed to his still yellow face.
"I almost wonder if you did that just to avoid seeing Peter."
"I would like very much to see you off... I might have even been willing to be introduced to your friend were I able to travel."
Two nights later Titus Malfoy stood outside his home, basking in the rays of the full moon. It felt wonderful to be free of the prison on his own home he reflected, as he returned to the library.
The night was unseasonably chill and a fire burned on the hearth. He turned a chair and glanced at the empty chair to his right. He would have given anything he owned for Vivien to be sitting there. He turned his gaze from the chair and stared into the flames. He felt certain Vivien would accept his proposal, should he ask. "But she would only marry me for my money and position." Would it be so bad to be married for his money? "I don't want a wife who only sees me in selfish terms!" Was he only thinking in selfish terms, wanting a wife who was young and lovely? And, why had she left? Had she accepted what he told her, that she would never been Mrs. Malfoy? Had he hurt her feelings? Was she angry at him? He smiled. She had stood up to him – Miss Kestrel had spirit. Surely she would have told him had he angered her. Had he done something else to offend her? Had Claudius said something?
Mr. Prewett and Miss Kelly had retired hours earlier. He almost considered waking his secretary to hear a voice other than his own as it filled his head. To wake either, however, would have required more truth than he wanted to admit.
He sighed, perhaps he needed a visit to the nursery.
"What is troubling you?" the portrait of his late wife asked as Titus Malfoy dragged a chair over in front of the picture and flopped down in it.
"Why do you assume something is troubling me?"
"Why do you avoid my question? You never come under normal circumstances. Claudius has told me of his plans... I can't imagine you would come at this hour to say he is safely off to Durmstrang."
"He is off. I wish he felt as free to discuss his plans with his living father as he felt to discuss them with a portrait of his dead mother."
"I listen and don't judge."
"I don't judge."
"Perhaps not explicitly. You have very high standards, Titus. You need not say a word and still Claudius can tell when you don't approve of his ideas."
"But—"
"You don't need to rationalize or defend yourself. Everyone who knows you respects your values – but you are a very difficult man to stand up to given the aura of moral certainty about you."
"I don't feel moral," he mumbled.
The portrait laughed, "And that was another of your virtues. Had you been filled with a spirit of self-righteousness you would have been quite insufferable. You demonstrate your virtue by example rather than boring those around with tales of your superiority. At least that is my memory."
"My comment is to emphasize that I don't feel moral now."
"You haven't done something to poor Claudius, have you? You promised him–"
"I keep my word. I simply can't approve of his plans, you know that."
"You don't need to approve. You need to recognize that he can make choices for himself, whether you approve or not. He is now an adult and—"
"I know that!" Titus interrupted. "I am not here to talk about Claudius."
"Then why are you here?"
"I… I suppose I am lonely."
"Lonely? Has that Matthias fellow, the one you wanted to write books with departed?"
"No, he is still here."
"And that queer Irish girl? The one who dressed like a young man?"
Titus managed a smile. "She took your rebuke to heart and dressed more appropriately for a time. I fear she has had a relapse – our stableman left and she asked to perform the duties until I can find someone more suitable. She is dressing, once again, in that disreputable fashion."
"Oh, dear. That is most unusual. Is that what is troubling you?"
"Miss Kelly has become a great favorite of April."
"Indeed?"
"Her father trained her in equine medicine. There was a problem at the March stables and Miss Kelly cured the horses and solved the problem–"
"Good for her!"
"And now April is scheming to keep Miss Kelly in the neighborhood. She even offered a dowry for the girl to marry Claudius."
The portrait laughed. "April is no fool, and if she wants Miss Kelly to stay I am certain she will discover a method."
"I suspect Mr. Prewett finds the young woman fascinating. I am less certain what her feelings might be towards him."
"Hmmm… But you said you were here because of your own sense of loneliness rather than to talk about them. Claudius was often away at Hogwarts and you found ways to amuse yourself with little in the way of company."
"I am lonely now… And why have you asked nothing about Miss Kestrel?"
"Oh, so Miss Kestrel is the cause of your loneliness?"
"I said no such thing. You asked about Claudius, Matthias and Miss Kelly. Why did you say nothing about Miss Kestrel?"
"Because she talked with me and told me she was leaving."
"Damn! Does no one tell me anything?"
The picture smiled, "Such intemperate language, you are deeply moved by her absence."
"I am deeply moved by being ignored in my own home. She spoke with you and not with me?"
"She did not want to face you under the circumstances."
"What circumstances? What made her sneak off in the middle of the night like some thief?"
"I don't believe I am at liberty to share what she told me with another. Why are you so upset by her leaving? Did she steal something?"
"No."
"Did you have hopes of her marrying Claudius."
He shuddered slightly, but visibly, "No."
"Then explain what is troubling you."
"Sparta is much better these days. Miss Kelly sees that he is well exercised."
"That is perhaps the most clumsy attempt to change the subject I have ever heard."
"I thought you would wish to know how—"
"I wish to know why the absence of Miss Kestrel troubles you so."
"It doesn't trouble me, I—"
"Your lies are as clumsy as your attempt to change the subject. And don't tell me that you fear she found you a poor host and your feelings are hurt."
"My wife was never this blunt."
"As you yourself point out, I am not your wife. I am a memory of her. Death removes some of the need to tread carefully on the feelings of others. And I can't recall you ever lying so badly during your marriage. The subject is Miss Kestrel and the fact you want her here."
"I don't want—"
"Titus!" the picture warned sternly.
He sighed, "She would ride with me when I went around the estate to check on the tenants. I enjoyed our conversations. She made me laugh. It had been a very long time since I laughed."
The portrait frowned, "Has it really been so long?"
"Very little since she died… The problems with Claudius, the cares of the estate. It felt good to laugh again."
"Under the circumstances I suppose you could ask her to be your mistress. I—"
"No!" he thundered. "That is outrageous."
"Of course it is," the picture replied in a soothing tone. "You are far too moral. You could ask her to marry you."
"I was married, and her social position, I…"
"Your wife, as you remind me on those few occasions when I speak with you, is dead. If she loved you – as I can assure you she did – she would want you to be happy. If your late wife did not love you it should not concern you what she thought on the subject."
"Miss Kestrel's mother is in trade, a seamstress in Diagon Alley."
"You would let your social position interfere with your happiness? What is the point of being from a good family if it won't allow you to enjoy yourself? Ask the girl to marry you if that is your wish."
"Why, when I wanted to find a suitable bride for Claudius did you label Miss Kestrel an unsuitable candidate, but you are encouraging me to consider marriage?"
"There are different reasons for marriage. You have no reason to wed for financial security. One may marry because of the demands of society. Claudius, had he taken a wife, would have been married to meet the demands of society – and Miss Kestrel does not meet the demands of society. Family obligations dictated your first marriage. Marriage, for love, requires a different set of rules. Now then, I see two reasons to approve your marriage to Miss Kestrel. First, I desire your happiness. The fact she makes you laugh and preoccupies your mind testifies to your emotions. She would make you happy."
"I am too old for her."
"And I believe that is for her to decide rather than you deciding how she is to reject you."
"She won't reject me. She can't reject me. She wanted to marry Claudius and become Mrs. Malfoy."
"Ah, finally the crux of matter. You think you love the girl, but-"
"I never said I thought I loved the girl."
"Much as I enjoy this conversion it would proceed more quickly if you would work on your honesty. You never lied to your wife like that… But perhaps you are lying to yourself. You think you love the girl, but you worry she might only accept a proposal from avarice and not because she actually cared for you."
He frowned and nodded, "Yes."
"Then perhaps I will tell you some of my conversation with the young woman in question."
By the end of the portrait's account Titus was smiling broadly. "Does that release you from some of your fears?" the painting asked.
"Yes, thank you... A moment ago you spoke of two reasons for asking for Miss Kestrel's hand?"
"Oh, yes. For your happiness, and for mine. I want children in the nursery. It appears unlikely that Claudius will produce an heir, and I want the estate to remain with your descendants. When the children have grown and are off to Hogwarts you will move me to the great hall. If the home were to pass to Marcus I know he would relegate me to the dungeon."
"I don't believe Marcus would hold a grudge for that accident."
"He certainly would, and it was no accident."
Mrs. Kestrel noticed an unusually fine owl among the birds waiting the opening of the shop. "Man's handwriting," she thought as she broke the seal. She frowned as she read the note and tried to decipher the writer's purpose.
"Anything important?" Vivien asked her mother as the daughter pulled back the drapes to ready the shop for the day.
"Nothing," her mother lied, refolding the letter and putting it on the bottom of the letters to read again after looking at other mail.
At ten Mrs. Kestrel informed her daughter, "You will be in charge of the shop starting at eleven. I have business that requires my attention. I'll be back after visiting Firmin's." She hoped Vivien would simply assume that the business which required her attention was the same as the visit to the button shop.
Never having been to the Wand Club Mrs. Kestrel made the mistake of approaching the front door. The stern-faced man in livery sent her to the side entrance.
An equally important looking wizard at the side entrance demanded to know her name and business with the club.
"Mrs. Kestrel, Mr. Malfoy asked me–"
"Ah, Mrs. Kestrel. We are very pleased to see you." He snapped his fingers and a house elf rushed to be of service, "Please take Mrs. Kestrel to private room C." The man bowed with a flourish as the house elf led the startled woman back into the club.
The creature knocked on a door leading off a dark, quiet hallway.
"Yes?"
"Your guest, Sir."
"Show her in."
The occupant of the room rose as she entered. The large windows meant the room was dazzling bright compared with the shadowy hall. The room was small, with a table which could not have accommodated more than two. "Would you care for lunch?"
"I don't believe so. I am curious why you... Are you Mr. Malfoy?"
"I am."
"I had pictured you as older."
"Thank you. Salad and coffee?"
"No nothing. I do not believe our conversation will be a lengthy one."
"Perhaps you are correct. However, I will ask for a pot of tea." He looked at the house elf, which nodded to show the order had been heard, then backed out of the room and silently closed the door. Mr. Malfoy gestured to a chair at the table and Mrs. Kestrel sat down as he took the second chair.
"You asked to speak with me privately," Mrs. Kestrel reminded him, "and requested I not tell Vivien of the meeting."
"I believe that is the correct form," he answered.
"Correct form for what? Is there a problem connected with my daughter's visit to your home?"
"No. No problem."
"And the reason for this meeting?"
"I want your permission to request your daughter's hand in marriage."
"Mr. Malfoy?"
"Yes."
"Please ask for some wine. I am feeling faint."
He rang a small, silver bell and a house elf knocked on the door within seconds. "Wine, for Mrs. Kestrel," Titus shouted and the creature was gone.
It was back almost as quickly with a glass of wine. "You didn't specify vintage," the elf began in an apologetic manner as Mr. Malfoy snatched the glass from its hand and gave it to Vivien's mother.
"Go," he ordered.
Mrs. Kestrel took a sip. She wished the house elf had been slower to give her more time to think. She took a deep breath, then sighed.
"Perhaps I misunderstood. It sounded like you wished to ask for my daughter's hand in marriage for yourself. Did you mean for your son?"
"No, you were correct in my intentions. I would like to marry your daughter."
"I... I am not certain how to answer your request."
"Your blessing on my proposal would be appreciated."
"I must confess to feeling conflicted. At the beginning of the summer she ordered me to respond with a yes when I was asked if she could become Mrs. Malfoy. She returned from your home unhappy and gave orders that I never mention the name of Malfoy again in her hearing. I want my daughter to be happy."
"As do I," he assured her.
"I am certain you are a sensible man. My daughter is... We are not wealthy. She is pretty and has a head filled with a marriage to a rich wizard. Admiration for beauty on one side, and a desire for security on the other, are a poor recipe for marital bliss."
"Mrs. Kestrel, in the brief time your daughter stayed at my home I discovered a loveliness in her beyond outer beauty. I hope she came to view me as more than the income of my estate."
Vivien's mother drank the last of the wine and set the glass down on the table. "I am in no position to say 'no' to your asking my daughter to marry you. If she says yes, you have my blessing. I have warned you of my concerns, I can do no more."
"I appreciate your candor," he replied. "When may I see her?"
"She is minding the shop this–"
"May I ask her privately?"
"The shop closes this evening at–"
"I would like to ask as soon as possible."
"If you cannot wait, I plan to stop at the Strand and look at buttons. That will take a good hour or more. Do you know my shop?"
"I am not certain if I have been there, but am certain I can find it without difficulty."
Three women were in Kestrels, although all three might not count as customers. Two witches in early middle age looked at bolts of velvet and discussed fashion, but Vivien could not be certain if they were interested in dresses or simply passing time until some other appointment.
The elderly witch with whom Vivien spoke certainly wanted dresses, and was very particular in what she wanted – which left Vivien in a terrible dilemma. What the woman wanted sounded so hideous Miss Kestrel feared it would reflect badly on the shop if she told anyone where she had obtained them. On the other hand, she appeared just the sort of witch who would complain loudly, and to everyone within hearing, if she did not receive exactly what she demanded at the shop. As Vivien attempted another tactful suggestion the bell on the door rang and she looked up, to see Titus Malfoy enter the shop.
Her heart went to her throat. Why was he here? What did he want? "May... I... help you?" she managed to stammer.
Titus glanced around the shop, suddenly feeling a stranger in a strange land. In his imagination he had entered an empty shop and taken Vivien in his arms as she accepted his proposal. "I... I will wait until you are free."
Now that he was near Vivien he would not leave, but he looked around the shop for something, anything, to distract him until the three women left. A terrible thought entered his mind, what if other customers came in? He had no idea how busy a normal day was in the dress shop. His mind raced through a hundred different methods of clearing the women from the shop, although most – like setting the shop on fire – he dismissed as impractical and easily open to misinterpretation.
"Where is your mind!" the elderly witch snapped at Vivien. "You are paying no attention to my directions."
"I'm sorry, I was–"
"Do not address Miss Kestrel in that tone of voice," Titus warned the woman.
"Young man, I will address the help as..." she turned to scold the newcomer, "as... Are you Mr. Malfoy?"
"I am, and I hope you intended to finish your sentence with a declaration of your intention to treat Miss Kestrel with the good manners and respect she deserves."
"I was at Hogwarts when your father attended..."
"You do not need to interfere," Vivien told him. "Madame wants her dresses a particular way. I should listen to her wishes."
Titus gave serious thought to voicing, "A woman dressed like that has no business telling you anything. She should listen to you." Instead he replied, "You put a charm on my tenants, but I am not allowed to voice an opinion in your shop?"
"No, you aren't. Was there something wrong with the suits for Claudius?"
"Claudius was very pleased. I desire to speak with you."
"I have customers to whom I must attend."
"I... uh... can leave if you wish," the elderly witch offered.
"At Kestrel's we strive to please our clientele. Mr. Malfoy is a very important man, but you were placing an order."
"I can come back," she laughed nervously. "Always heard it was bad luck to anger a Malfoy."
"I have your original directions. I will see that everything is done as you wish."
"No... I will think about what you said... I... I just remembered an appointment." The witch gathered her bag and headed for the door.
Vivien turned to the two witches looking at velvet, "May I help you with anything?"
The women glanced over. Mr. Malfoy was standing behind Vivien's back, and he shook his head 'no' to indicate how they were to answer. "We must be leaving," one said.
"It is late," the other agreed.
Mr. Malfoy smiled and nodded to indicate they had answered well. On occasion it was a very pleasant thing to have an evil reputation, even if it was undeserved.
As the door closed behind them Vivien turned to Mr. Malfoy, her voice reflecting some irritation. "You have driven three customers from my mother's shop."
"I wanted to speak with you."
"You could have waited."
"I did not wish to wait."
"Well you... What do you want?"
He hesitated, "This is a question I've not asked."
"What is a question you've not asked?"
"In my sixth year my father told me I would marry Emma at the end of my seventh year, so–"
"What are you talking about?"
"I've not asked a woman's hand in marriage."
"I don't understand. If you have changed your mind on Claudius I am not–"
"Will you marry me?"
"You?"
"Me."
"I..."
"I have spoken with your mother, and she has granted her permission, if it is what you desire."
After a moment of stunned silence she ordered, "Hold me."
"What?"
"Hold me!" She punctuated her demand by throwing her arms around him and holding him tightly. She began to sob and he put his arms around her, holding her in an equal embrace, but uncertain what the tears meant. "You must think I'm a dreadful person."
"I would not ask you to marry me if I found you dreadful."
"You like me?"
"I love you, and I hope the feeling is reciprocated." She said nothing, simply continued to hold him. "There is a problem," he said gently after a minute.
"My position?"
"No, you haven't said yes to my proposal. I would like to hear you accept it."
"You asked my mother?"
"I did."
"You really love me?"
"Yes."
"I love you so much... I couldn't stand to stay, not knowing what you thought of me, I–"
"Miss Kestrel?"
"Yes?"
"Will you accept my proposal? I fear you are trying to avoid the question."
"I'm sorry... I just... My face is a mess with tears... I don't... Yes. Marrying you would make me the happiest witch in Britain."
"Thank you. May I kiss you now?"
"But I've been crying, my face–"
"I don't care," he told her, and proved it by kissing her.
The four weeks until the wedding were not nearly enough time, in the opinion of Mrs. Kestrel to put a proper trousseau together for her daughter, but her daughter and Mr. Malfoy did not wish to wait. Vivien's mother was more upset by the fact Mr. Malfoy had some muggle woman, a Mrs. March, take Vivien and Miss Kelly to a muggle seamstress for country attire.
"It reflects poorly on my shop if my own daughter is wearing clothes made by someone else!"
"Would you ask a profit if you made my clothing?" Vivien asked.
"Of course not."
"Then take in paying customers until I'm wed. Then you will sell the shop and retire."
"I will not."
"We will discuss that after the wedding."
"We certainly will."
As Vivien had hoped/feared Bishop Ffolkes insisted on performing the ceremony himself, which was held at Reverend Henley's church under special license. Other than clergy only witches and wizards attended the ceremony.
Outside the churchyard was crowded with tenants who appreciated a day off work. Those who who held any sort of grudge against the Malfoy family and were not actually there to celebrate the second marriage of their landlord were there for the whole roast ox, roast boar, pies, and other food and drink he had supplied for the occasion.
As the newly married couple left the church tenants shouted congratulations, and a small girl broke away from her mother and ran for the bride.
"Bessie!" the mother screamed.
A man in the crowd managed to grab Bessie and lifted her off the ground before she could tackle Vivien. "Will you gather eggs with me?" the struggling child shouted.
To the horror of wizarding guests and the little girl's mother, and the amusement of her new husband and the tenants, the pretty witch called, "Yes, Bessie, I will come back and help you gather eggs."
Reverends Henley and Stout remained to revel with their parishioners while the bishop returned to Malfoy Hall and the reception for the invited guests. Matthias Prewett took it upon himself to keep the bishop's glass filled with claret so that any reference his grace might hear to magic would be suitably cloudy in the morning.
Hogwarts was well represented among the guests and an invitation was extended to Mr. Malfoy to take one of the two open chairs on the Board of Governors.
Mr. Malfoy came to an agreement with Yorick prior to the reception. Mr. Malfoy would draw no one's attention to the skull and, should anyone ask a question in regard to it, Yorick would not be referred to as a souvenir, relic, or part of the dark arts collection. In return the skull pledged not to scream obscenities at the guests.
The next several weeks were a whirl of confusion for Vivien as she discovered there were many more responsibilities associated with her new position than she had imagined. She began to better understand Claudius's reluctance to take on the role. (And she hoped he would stop referring to her as his step-mother in his letters and simply call her Viv.)
In addition to country life Titus had responsibilities in the City.
Dear Lizzy,
Titus introduced me in the court of St. James
yesterday. I met the Princess Victoria. She is
only seventeen and quite shy. I liked her very
much and she liked me and said she would ask
if I could be appointed a lady-in-waiting.
Titus tells me it is unlikely to happen. Apparently
it is very political and has little to do with
Victoria's own wishes. He keeps himself from
royal politics, which will remove me as a
candidate. Still, I feel very sorry for her. I find
being Mrs. Malfoy a great responsibility and
have no idea what it would be like to serve as
queen.
I am sorry to be so tiresome on this topic.
You are my friend and believe me, but I suffer
the question often. I trust you believe I married
Titus because I love him dearly. Other people
will not believe that. They look at me as someone
who married only for money and think he
married me only because I am young and pretty.
Perhaps society does not look down upon a man
for marrying a pretty young woman, but I still
fear anyone thinks that his only motive. Should
anyone who writes you question my motivation
you will tell them I love him. He is warm and
gentle and caring, I could not be truly happy with
anyone else.
And, while I am repeating myself, I will remind
you that you have not yet promised that your first
visit, when you and Charles return to Britain, will
be a stay for at least a month with me. Yes, as you
wrote, your parents have first claim on you. Of
course you are obliged to stay with family. I will
not call that a visit. I will be very hurt if you accept
any other invitation before my own, so you must
make my home your first call after family. (I laughed
as I underlined 'must'. As Mrs. Malfoy I can issue all
sorts of orders, but not to you. You must regard that
as a very strong please, because I miss you so very
much and long for the day I can see you again and
show you my home.)
Love,
Vivien
-The End-
Yukaghir culture was almost wiped out during the 19th century.
The Firmin family manufactured buttons from 1677, often with Strand addresses (including 1836).
Defenders of Victoria's mother, also Victoria, claim that she isolated Victoria from the court as much as possible because King William's numerous illegitimate children suggested immorality. William loved his children and acknowledged them. Others are of the opinion the mother was a manipulative b***h who hoped to control her daughter by keeping her socially ignorant.
William was the third son of George III and not supposed to become king. The Royal Marriages Act of 1772 said descendants of George II could only marry with royal permission. Since George III had high standards for who he would approve some offspring didn't bother with marriage. William stayed with an Irish actress with the stage name of Mrs. Jordan for twenty years and had ten children with her. They separated in 1811. George, the oldest brother, had several children with mistresses but only one daughter, Charlotte, with the wife he despised. Frederick, number two son, had numerous mistresses and no children with the wife he hated and from whom he separated. In 1817 Charlotte, the only legitimate grandchild of George III died and the remaining sons were pressured to marry and produce heirs. William married in 1818 and loved his wife, but neither daughter survived.
Son number four, Edward, married a German princess named Victoria in 1818. They had one daughter, Victoria, born in 1819 and Edward died the following year. Victoria (the mother) and her private secretary (and reported lover) John Conroy, hated William and hoped he would die in time that they would serve as regents with access to the royal funds. William managed to hang on until Victoria (the daughter) was 18. Queen Victoria remained estranged from her mother for several years – until Conroy was gone from Britain.
And yes, there was political maneuvering involved in choosing a lady-in waiting, and a scandal or two associated with Victoria's ladies.
Two years after the wedding Bessie moved to Malfoy Manor to work in the nursery. Lessons for the little Malfoys provided her with an education. When the children were older she became Mrs. Malfoy's personal maid and eventually married a squib she met during the family's winters in London.
