Disclaimer: I do not own any of the historical characters in Victoria nor do I own the TV series which was written by Daisy Goodwin. Any lines from the show are also not mine and are just borrowed from Daisy Goodwin and ITV Victoria.
"How dare you? May I remind you that, while you were looking at paintings in Italy, I was ruling this country? Yet you have been here a few days and you assume you know my people better than I do. I do not need you to tell me what to think, Albert."
"No. That's Lord Melbourne's job."
Albert storms away from Victoria, his mind a muddle of anger and jealousy and frustration.
He does not look back. He just assumes that she is following him as he heads back towards the horses. He hears no noise but thinks she is only keeping her distance out of irritation.
He mounts his horse and rides away without waiting for her. She is, he knows, an accomplished horsewoman and perfectly able to get back herself.
After all, he thinks, she does not seem to want his opinions or help at all.
"Lord Alfred. Did you return with the Queen?"
"No, I came back with Prince Ernest. We were err... superfluous."
"Ah."
Melbourne considers returning to London. He is not sure he can bear to hear of the engagement that is sure to soon arise.
He wants the queen to be happy, but that does not mean that it won't hurt for him to see her with the prince.
However if he goes now it may take longer for the news to reach him, and he is not sure that he can handle that state of not knowing for too long.
Better to wait and get it over with. Then he can return to London with the excuse of the House and bury himself in his work for a few days, until he is tolerably able to be in her presence without revealing the true extent of his despair over her upcoming marriage.
For now he will have a very large brandy in the library and try to let Shakespeare's works distract him for a while.
Victoria sits at the foot of a tree, arms cradling the whimpering Dash as she shivers in the chilly air.
Albert is out of sight. He walks so fast she cannot keep up and in her fury she refuses to call out and show weakness by asking him to slow down.
Now she is faced with three paths and she has no idea which is the correct one. The forest is dense all around her and she is completely unable to tell one tree or shrub from another so she has no guidance from her surroundings.
So she sits at the base of the tree and tries to soothe poor Dash, even as she begins to panic a little herself.
Albert has behaved most despicably. He accuses her of being unfeeling about her people, tries to suggest that Lord M is not honourable in his intentions, and treats her like she is an errant child.
And to leave her alone is so ungentlemanly. She knows Lord M would never behave so – he is always so concerned for her safety and wellbeing.
"You and your safety are the only things that disturb my peace of mind."
She longs for Lord M's comforting presence but she wonders if he is even at Windsor still.
She has, she thinks, been quite unjust in her behaviour towards him. Giving the flower he so carefully cultivated especially for her to Albert on an off-hand whim is not becoming of anyone, especially a queen. And how can she have let Albert's looks affect her so much as to allow herself to flirt with him, to almost kiss him, to in fact start to think that proposing might be a good idea. So ridiculous, to give such little consideration to such a serious matter, especially when not so long ago she was declaring her love to Lord M.
And she still loves him. Infatuation and temporary insanity over Albert aside, her feelings for her Prime Minister still burn deep in her heart, constant and true. She has allowed herself to forget, momentarily, but that is a mistake she will not be repeating.
Albert is a silly boy. Perhaps one day he will be a great man, but he is not the husband she needs or wants.
Now she is almost thankful for her situation, worrying though it may be, for it has allowed her to find her head again, to remember what (and who) is really important.
With a new determination she rises with Dash in her arms and sets off resolutely down the left path – she wants to get back to Windsor as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, as the sky begins to darken, she currently has no idea that her chosen path is leading her deeper into the forest and not back towards the castle.
They all congregate in the dining room to eat – Melbourne, the princes, King Leopold, the duchess, Lord Alfred and the queen's ladies – only to find that the queen is not present.
"Did you not return together?" Leopold asks his nephew.
Albert flushes. He has been avoiding the man, well aware that his failure to charm his cousin will lead to a long and frustrating lecture from his ambitious uncle.
"We had a disagreement in the forest. I left and I believe she followed me."
Albert looks to the queen's ladies but they all appear as puzzled as he is, "the queen has not been with us," says Harriet, "we thought she was with the princes."
Melbourne feels the first stirrings of alarm. He is thankful that he has not returned to London.
"Has anyone seen the queen since the forest?" he asks, calmly and clearly, but with a hard tinge to his voice that betrays the seriousness of the situation.
They all shake their heads, slowly and with a dawning comprehension that something has gone very wrong.
Melbourne lets out a quiet oath and turns to Lord Alfred, "get guards assembled on horseback with dogs and lanterns and bells. They need to scour the forest as quickly as possible."
Lord Alfred nods and hurries away, pleased both to have a task and to escape Lord Melbourne's stormy gaze.
"I shall get my horse and–" Albert begins to say.
But Melbourne turns an icy glare on him, "I think perhaps not, Your Serene Highness. I believe that you have done quite enough today."
Melbourne's words are spoken with exceptional politeness but there is an almost mad edge to his voice that everyone is quite aware is threatening.
Frustrated and teasing and sarcastic as the Prime Minister can be, he is very rarely truly angry. Yet now, with the queen missing and alone in the forest, quite possibly in danger, his whole manner shows him to be a man on edge.
If something happens to the queen, Emma thinks, Prince Albert might not be safe even if he travels across the ocean to return home.
Melbourne's mind is chaotic as he issues orders for a pack full of blankets to be brought to him and sends a messenger to the kitchens to ensure that hot drinks and food will be available as soon as they bring the queen back.
Because they will bring her back. He will accept no other outcome.
And a doctor too, he tells them. From the little that the prince has reluctantly told them about his time in the forest with the queen Dash is certainly injured and Melbourne knows the queen, no matter what state she might be in, will be concerned for her dog. He does not like to consider that the queen might be hurt herself, but he knows it is a possibility.
If she has even a scratch on her Melbourne does not think he will ever forgive Prince Albert.
Albert wants to argue with Melbourne but he does not feel he will win.
He might be a prince and Melbourne only a Viscount but the Prime Minister has an air of authority now that Albert is not sure he will ever be able to match.
And does he really deserve to go and look for Victoria when he is technically the reason she is out there?
Melbourne certainly does not seem to think so.
Albert does not like the Prime Minister but in this he thinks it is unwise to go against him. He has told Victoria that Melbourne is not serious and he mostly stands by his words, but he thinks that Victoria may be the one thing that the Prime Minister is truly serious about – and heaven help the one who hurts her.
Victoria finds she is unable to go further.
She has been walking for what feels like hours and the path she had been so sure would lead her out of the forest seems only to have brought her deeper into its heart.
She has had no food or drink for hours. Her arms ache from carrying Dash and her riding clothes are insufficient to keep her warm as the air around her gets colder.
What is the point in continuing on? She can see barely a foot ahead of her in the darkness and fog that now surrounds her. Better to sit and rest a while, and hope someone will come for her.
Surely, she thinks, they must have noticed her absence by now.
Lord M will have realised, she is positive … if he is still at Windsor that is.
She wraps her arms further around Dash. The cold is getting to him and his leg is still bloody, with a little bit of bone poking out. He does not seem able to do more than whimper at the moment, though, clearly weakened by injury and lack of sustenance.
She worries terribly for him. He is one of her few friends and it will hurt terribly if she loses him.
Her eyes start to droop. She is so tired and the ground, though cold, seems almost comfortable in her daze.
Perhaps she might be able to doze for a while, just until someone arrives to get her.
Soon. She hopes they come soon. She feels almost like she is floating and while it is a pleasanter sensation than being cold with aching limbs she thinks – somewhere in the back of her mind where she is more alert – that what she is feeling is not at all good.
She wishes for Lord M. Surely it will be him who comes. No one else has ever been as attentive to her wellbeing as him.
Dear Lord M.
Her eyes close, and her arms lose their grip on Dash, who begins to bark weakly.
A figure on horseback holding a lantern hears the noise and changes direction, moving closer to where Victoria sits, slumped against a tree stump.
Melbourne has been riding for almost fifteen minutes so far with no luck.
He worries. In this cold, after so many hours outside with no real shelter, every second the queen stays lost means she is in more danger.
His fist tightens over his horse's reigns as he thinks of Prince Albert. How could the fool leave the queen alone in the forest? And now anything could have happened to her.
He does not think he will ever find any solace again if something serious happens to her … in fact he is quite sure of it.
(she has been his miracle, the happiness he never expected. He knows it will not happen again).
His horse moves slowly. With his lantern the only source of light and the fog getting thicker by the minute it is not safe to go any faster than a slow trot.
A few minutes more pass and then he hears it.
Barking. Very faint but definitely there.
He urges his horse in the direction of the sound.
Hope fills him. The hunting dogs would be much louder. Surely this sound can only be Dash.
The barking gets louder as he moves forward and then he spots her, sat on the ground, propped up against a tree with her head lolling to the side and Dash whimpering on her lap.
He jumps down from his horse and rushes forward, picking up her wrist to feel a slow but fairly steady pulse.
Her hands and face are even whiter than usual and icy cold. He pulls blankets from the pack he has with him and wraps them around her tiny form.
He touches her face, just to remind himself that she is real.
He has found her.
Warm hands. Gentle touch. Soothing voice.
Lord M.
Home her mind whispers.
Victoria can barely keep her eyes open but she knows it is him. She knows she has no reason to worry now.
She will always be safe in his arms.
The queen shivers. Her lips look blue.
"Can you talk, Ma'am?" Melbourne asks.
She stirs and her eyes open slowly. She nods in response to his question but when she speaks her voice is frail and unsteady.
"I thought … I was sure … sure you would have returned to London."
"I decided to stay, Ma'am."
She can only smile weakly but the expression brings him some relief.
"I am so glad … so glad you are here, Lord M."
Dash gives a weak bark and the queen tucks him further under her blankets. Melbourne can see that the dog is injured but there is not much he can do in the dark and with no useful knowledge of animal anatomy. The best place for Dash, who like the queen is clearly suffering from the cold, right now is, he thinks, under the blankets with the queen.
He helps her to her feet, and worries when she is unsteady and her eyes flutter open and closed.
"You must stay awake, Ma'am," he insists, wanting to be gentle but knowing that for her safety he must be forceful and firm.
She focuses for a few moments, long enough for him to step aside and ring his bell to alert the rest of the search party, but as soon as he tries to get her onto the horse she sways and crumples into his arms.
He keeps one arm around her and rings the bell more urgently.
Lord Alfred is the first to ride up after Melbourne rings the bell. The look of relief on the young man's face is obvious but Melbourne does not have much sympathy for him – he should have known better than to leave his queen alone with only Prince Albert after all.
"Get the dog seen to," he tells Lord Alfred, retrieving Dash from the queen and passing him over, "there's something wrong with his leg."
Lord Alfred nods but looks to the queen, still unsteady on her feet.
"I will look after Her Majesty," Melbourne says.
He cannot bring himself to let anyone else near, cannot trust any but his own hands to bring her safely back to Windsor.
Guards on horseback come trotting into view as Lord Alfred rides off with Dash.
Melbourne calls one of them forward to steady the queen as he mounts his horse. The guards, under his direction and with great care, then assist the queen onto Melbourne's horse so that she is sitting in front of the Prime Minister.
It is not the ideal situation, for Melbourne finds that he has to wrap one hand around the queen's waist to keep her steady and the result is that the two of them are far closer than they should be, far more intimate than is proper.
But what else can he do? The queen is in no state to be on a horse without aid and surely it is better for her to ride with someone she knows well rather than a guard who is practically a stranger.
He thinks of one of the guards – some faceless, unmoved man – with his hand on the queen, and he feels a flash of anger at the thought.
He tries to calm himself. He needs to focus on the queen and getting her back to Windsor as soon as possible.
He needs to not focus on how distracting it is to have the queen so near, or how right it feels. But he finds that he is unable to help it. It isn't a choice anymore for him (was it ever?), only a certainty.
Victoria barely notices being lifted onto the horse but she feels a secure arm around her waist and knows it is Lord M.
She does not worry, not when he is with her.
She feels movement as the horse begins to trot. Lord M's hand tightens around her slightly and she leans back to rest her head against the soft wool of his jacket.
She can hear the murmur of his voice. She is not able to make out exactly what he is saying – he speaks quietly and her head is still foggy – but his voice is comforting and it lulls her into a peaceful state while still ensuring she stays awake.
They ride slowly but she does not mind the time. Lord M has found her and she does not fear the forest anymore.
Melbourne sighs in relief when Windsor comes into view.
He finds most of those not currently following him back from the forest waiting when he comes to a stop and he finds many ready to aid him in helping the queen disembark from the horse.
He sweeps her up in his arms and carries her then.
Because damn propriety in a situation like this.
Through doorways. Up the stairs. He carries her without ever betraying tiredness.
He will not let anyone else help. When Prince Albert comes near his eyes flash and the prince wisely falls back.
Her eyes are shut most of the time but he notes that when they open they gaze at him in a way that is far more direct than it should be considering her exhaustion.
Direct and thankful and loving.
She has never been much good at hiding what she feels.
He looks away, for with every moment he meets such a gaze he falls even more for her.
He does not think it should be possible, to love her more, but he is learning that there is always more he can find to adore in her.
When he reaches her chambers Melbourne lays the queen carefully down on her bed, his hand brushing her soft, silky hair out of her face.
He can hear people coming – Baroness Lehzen and the doctor and the queen's ladies and her family – and he knows that he should step back, should not allow them to find him so close to the queen now that he no longer needs to carry her.
But she reaches out to him, grasps his hand with a surprising burst of strength.
"Stay, Lord M … please."
He wants to, he really does, but this he knows is a step too far even in such unusual circumstances.
"I cannot, Ma'am," he tells her, "your dressers will have to change your dress, you surely need a hot bath, and of course the doctor will come to examine you. It is not right or proper for me to remain."
In normal circumstances she might have argued with him, but her exhaustion is obvious and so she reluctantly nods.
"But you must stay close," she says, "dear Lord M, you are the only one I can really trust at the moment."
"Of course, Ma'am."
He cannot refuse her in this, especially not after she has suffered such an ordeal.
She lets go of his hand and he moves towards the doorway.
His body feels like it needs a rest but his mind is active and he knows he will not sleep until he is absolutely sure the queen will fully recover from her hours in the forest.
He passes the Duchess of Kent and King Leopold on his way out. The queen's mother is quite hysterical at the sight of her daughter's pale stillness and Melbourne feels moved enough to tell her as he walks out that the queen is tired but able to talk, which is a good sign. King Leopold says nothing – it seems that genuine worry for his niece is battling with his perception of Melbourne as a rival for Prince Albert and the resulting stalemate prompts him to give neither praise nor censure.
Baroness Lehzen rushes past, frantic worry on her face, and he notes that she looks at him more kindly than usual, and with more than a little gratitude. The queen is dear to her and though she is jealous of sharing her affections he thinks that she feels she must thank the one who aided in ensuring the queen's safety.
Melbourne makes his way to the library, thinking that he may as well try to pass the time and distract himself with some reading.
He sees the queen's ladies huddling outside her bedchamber, walks past the dressers heading up the stairs with more blankets, and finally comes across the two princes just before he reaches the library.
"And how is my cousin?" asks Prince Ernest with his usual joviality only slightly dimmed by the day's events.
Prince Albert is silent but Melbourne notices that he pays close attention to his answer.
"The doctor is going to see her," he explains, "but to my admittedly untrained eye there does not appear to be anything seriously wrong. The cold and fatigue, I think, are the worst of it."
Prince Albert gives a curt nod and leaves abruptly, still without a word, when Melbourne has finished speaking.
"I apologise for my brother," says Prince Ernest, "I know you must not think well of him after all this but he is a good man, only not quite sure how to act here in a foreign land … and he does not have much experience in making himself agreeable to a lady."
"I am sure Prince Albert is an estimable man," Melbourne agrees, though his voice is rather cold.
Prince Ernest picks up on his disgust with Prince Albert's conduct – the elder brother might like to be seen as only a lover of women and pleasure but he is, Melbourne notes, quite perceptive all the same.
He seems to understand, though, the reasons behind Melbourne's ire and he does not say anything else, only offers a knowing nod and follows his brother.
Melbourne moves into the library, pours himself a large drink and drops thankfully into an armchair.
Albert does not know quite how to act now.
If things were bad before – new country, unfamiliar language, and hostile people – then now they are sure to be even worse. Now he is not just an irritant to them, he is the cause of their queen's hurt.
He regrets it, more than he can properly express.
He was angry. He still is angry – Victoria is more serious than he once believed but she does not take advice or criticism well, even if it is well meant.
And he does mean well, even though others may not believe it.
If he had known that she would not manage to get out of the forest then of course he would have gone back. He has been frustrated often with her these past days but he has never wished harm upon her.
And now he thinks he may as well return to Coburg. He does not think – despite all his uncle's hopefulness – that Victoria will ever consider marriage with him after this.
He and Ernest wander around near the library, unsure of what to do. They (he) will not likely be welcome anywhere near the queen's rooms, especially not if Baroness Lehzen has anything to do with it.
Albert wants to apologise. He and Victoria made a real connection in the woods, he thinks, and he so wishes to try and repair that now.
But will she even see him? She has a temper and he thinks she will surely be angry at his conduct.
His musings are interrupted by footsteps and he turns to see Lord Melbourne walking towards them.
Lord Melbourne. Prime Minister. Victoria's precious Lord M.
The jealousy bubbles up even though he attempts to supress it.
He tries to see nothing extraordinary in this man but he knows he is unjust. Lord Melbourne has a good heart and he knows that whatever his faults (and Albert likes to think he has many) Melbourne is an excellent friend and advisor to the queen.
And more. Albert does not want to believe it but he knows it is true.
The way Victoria looks at him, speaks of him, defends him.
The way Lord Melbourne looked when he brought the queen back from the forest, the anger in his eyes when he realised Albert had left her, the way his eyes always find hers in a room.
So Albert listens to Ernest's question and Melbourne's update on the queen in silence.
Then he leaves, because he finds it hard to look at Melbourne, to see the man preferred by the woman he is beginning to realise could have made him so very happy.
But it is not to be. He has to accept it.
For Victoria there will only ever be Melbourne.
Her dressers come and help her to the bath.
The warmth of the water chases away the cold that has seeped into her bones and makes her feel human once more.
They lay out a pristine white nightgown and when she puts it on she feels so clean and fresh. She climbs under the covers of her bed and revels in the feeling of comfort and cosiness.
Then she sees the doctor. He asks so many questions and does more tests than she can count while her mama flits about the room in a manner that is not at all helpful, and uncle Leopold tries to tell her that of course it was all a big misunderstanding and does she not want to see Albert, and Lehzen watches her in a way that makes her feel loved but also a little bit smothered.
She wants Lord M. He is always a calm, reassuring presence and he cares without coddling, advises without commanding.
She should have insisted he stay. Should have commanded it.
But he always tries to do what is right and proper, however much she might dislike it.
So she waits.
She lets the doctor ramble and compliment and fawn before he finally gets to the crux of the matter and declares that all she need do is rest in bed for a day or two and then take it easy for a few weeks, and beware of the possibility of a nasty cold.
She sends him away as soon as he finishes speaking, trying not to betray her eagerness for him to leave and allow visitors in.
Or one visitor in particular.
At her request Lehzen fetches Emma Portman.
"Emma, you must go and find Lord M. He promised he would come and see me when the doctor had gone."
Emma nods with a knowing smile and disappears out of the door.
Uncle Leopold looks alarmed. So do mama and Lehzen.
"Do you really think that is wise?" asks her uncle, trying to keep his tone neutral but failing, "you should really rest, my dear niece, and I am sure your Lord M has retired by now. If it is company you would like then I will happily send for Albert."
"No," Victoria says decisively, "I do not wish to see Albert tonight. And of course Lord M will not have retired. He promised particularly to stay so that he might come up once the doctor had visited."
"But Majesty," Lehzen protests, "you are in your nightclothes."
Victoria laughs, "you can hardly complain about that since I am very much covered by blankets and bed sheets. And I must see Lord M – he was, after all, the one who ensured my wellbeing following today's … incident."
"Shall I stay, Majesty?"
"That is quite alright, Lehzen."
"But Majesty –"
"No, Lehzen," Victoria insists sharply, becoming extremely irritated by everyone's belief that Lord M was some nefarious person seeking to harm her in some way, "I will see him alone."
Lehzen falls silent. She knows Victoria will not be moved. Uncle Leopold mutters something uncomplimentary about Lord M under his breath but she chooses not to listen. Mama continues to flit about the room looking panicked.
"I will see him alone," she repeats.
They all hear the command in her voice and move towards the door.
She is alone and feels like she can finally breathe.
Melbourne goes through half a dozen books trying to find one that can keep his mind away from the queen's condition.
But his thoughts continue to drift where they should not – to the feel of the queen's hand in his, the way she trusts him, how she asked him to stay, how much he wants to be by her side.
Emma interrupts his musings, "the queen is asking for you, William."
He looks at the clock and realises that almost two hours have passed since he left her side.
He nods at Emma and, placing his half empty glass of brandy down, gets to his feet.
All tiredness has left him at the prospect of seeing the queen.
She looks much better now, clean and wrapped up warm. Her cheeks have some colour.
He kneels to kiss her hand, "Your Majesty."
"I am so pleased to see you, Lord M."
"I am very glad that you are looking better, Ma'am. The doctor did not have any concerns?"
"Oh I am quite well … thanks to you – the doctor says I must rest in bed a day or two but I am sure I will be recovered by morning."
He smiles at her stubbornness but is a little concerned, "it would not hurt though, Ma'am, to be a little less active for a few days."
"But I have my boxes and all the reports. And I am really not at all fond of Windsor – I should like to return to Buckingham Palace as soon as possible."
"I am sure your work can wait, Ma'am, though I applaud your resolve, and any urgent matters can be dealt with here so you may still rest. I am afraid the doctor will surely not let you travel so soon – you must bear it here a while longer, Ma'am … besides, I thought you had experienced a recent enthusiasm for Windsor."
She blushes, "I thought so, but I was mistaken."
He cannot help the hope that arises within him.
"Are you sure, Ma'am?" he asks, emphasising so as to be positive she understands him.
"Quite sure, Lord M," she tells him.
She pauses and then abandons the pretence between them so that they can say what they really mean, "I was mistaken, Lord M, about Albert."
It is all he wants to hear but he still has to say something in the prince's defence. On a personal level Melbourne knows it will take him a long time to forgive the prince's conduct towards the queen, but he also knows the prince is a good man.
"We all make mistakes, Ma'am. The prince was careless and unwise but I do not believe there was anything malicious in his actions."
The queen looks thoughtful. She is usually quick to judge and slow to change her mind but in this she seems to take some time.
That is good. Decisions of this magnitude, especially for a queen, are not to be rushed.
"Albert is a boy, Lord M. Rather a silly boy sometimes. But he will be a great man, I am sure. He is not, however, the one I have chosen. I will forgive him for what has happened … I forgive him already, really, but it is not what occurred today that has made my decision. It only jolted me a bit after I let myself get swept away for a moment or two. After the ball … after our conversation … I think I was trying too hard to find that person you said I would give my heart to without reservation. I attempted to forget, you see, that I had already done so. You said you could not, would not accept it, but Lord M my heart was yours … it still is. I only tried to pretend a while, to try and show that I could do my duty too, even if it was hard."
She pauses then, takes a breath, and reaches out to him.
He feels no hesitation in taking her hand. He needs it, craves it.
"I am sorry," she says, "so sorry for how I know I hurt you by professing that you had my heart, saying I would never break yours as your wife did, and then letting myself be dazzled by Albert. And he too I have hurt, by acting what I do not truly feel."
He presses a kiss to her hand, his gesture of forgiveness.
She is strong but inexperienced in some areas too, and he thinks that it is natural for her to be confused by what she feels. And he cannot fault her if she chooses a more suitable man than he.
Though of course she says that she has not chosen Prince Albert.
Can he believe it? The queen is so young, deserves so much more than him, will be expected to marry someone far more proper for her station in life.
Yet he thinks of her resolve at Brocket Hall, of the heartbreak on her face when he rejected her, of the way she looks at him now and the ease with which their hands intertwine. How right it all seems between them.
"You came and found me in the forest, Lord M, as I know you will always find me when I am lost or confused or scared. There has never been anyone with whom I have felt such safety and comfort, such a sense of belonging and unity."
He thinks, oddly, for a moment of those outside the room, probably made anxious or suspicious by their quiet conversation, who would likely be appalled to witness him kneeling by the queen's side with her hand in his, speaking of love.
Does he care?
Only, he thinks, insofar as it affects the security and wellbeing and happiness of his beloved queen.
"Ma'am," he says, but no, that is not right, not for this.
"Victoria," he begins again and sees a wide smile on her face at his use of her Christian name, "you know, I think, my feelings. But you must not consider them, you must consider only your own. My greatest desire is for you to have the life you deserve, a joyful and fulfilling life. And you must not hesitate in telling me if you feel like Prince Albert or any other could make you happier in your life. I never want to be a source of regret or resentment for you."
"And if I do not feel like that?" she asks, "if I believe that you, dearest Lord M, are my truest and surest road to happiness – what would you say then?"
He looks at her, trembling and pale but with a look of intense nervous anticipation on her face.
What he says now, he knows, will change everything.
But there is really only one choice.
"If that is the case then I would say it would be my honour to love and cherish you all my life."
The smile becomes a blinding beam, her whole face lighting up in delight.
She pushes aside her blankets to surge forward and cup his face with her hands and kiss him.
And isn't it glorious, this first meeting of their lips, the culmination of years of friendship and respect and so many feelings, the bliss of a beautiful conclusion.
He puts all his promises into that kiss. To adore and protect and support her for the rest of his life.
He loves her so – his heart sings with it.
They are united now no matter what obstacles come their way. For better or worse.
Together.
Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.