things you say!’
‘Do I? Perhaps I say too rashly what comes into my mind. Lehzen says I do.’
‘Oh dear, when I think of you here without me, I shall weep, I know I shall.’
‘But you will come to Kensington and perhaps I shall pay a visit to Germany.’
‘I shall have to come to Kensington for they will never let you out of their sight.’
Victoria sighed. ‘I wish they would let me be alone with myself … just for a little while.’
‘I know how you feel, darling. I think I am going to be freer now.’
‘You will have Ernest.’
‘But he will not be a jailer like …’
Silence. She was going to say like Mamma, thought Victoria. And it’s true. Mamma is like a jailer. How I should like to be free too.
Feodora put her arms about her.
‘But I must not spoil your pretty dress. When I go away, Vicky, I want to take your dress with me. I want to take it out and look at it and remember just how you looked today.’
‘Oh, you shall,’ cried Victoria. It was a notion which greatly appealed to her sentimental heart. Then the realization of her loss came back to her and tears filled her eyes.
The bells were ringing all over Kensington to tell people that this was Feodora’s wedding day. There were crowds gathering outside the Palace because people had heard that the King was coming to give the bride away, making this a royal occasion.
The Duchess, overpowering in lace ribbons and feathers, presided noisily in the Grand Hall. Everyone must be in exact order of precedence. There was Victoria, looking very pretty – and what was more important, healthy – in her white dress, her fair hair specially curled for the occasion. Lehzen had spent a long time on it. Everyone, thought the Duchess, must be aware of the child’s blooming looks. There was Clarence – what a ridiculous old fellow! – and Adelaide, her eyes on Victoria with that amused affection she had for all the children. And Victoria was speaking to her, telling her about the dolls, which was most unsuitable. Victoria must be told of this later. But it was really Adelaide’s fault for encouraging her. One would have thought this was a cosy family meeting in some quite inferior country gentleman’s home, instead of a wedding in the royal family with the King due to arrive at any moment.
The wedding was to take place in the Cupola Room – so suitable for such ceremonies. Victoria had been christened here. What an occasion when the King had been so unkind to the baby’s parents and refused to give permission for the child to have the names they had chosen for her. They had wanted Georgiana, Elizabeth. Queen’s names both of them. And the King – Regent he had been then – had insisted on Alexandrina Victoria. But it was amazing how one quickly grew accustomed to names. Victoria now seemed as much like a Queen’s name as any of them.
Oh dear, the King was late. Was he going to humiliate the Duchess of Kent again.
‘It looks to me as though the King is not coming,’ said bluff Clarence. Trust him to put it as crudely as that.
Adelaide as usual tried to disguise her husband’s crudity. ‘I heard that His Majesty had begun to feel unwell again.’
‘He’s always up and down,’ said Clarence. ‘One of these days there’ll be no up.’
A shocked silence, during which Clarence noticeably became more royal. He was waiting for George’s death, thought the Duchess, almost as eagerly as she was waiting for his quickly to follow that of the King.
‘His Majesty’s resilience is wonderful,’ said Adelaide. ‘As we have often seen.’
Clarence, seeing himself as King, decided to take charge of the situation. They weren’t going to hang about any longer. It was clear to him that George wasn’t coming.
He took Feodora’s hand. ‘Come, my dear, your Uncle Clarence will do the King’s job. He’ll give you away to your husband, but you look so pretty that I’d never want to give you away unless it was necessary.’
The
‘Do I? Perhaps I say too rashly what comes into my mind. Lehzen says I do.’
‘Oh dear, when I think of you here without me, I shall weep, I know I shall.’
‘But you will come to Kensington and perhaps I shall pay a visit to Germany.’
‘I shall have to come to Kensington for they will never let you out of their sight.’
Victoria sighed. ‘I wish they would let me be alone with myself … just for a little while.’
‘I know how you feel, darling. I think I am going to be freer now.’
‘You will have Ernest.’
‘But he will not be a jailer like …’
Silence. She was going to say like Mamma, thought Victoria. And it’s true. Mamma is like a jailer. How I should like to be free too.
Feodora put her arms about her.
‘But I must not spoil your pretty dress. When I go away, Vicky, I want to take your dress with me. I want to take it out and look at it and remember just how you looked today.’
‘Oh, you shall,’ cried Victoria. It was a notion which greatly appealed to her sentimental heart. Then the realization of her loss came back to her and tears filled her eyes.
The bells were ringing all over Kensington to tell people that this was Feodora’s wedding day. There were crowds gathering outside the Palace because people had heard that the King was coming to give the bride away, making this a royal occasion.
The Duchess, overpowering in lace ribbons and feathers, presided noisily in the Grand Hall. Everyone must be in exact order of precedence. There was Victoria, looking very pretty – and what was more important, healthy – in her white dress, her fair hair specially curled for the occasion. Lehzen had spent a long time on it. Everyone, thought the Duchess, must be aware of the child’s blooming looks. There was Clarence – what a ridiculous old fellow! – and Adelaide, her eyes on Victoria with that amused affection she had for all the children. And Victoria was speaking to her, telling her about the dolls, which was most unsuitable. Victoria must be told of this later. But it was really Adelaide’s fault for encouraging her. One would have thought this was a cosy family meeting in some quite inferior country gentleman’s home, instead of a wedding in the royal family with the King due to arrive at any moment.
The wedding was to take place in the Cupola Room – so suitable for such ceremonies. Victoria had been christened here. What an occasion when the King had been so unkind to the baby’s parents and refused to give permission for the child to have the names they had chosen for her. They had wanted Georgiana, Elizabeth. Queen’s names both of them. And the King – Regent he had been then – had insisted on Alexandrina Victoria. But it was amazing how one quickly grew accustomed to names. Victoria now seemed as much like a Queen’s name as any of them.
Oh dear, the King was late. Was he going to humiliate the Duchess of Kent again.
‘It looks to me as though the King is not coming,’ said bluff Clarence. Trust him to put it as crudely as that.
Adelaide as usual tried to disguise her husband’s crudity. ‘I heard that His Majesty had begun to feel unwell again.’
‘He’s always up and down,’ said Clarence. ‘One of these days there’ll be no up.’
A shocked silence, during which Clarence noticeably became more royal. He was waiting for George’s death, thought the Duchess, almost as eagerly as she was waiting for his quickly to follow that of the King.
‘His Majesty’s resilience is wonderful,’ said Adelaide. ‘As we have often seen.’
Clarence, seeing himself as King, decided to take charge of the situation. They weren’t going to hang about any longer. It was clear to him that George wasn’t coming.
He took Feodora’s hand. ‘Come, my dear, your Uncle Clarence will do the King’s job. He’ll give you away to your husband, but you look so pretty that I’d never want to give you away unless it was necessary.’
The
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