Windsor Castle was better in the winter than in the summer.
Victoria would love to be anywhere alone with Uncle Leopold. So he took her hand, and while Mamma talked to Louisa Lewis about the arrangements she had made for the honeymoon, and Charles went off on his own, Victoria and Uncle Leopold walked in the gardens and assured each other of their undying love, admitting that they could feel no such love for any other. So that was very comforting since she was soon to lose Feodora.
‘You are sad because your dear sister is going away,’ said Leopold, ‘but I am here, my darling. Do you know that I have just refused the offer of a crown … for your sake.’
‘Oh, Uncle Leopold!’
‘Yes, the Greeks wanted me to become their King. That would have meant leaving England. I could not endure that. Not when my dear little love of a niece is here.’
She clung to his hand, tears in her eyes; they stood and embraced; Uncle Leopold wept too; like the King, he wept in a pleasant way without any reddening or swelling of the eyes. It was elegant weeping. I must learn to weep as they do, thought Victoria; because hers was the kindly sentimental nature which demanded much shedding of tears.
But how pleasant it was to walk with Uncle Leopold through the gardens which he had helped to create and which he loved, and to hear him talk of Charlotte and the great tragedy of his life.
‘Of course,’ he said, ‘I had to guide Charlotte. She was a hoyden, a tomboy, which is not really very becoming for a prospective Queen. I was constantly warning her. Dear Charlotte. Sometimes she would get a little angry with me and accuse me of being over-critical.’
‘Angry with you , Uncle Leopold!’
‘Not really angry. She was devoted to me. The short time we were married was the only time she was ever happy. She said so often. Every criticism was for her own good.’
‘Did she know that?’
‘I think she realised it. She was not always very wise. I think my dear little Victoria may well be wiser than Charlotte.’
He pressed her hand. She would be wise. She would listen. She would not complain at criticism – especially the loving tender criticism such as Uncle Leopold would give her.
‘Dearest Uncle, you will always be near me?’
‘While you need me.’
‘I know I am going to need you all my life.’
It was the answer he wanted.
When they returned to the house Feodora and her bridegroom were there. Feodora looked rather flushed and excited and she whispered to Victoria that she was full of hope that she would be happy.
And while the grown-ups talked, Victoria was allowed to visit Louisa Lewis in her own room which was a part of the ritual at Claremont and when the door shut on them Louisa said as she always did: ‘There now, we can be comfortable.’
And comfortable they were, for it did not matter what one said to Louisa. She thought everything clever and so like Charlotte, which was the highest praise she could bestow. Victoria was growing fast; Louisa was astonished every time she saw her. She was getting more like Charlotte every day.
‘Charlotte was not pretty, was she?’
‘Charlotte had no need of prettiness. She was the most lively, attractive girl I ever saw.’
‘Was she a little like the Duke of Gloucester?’
‘Good gracious me, what a question. The Duke of Gloucester! The Princess Mary’s husband … now what put it into your head that Charlotte could be one little bit like him?’
‘Someone told me that I was like him.’
‘You … a dainty pretty little girl like you! That was nonsense.’
‘I thought it was,’ said Victoria. ‘I think the person who said it was angry with me and wanted to alarm me.’
‘Nobody could be angry with you for long. In any case, my love, don’t you believe it. Oh dear, you’ve torn your dress. Let me mend it. How Charlotte used to tear her things! She kept me and Mrs Gagarin busy, I can tell you. Poor Gagarin, she adored Charlotte; every stitch was put in
Victoria would love to be anywhere alone with Uncle Leopold. So he took her hand, and while Mamma talked to Louisa Lewis about the arrangements she had made for the honeymoon, and Charles went off on his own, Victoria and Uncle Leopold walked in the gardens and assured each other of their undying love, admitting that they could feel no such love for any other. So that was very comforting since she was soon to lose Feodora.
‘You are sad because your dear sister is going away,’ said Leopold, ‘but I am here, my darling. Do you know that I have just refused the offer of a crown … for your sake.’
‘Oh, Uncle Leopold!’
‘Yes, the Greeks wanted me to become their King. That would have meant leaving England. I could not endure that. Not when my dear little love of a niece is here.’
She clung to his hand, tears in her eyes; they stood and embraced; Uncle Leopold wept too; like the King, he wept in a pleasant way without any reddening or swelling of the eyes. It was elegant weeping. I must learn to weep as they do, thought Victoria; because hers was the kindly sentimental nature which demanded much shedding of tears.
But how pleasant it was to walk with Uncle Leopold through the gardens which he had helped to create and which he loved, and to hear him talk of Charlotte and the great tragedy of his life.
‘Of course,’ he said, ‘I had to guide Charlotte. She was a hoyden, a tomboy, which is not really very becoming for a prospective Queen. I was constantly warning her. Dear Charlotte. Sometimes she would get a little angry with me and accuse me of being over-critical.’
‘Angry with you , Uncle Leopold!’
‘Not really angry. She was devoted to me. The short time we were married was the only time she was ever happy. She said so often. Every criticism was for her own good.’
‘Did she know that?’
‘I think she realised it. She was not always very wise. I think my dear little Victoria may well be wiser than Charlotte.’
He pressed her hand. She would be wise. She would listen. She would not complain at criticism – especially the loving tender criticism such as Uncle Leopold would give her.
‘Dearest Uncle, you will always be near me?’
‘While you need me.’
‘I know I am going to need you all my life.’
It was the answer he wanted.
When they returned to the house Feodora and her bridegroom were there. Feodora looked rather flushed and excited and she whispered to Victoria that she was full of hope that she would be happy.
And while the grown-ups talked, Victoria was allowed to visit Louisa Lewis in her own room which was a part of the ritual at Claremont and when the door shut on them Louisa said as she always did: ‘There now, we can be comfortable.’
And comfortable they were, for it did not matter what one said to Louisa. She thought everything clever and so like Charlotte, which was the highest praise she could bestow. Victoria was growing fast; Louisa was astonished every time she saw her. She was getting more like Charlotte every day.
‘Charlotte was not pretty, was she?’
‘Charlotte had no need of prettiness. She was the most lively, attractive girl I ever saw.’
‘Was she a little like the Duke of Gloucester?’
‘Good gracious me, what a question. The Duke of Gloucester! The Princess Mary’s husband … now what put it into your head that Charlotte could be one little bit like him?’
‘Someone told me that I was like him.’
‘You … a dainty pretty little girl like you! That was nonsense.’
‘I thought it was,’ said Victoria. ‘I think the person who said it was angry with me and wanted to alarm me.’
‘Nobody could be angry with you for long. In any case, my love, don’t you believe it. Oh dear, you’ve torn your dress. Let me mend it. How Charlotte used to tear her things! She kept me and Mrs Gagarin busy, I can tell you. Poor Gagarin, she adored Charlotte; every stitch was put in
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