The Queen and Lord M by Jean Plaidy Page A

her room when he left at ten o’clock and wrote in her Journal:
‘Each time I see him I feel more confidence in him. I find him very kind in his manner.’
    Her thoughts were full of him. What, without him, would have seemed a formidable task, with him was an exciting adventure.
    Lehzen came in and said anxiously that it had been such a long tiring day and she must be exhausted.
    ‘I feel exhilarated, Lehzen,’ replied Victoria. ‘But I agree that it has been the strangest day of my life. I thank God that I have the best of Prime Ministers to guide me. Lehzen, you must have some post in my household.’
    ‘I don’t think that would be right,’ said Lehzen slowly.
    ‘Lehzen! You’re not thinking of leaving me!’
    ‘Never while I can be of the slightest use to you.’
    ‘Use! Don’t talk of use! You are my friend and always will be. Do not imagine that the Queen will forget the Princess’s dearest friend.’
    ‘Your generosity and good nature touches me as always. Let me remain with you as your friend, to help you when you need help, to comfort you when you need comfort. That’s all I ask.’
    Victoria threw her arms round Lehzen’s neck. ‘You are right,’ she said. ‘You shall always remain with me as my friend .’
    Victoria suddenly remembered her mother.
    ‘I should go down to Mamma and say goodnight, I suppose, for after all she is my mother.’
    Lehzen agreed, secretly delighting in the humiliation of the Duchess.
    So the Queen descended to the Duchess’s apartments and bade goodnight to her mother. There was some display of affection because that was necessary, Victoria decided, but it was a very formal goodnight.
    Then Victoria ascended the stairs to her own room. Gleefully she looked at the bed – the only bed in the room.
    ‘Fancy,’ she murmured. ‘I had to be eighteen and a queen before I was allowed to have a room to myself.’
    Then to bed, her thoughts full of that strange day and they were dominated, of course, by her handsome though ageing Prime Minister who was undoubtedly the most charming and attractive man she had ever met.

Chapter III
    THE SENSATIONAL PAST
OF A PRIME MINISTER
    O n his way to Melbourne House from Kensington, Lord Melbourne considered the events of the day and felt exhausted by his own emotions. He was extremely sensitive and if his feelings were somewhat superficial while he suffered them they were real enough. The tears came easily to his eyes – as Victoria had noticed and had warmed towards him because of this – but they did not spring from very deep wells. At the same time he had been deeply touched today by the prospect of this young girl who had never really emerged from the schoolroom, yet who had become overnight the Queen of England.
    An enchanting creature he thought her, so natural, so honest. Caroline had been much younger when he had first met her. What a contrast! Caroline seemed to materialise on the carriage seat beside him to mock him as she had so often during the years when they were together. A mischievous sprite – he had always thought her, not entirely human – with her enormous hazel eyes and her hair the colour of ripe corn. How she had shocked everyone by cutting it off and wearing it like a boy’s! Caroline was unique. There would never be anyone else like her. Thank God, said the cynical Melbourne. No one could afford two Carolines in one lifetime, few could survive one; but he being himself – suave, civilised, intellectually superior to so many of his colleagues – had done so. Not without some cost. He shuddered faintly to recall the days of passion, of hopes, of quarrels and reconciliations, and the wild mad fascination of Caroline Lamb.
    A new reign was about to begin and he had lived through three of them already: not a very admirable trio, he thought with a smile. Victoria’s grandfather, poor mad George III; her gouty extravagant uncle George IV – who though he might have been a Prince Charming in his youth had