And so it proved. They stayed for weeks. I had to admit that these two princes were less glamorous than Ferdinand and August, but to me – unlike Victoria – romance was not everything.
I found Ernest to be of good sense, and Albert – why, Albert was well travelled, well educated and delightful. I grew to learn that his burst of lively conversation on the day of the reception was out of character, and that he had forced himself to it in order to make a polite first impression. But that was typical of him, to give of himself.
Each evening, he and I usually found ourselves the most silent members of the family party. But often our eyes would meet and lock as the duchess and the rest went about their lively teasing, scolding, playing and gossiping. Even Victoria could be jollied into laughter on a good day. However, I could also tell that the plaintive, repetitive note in the duchess’s conversation pained Albert as it pained me, and sometimes he would be the first in the evening to rise and say that he must go to bed.
‘What a grouch my brother is!’ Ernest would say. ‘Albert the Grouch. It should be his name in the history books. Early to bed, early to rise, makes a grouch happy, wealthy and wise.’ It made me smile, for Albert seemed far from grouchy to me. And of course Ernest meant it affectionately, for he was devoted to his younger brother.
One morning I came into the German apartment early, there to find Albert alone in the drawing room and deep in Scott’s The Bride of Lammermoor.
‘Are you also a devotee of Sir Walter?’ he asked as he saw me looking at his book. ‘Her Royal Highness, my cousin, has lent me this volume, which I am finding most diverting. She says it is a favourite. I was pleased and surprised to discover that she is fond of reading.’
I could not help but smile, for it was my own copy, and Victoria, never a great bookworm, knew the story only because I had read it aloud to her.
Albert instantly noticed my reaction. ‘Oh …’ he said slowly, ‘I believe that I might have understood. Perhaps the book is yours?’ He flipped upon the title page. ‘Yes, I am right! “Miss V. Conroy”, you have written. How enigmatic of you not to share your Christian name, even with Sir Walter.’
‘Sir,’ I said, ‘pray do not mock me. I am of low station. People don’t need to know my name.’
‘Modest and gentle!’ he said. Then he sighed. ‘I’m afraid that people do know your name, at least your surname. Please – will you sit?’ He got up out of the armchair, patted it to show that I should sit, and positioned himself on a footstool near my knee.
‘May I be completely open?’ he asked. He waited with his head bowed and his hand upon his heart with continental courtesy until I had begged him to go ahead.
‘I have already told you some of what my Uncle Leopold has said about you,’ he began. ‘He believes that you are to be trusted utterly – a person in a thousand, he says.’
During this speech my eyes had become trained intensely downwards towards my lap, my burning gaze almost searing through the skin on the back of my hands. There was no conceivable way that I could meet his gaze while he was talking in this painful manner.
But at the same time the discomfort was exquisite.
‘Say nothing!’ Albert said quickly. ‘I can see what you feel.’ But now it was his turn to glance towards the ground. ‘Yet I’m sorry to say,’ he continued, more reluctantly, ‘that my uncle does not hold your father in such high regard.’
He lifted his eyes back to mine. I stared back, and despite the shameful stain that must remain in my cheeks from his earlier flattery, I was unable to look away. ‘I fear that the princess is not always … well advised,’ he said, groping for words, ‘by those around her.’
‘I cannot help but agree, sir,’ I said simply and sincerely. ‘I do everything I can to counteract the influence of my father, which is sometimes … overbearing.’
It was the first time, I think, that I had spoken of my fears to anyone who was not Lehzen. Yet here I was, sharing them out loud to someone I had only known for a short time. But then, I reassured myself, Albert was very far from being a stranger. In fact, it felt like I had known him forever. It was a warming thought.
‘I can see that it is complicated.’ He sighed again. ‘I can see that it is difficult for you, this loyalty you feel.’
I nodded. He understood. He was a friend.
But then a less pleasant reflection made me suddenly stand up from the chair and prepare to change the subject. Of course, we could not go on being friends like this when he was married.
‘It is my fate, perhaps my burden, to care deeply for the princess,’ I said. ‘Not only out of duty, but also from affection. I really do want nothing more than her happiness.’
I was thinking now of her wedding to this prince with his mobile mouth and his expressive hands, and for the first time it was a grim prospect. Their marriage would cut me off from both of them.
It was becoming inescapable to me that Prince Albert would be an excellent influence upon Victoria. He was calm; he was wise. Even the duchess could see this.
The next morning, she came into the drawing room as I waited for Victoria, and asked me where he was.
‘In the gardens, I believe, Your Grace,’ I said.
I had observed him from the window a few moments before, chatting good-naturedly to one of the gardeners. In fact, I had been wondering if I had enough courage to go out to join him there.
‘Ah, then I must send Vickelchen outside,’ she said. ‘She must spend more time with this suitor of hers.’ The word ‘suitor’ came as a little shock, for her daughter’s marriage had never been discussed directly between us before. She had spoken as if I were privy to Uncle Leopold’s plan and in support of it. I supposed that I was. After all, it was months since he had told me of what he intended. And I could see that Albert was perfect.
‘Indeed,’ the duchess said to herself, so softly that I could hardly hear. ‘You shall not spoil this, Sir John.’ She misted the window glass with her breath as she searched outside for her nephew. Perhaps she belatedly realised her indiscretion, for she turned suddenly towards me.
‘Miss V!’ she said sharply. ‘I know that my brother Leopold has confided in you. You must do everything you can to help the match proceed smoothly. That is my royal command. Your father disagrees, but I cannot allow him to wreck it. There have been … painful scenes.’
At that she bustled off to find Victoria. Left by myself, I wondered for a few regretful moments what kind of quarrels and confusions had taken place between them. Then, as if some superior power was exerting its hold over me, I forgot to worry, and my eyes were drawn out of the window once more in search of a dark blue morning coat topped by a curly brown head.
I knew that Victoria herself scarcely gave Albert a second glance. ‘Oh, Prince Ferdinand!’ she would say to me each morning in the sitting room before her cousins came in to join us. ‘Beautiful Prince Ferdinand! When will it stop hurting, Miss V? I have given my heart utterly and forever to Ferdinand. Ferdinand! What a wonderful, romantic name it is.’ But she admitted that Prince Ernest, with his lively conversation and good spirits, was a pleasant companion for whiling away the hours.
And each morning I would smile at her and say nothing, though one time I had casually asked her what she thought of Prince Albert.
‘Oh, I know that Uncle Leopold wants me to marry him,’ she’d said dismissively. ‘But he’s such a prig! So interested in books and lectures. I could never live with a man like that.’
This had made me both outwardly smile and inwardly wince. She may not have liked it, but it seemed that if Uncle Leopold willed it, then their destiny was to marry.
All at once I felt a little sick inside. The thought made me horribly jealous.
I was beginning to think that it would be utterly delightful to live with a man like Albert. I imagined us sitting each side of the fire in some small apartment like my father’s own at Kensington Palace, not in the splendid surroundings of the princess and duchess’s rooms; each of us reading a book, discussing what we would have for breakfast the next day … The thought seemed both charming, and very, very wicked. He was to be Victoria’s husband! I carefully packed my thoughts away in my mind to turn over later, at night, when I was alone in bed.
I also did not allow myself to dwell on the fact that this visit must inevitably come to an end. If I thought about it at all, I encouraged myself with the notion that it would become easier and more satisfying once again to concentrate on Victoria’s correspondence, her dresses, our meals. I had been skimping my duties, but only because there were so many new things to think about.
But for now, I told myself firmly, I had the excuse that the princes were still here, demanding our attention. For once, I would live from day to day and enjoy each one of them.