One evening, as spring moved into early summer, the dining table was set and dressed with flowers, and the family were gathered in the drawing room. The duchess tapped me on the shoulder with her fan. ‘Miss V,’ she said in what, for her, was a low voice. ‘We are expecting the Princess Sophia tonight, and dinner is ready. Please go and ask Adams to find out where she is.’
‘Of course.’
I gave my curtsey and discreetly wove my way between my father, Prince Ernest and Victoria, who were vigorously discussing horses, and slipped out through the big double doors. I was wearing a new silk dress in very pale primrose yellow, and I thought it quite the prettiest thing I had ever owned. It had been ordered in a hurry last week and delivered just this morning. I had decided that I really needed several more outfits than my rather limited wardrobe contained – after all, Victoria had been telling me for years that my clothes were dull. At last, it seemed, I could dimly perceive what she had been saying.
Out on the landing, I almost bumped into Prince Albert. ‘Good evening!’ he said, snatching my hand in his strong warm grip and carrying it up to his lips. ‘I haven’t seen that dress before, have I?’
I bowed my head, chagrined that my little manoeuvre had been detected. I didn’t want him to think I had dressed up for him. And yet I was glad he had noticed.
‘I am just going to call upon the Princess Sophia across the courtyard,’ I explained. ‘She is expected to dinner but has not yet arrived. I could send Adams, but I think she would prefer it if I went myself.’
‘The lady with the cat?’ said Albert. ‘She is a friend of mine. Permit me to accompany you.’
I wondered how on earth he had made the acquaintance of the old and rather batty princess. Most young men, I thought, would have run miles rather than permit themselves to be enticed into her musty drawing room. In fact, the imagined thought of the horror on Prince Ferdinand’s face, if summoned to the princess’s abode, made me smile.
‘Of course,’ I said again, leading the way by running lightly down the stairs.
Out in the courtyard, darkness was falling. Now that it was May, the air was much warmer and more fragrant than on the inhospitable March night of the ball. But I detected something of the same atmosphere in the palace, of anticipation, of pleasure to come. The very lamps seemed to wink through the various windows in a friendly fashion, and the geraniums in the pots on the steps seemed to nod in the slight breeze. Or perhaps, as I came to think of it, the pleasure and anticipation lay not in the palace, but in myself, relishing the evening that lay ahead. An evening in the company of Albert.
I led him quickly across the cobbles to the front door of Princess Sophia’s apartment, and knocked. There was no reply, which did not surprise me. She was very deaf, and I believed that her still more elderly maid was even deafer.
I made as if to open the door, but Albert gripped my arm. I looked at him in some alarm. ‘Can you smell … smoke?’ he asked. Together, we craned to look in through the window of her drawing room.
Instantly my good humour fled and my palms tingled with a strange sensation.
The room was full of light, yes, but it was not the friendly light of hearth or lamp. Red, flickering flames were climbing the wall – I could see their very tongues attacking the wallpaper – and the furniture was only dimly to be seen through clouds of smoke.
Even as I looked, there was a crash. Albert had used his shoulder to burst his way through the door, retreating almost at once with his sleeve across his face.
‘I can see her!’ he said, between retches and coughs caused by the smoke. He stood by me, with his palms placed against the wall, and spat a horrible smoky mixture out of his lungs. ‘But I cannot hold my breath for long enough to reach her. It looks like she is lying down on the hearth rug, or where it used to be.’
I gasped and tried to think what to do. ‘I’ll fetch Adams!’
‘No, no, we must be quick.’
I squeezed my stupefied brain into action.
‘Take this!’
I snatched off the lace fichu that covered my shoulders. He reached out for it, but I gestured at him to wait. I dipped it into the dish of water left out for the princess’s cat.
‘Inspired!’ he said, clapping the fichu up against his mouth as a kind of mask. Then he turned to face the blaze.
‘Albert!’
For an instant he turned, but I could see that he was impatient to throw himself back into the flames. I felt guilty for having stopped him in doing his duty.
‘Be careful!’
He smiled. Even amid the heat and hurry and danger of the moment, my heart contracted because he had that smile for me. Then he disappeared into the gloom and the dreadful loud cracks and reports as timber was devoured by flame.
I peered through the window as best as I could from outside, but the smoke was so dense I could barely see a thing. The fire was now making a dull, deep roar, and I could hear crashes that might have been Albert banging into the furniture. I twisted my hands uselessly together. Should I fetch help? But if I left, would Albert burn alive with no one to know where he had gone?
I searched desperately around the courtyard for water, for aid, for anything. But there was nobody, nothing. At last, through the gateway, I saw the soldiers returning from guard duty. It must have been the hour of the end of the watch.
Just as I had done when the intruder came into Victoria’s bedroom, I screamed. It was a mixture of ‘Help!’ and ‘Oh!’ and ‘Fire!’ It was a high-pitched sliver of sound that cut through the evening air. One soldier paused and looked round, then they were all running over.
Panting, I waved to summon them to move more quickly. But even then, something knocked against my bare shoulder. Spinning round, I realised that it was the old lady’s foot. Albert had Sophia in his arms. His clothes, his hair, all were black. He was breathing hard, and I can tell he was trying not to retch once more. Carefully he laid the old lady down on the cobbles, and I sank down too and cradled her head on my lap. Behind us, the cries and calls of the soldiers told me that they were trying to prepare water supplies before making their way into the blazing building. ‘The engine!’ I heard, and ‘Buckets!’
I met Albert’s anxious eyes, which now looked very white in his smutty face. The Princess Sophia had not moved, nor apparently breathed. I placed the back of my hand very close to her lips, and held my own breath, and prayed.
Yes!
There was the faintest breath of air. In a moment or two, she was choking and coughing, and Albert was dripping water from the cat’s dish between her lips. She clutched my hand with a powerful grip. ‘My dear!’ she panted. ‘Your young man saved my life, you know. But have you seen my cat? Where is Tiddles?’
Albert was on his feet. ‘Tiddles!’ he said. ‘How could I forget Tiddles?’ He went running back inside, calling for the cat.
‘It is my own fault,’ she said weakly. ‘I was sitting too near the fire, and I perhaps took a little snooze, and when I woke the flames were at my apron. I ripped it off but it was too late. Oh! It was awful!’
‘But Your Royal Highness, where was your servant?’
Feebly, she waved her hand in the air in a gesture of denial. ‘Gone,’ she said. ‘No … money to pay, my dear,’ she said. ‘Your father has been so good to me. He has helped me. I get on quite well.’
Not so well now, I thought, looking down at her tired and filthy old face. She closed her eyes. I had the impression that she had retreated into her own world.
But then she surprised me by snapping open her eyes once more.
‘I owe so much to you, my dear,’ she said, ‘for looking after me in my hour of need. I am surrounded here in my home by good, gentle people. There is your kind young man there, who has found Tiddles, and your good, generous papa.’
Albert was kneeling beside us, the cat in his arms, and I could see my father and Adams coming out of the big door of Victoria’s apartment. ‘Come away, come away, ladies!’ my father was saying, taking charge. ‘The building is not safe, come away.’
I was glad to let him raise Princess Sophia to her feet and coax her into the duchess’s apartment. I was left sitting on the cobbles, but Albert’s dirty hand was extended towards me and his strong arm was lifting me up. Now, with the delayed shock, I felt weak, and I leaned upon him heavily as we went. My father and the princess had gone on ahead when Albert suddenly stopped. He lowered his mouth to my hair and stood still, clutching my shoulders. ‘Do you know what I thought in there?’ he whispered. ‘Do you know what kept me going through the smoke? It was the thought of acquitting myself well in your eyes.’
My heart lurched inside me like a wild thing, and all the dirt and sweat and shock melted away. I said nothing, saw nothing but the sight of his steady gaze, which I returned with all my heart.
‘Victoria,’ he said, ‘you make me the best version of myself.’
‘Sir!’ I whispered at length. ‘You must not speak so. It is unfitting. Remember your status.’
He laughed. ‘Silly billy!’ he said. ‘It’s too late for that. You know that I love you. And there’s no need to say anything. I know that you love me too.’ With that, he lowered his lips and planted a kiss on my sooty forehead.
He knew me well enough to know that this would distress me almost as much as it pleased me. So he swiftly walked me on, allowing me no time to protest, and I had to bend my head to hide the crimson tide of pleasure that was rising and spreading and warming me from head to foot.