Page 116 of The Heir
Chapter 54
It was indeed a lengthy recovery. But every day Victoria found herself able to stay awake a little bit longer. Her headaches were absent more often than they were present, and sitting in the sunlight was no longer a torment.
Slowly, she was able to rise from the couch. At first, it took both Lehzen and Jane to support her as she tried to cross the room. Soon, however, it was just Jane, with Lehzen following behind and Dash scouting officiously ahead.
Of course, she was inspected. The Kensington board all came and stood about her couch and looked down at her, trying not to frown. Victoria felt a terrible urge to let her eyes roll up in her head and fall backward, just to see what all these solemn men would do.
She told Jane about that later. Jane said this was surely a sign of her returning health. Victoria found she tended to agree.
They saw very little of Sir John. He was constantly at Parliament or at St. James’s, delivering his reports and soothing tattered nerves.
Mama, of course, stationed herself at Victoria’s side and would not be shifted. When she was not giving orders, she was complaining or despairing. At last, it reached such a stage that Dr. Clarke suggested—very solicitously—that the duchess’s extremity of feeling could lead to a case of nervous exhaustion.
“I must insist, ma’am, that you lie down in your bed, quite still and in perfect solitude, for one hour every day. It is for your daughter’s sake,” he said solemnly. “You must remain strong for her. Lady Flora, will you please take her grace to her room?”
As he packed his bag and left, Victoria saw him wink.
The door was shut behind him and Mother.
“Quick, Lehzen,” Victoria croaked. Her throat still had not fully recovered. “Take me into the rose room. I want to talk to Jane.”
Jane looked to Lehzen, who nodded her agreement. There followed the endless fuss of moving Victoria to the new couch, of covering her properly, of touching her forehead and hands to make sure that the fever had not returned.
Victoria tried to bear it patiently, but she felt her patience straining. At last, Lehzen retired to her chair by the hearth, where she could simultaneously keep an eye on Victoria and Jane and the door.
“There’s word from the palace,” Victoria told Jane as she made room for Jane to sit next to her. “The board delivered a letter from Uncle King.”
“Are you being moved soon?”
It took Victoria a minute to be sure her voice would not shake. “It seems that due to my recent severe illness, it has been decided that establishing any independent household should be postponed at least until I am stronger.”
This was the real result of Sir John’s long days closeted with the board and the lords of Parliament. She knew it. So, clearly, did Jane.
Jane licked her lips. She looked out the window. “Will you tell them?” she asked. “What he did to you?”
“Who would believe me? No one else saw it.”
“But Lehzen—”
“Did not actually see it,” said Victoria. “She was kept out of the rooms most of the time.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. Oh,” she agreed heavily.
“I’m sorry,” said Jane.
Victoria reached up. She wiped her hand across the fogged window so she could see the autumn garden that much better. “Don’t be,” she said. “It won’t be forever.”
Jane bowed her head.
Victoria tapped her on the back of her hand. “None of that, Jane Conroy. You promised that when I was better, you would tell me about your conversation with Mr. Rea. Now I am better, so you can begin.” She folded her hands with exaggerated patience.
She expected Jane might smile, but she did not. She looked at the door, and she twisted her hands together.
“It seems Dr. Maton was not making enough money by blackmailing only one or two of his patients,” Jane said. “Mr. Rea said that his memoir was going to be filled with all the secrets he knew, or at least that’s what Dr. Maton was telling people.”
Victoria listened with growing horror as Jane described how Dr. Maton had concocted a scheme to extort money from his wealthy, and royal, patients by telling them he would keep their follies, their crimes and sins, and—most importantly—their names out of his memoir.
