Page 51 of The Heir
“Good morning, Louise. Good morning, Frau Schumacher.” Martha greeted them in English and pressed their hostess’s hands. “Tell me, how does your son?”
“Very well, thank you.” Frau Schumacher’s English was fluent but accented, like Lehzen’s own. “He writes the university is miserably hard, but he enjoys the work. He says he is daily grateful for all that Herr Lehzen put him through in preparing him.”
“I shall write to my father and tell him,” said Lehzen. “He will be glad to hear it.”
“But now here is the tea,” said Frau Schumacher as the footman entered with the tray. “You must both sit and have a good visit. I beg you will excuse me, but I have a thousand letters to write.”
It was a polite fiction, but a familiar one. There had been a number of times over the years when Lehzen and Martha needed a place to talk where they would not be seen or overheard. Frau Schumacher had kindly volunteered her house for their meetings.
Their hostess and coconspirator bustled away, leaving Lehzen and Martha facing each other.
“Shall I pour?” asked Lehzen in French. Martha had no German, but her French was excellent. Frau Schumacher’s staff was trustworthy and discreet, but experience had left them both wary. Conducting their meetings in French reduced the chances their conversation might be discussed out of hand. The precautions might have seemed excessive to some, but the war of influence between St. James’s Palace and Kensington was genuine, and if they were found to be in communication, the consequences could be severe.
Martha took her chair, her teacup, and a shortbread biscuit.
Lehzen fixed her own cup and drank. It was a relief to be able to make a really strong cup of tea. The duchess insisted on a brew that was little better than tepid water.
“What is the news from St. James’s?” Lehzen asked.
“Do you mean to ask how the king is doing?” inquired Martha.
Lehzen nodded. “Word has gone abroad that he is ill.”
“He is, and he is in bed. But the doctors are no more than usually concerned. You know I would have written if it were otherwise.”
“You must forgive me. We are very unsettled in our household at the moment.”
“So I am hearing. We have heard the princess had a bad time while out riding.”
“Yes. The princess, or rather her horse, did stumble over a dead man on the green. It seems it was Dr. Maton, who is, or was, attached to the medical household.”
“It is a shocking thing. How has the princess responded?”
By believing some skulduggery is afoot. By believing Sir John Conroy is behind it. For which he has only himself to blame.“She is a young woman who does not have enough to occupy her natural energies or intellect, and she is beginning to chafe at the system of living imposed upon her.”
“To hear you tell it, she has chafed against that harness since she was a little girl.”
“That is my point,” Lehzen told her. “She is not a little girl anymore. She has grown and changed, but the system has not.”And it will not, because its aims have not been achieved.“Tell me, Martha, when may we expect a decision soon regarding her new household?”
“I cannot say.” Martha set her cup down and leaned forward. “What is worrying you, Louise?”
I must go carefully here.
Lehzen and Martha were both creatures of the court. There was no such thing as complete confidence between such persons. But Martha was the one sure source of information Lehzen had from St. James’s and Queen Adelaide. She could not risk losing her trust.
“The princess is a strong-willed, intelligent girl who is ready to become a woman. She longs for variety, and to test her mettle. She is sick of being told that any thought of which her mother and her mother’s companion do not approve is a sign of madness, or that her smallest gesture of independence is not only ungrateful but hopelessly reckless.”
“Oh, la la,” Martha breathed.
Lehzen nodded. “Any girl raised in such a state might well become angry. She may begin to give in to her less healthy impulses simply because she is bored or because mischief is a way to lash out at those she sees as her jailers.”
Martha did not reply immediately. Lehzen refilled her cup.How very English I have become, she thought.Discussing the future of the kingdom over a cup of tea.
Martha reclaimed her cup and sipped. “I can see where that girl’s true friends may well become concerned for her health.”
“They might, perhaps, suggest that a . . . a separation would be beneficial. A change of . . . What is the English phrase . . . ?”
“Scene and society?” Martha nodded. “And it might be as well if the girl’s friends conveyed this to her relatives?”
