Page 52 of The Heir
“I would say so.” Lehzen took a swallow of tea. The lemon had sat too long. The liquid was thoroughly bitter now.
“I understand there is to be another tour beginning shortly,” ventured Martha.
“Yes. Of the northern counties.”
“His Majesty objects to these productions.”
To the casual observer, it might seem strange that the king could not simply forbid the princess to be taken traveling. But the situation was far from simple. Parliament had declared the Duchess of Kent to be Princess Victoria’s legal guardian. Therefore, she was the one in charge of the child’s movements. If the duchess declared the princess would travel, then she traveled. If the members of the aristocracy wished to open their homes to receive the princess, and if towns wished to mark the occasion of her visit with speeches and celebration, that, too, was perfectly natural. And if the king tried to forbid it, people would wonder why. They might even wonder if there was something wrong with the princess or her mother.
Or the king.
“Her Highness does not undertake these tours willingly. She finds them exhausting and a great strain upon her nerves.” Lehzen paused. “Perhaps if it were put to His Majesty that the business of moving to a new establishment must necessarily supersede the tour . . .”
Their eyes met for a long moment.
“Hmm. Yes. That is a thought. I shall bring it up to Her Majesty.”
“Most urgently,” said Lehzen.
Martha nodded. “Most urgently, you may be sure.”
“Because, Mrs. Wilson, I believe Sir John may have multiple reasons to want the situation to remain exactly as it is. And I believe if he gets word that the princess is to be removed from his influence, he may well grow desperate,” she said. “I cannot say what may happen after that.”
Chapter 23
When Jane entered the royal apartments, carrying her basket with the bottle of cordial, she saw Lehzen sitting beside the open windows. A welcome breeze stirred the draperies. A table with a tea tray had been placed in front of her, along with a second chair.
“Miss Conroy.” Lehzen folded the letter she had been reading. “I see you have completed Her Highness’s errand.”
“I, um, yes.” Jane fumbled with the basket. “This is the cordial she asked for.” She held it out. Lehzen took it with thanks.
“Her Highness and her grace are still on their visit to the Matons. But I have some fresh tea here, as you may see.” She smiled. “Will you take a cup?”
Jane wanted to refuse. She did not like Lehzen’s smile or the light in her eyes. But what excuse could she possibly give? And besides, she was thirsty.
So, Jane sat down and accepted the cup. Lehzen pushed the milk and the sugar bowl toward her. She also glanced at the door, which was open, so that they might be plainly seen and, incidentally, see anyone who came in.
Jane added milk and a sugar lump to her cup.
“Things have been strange the past day or so, would you say?” Lehzen remarked.
Jane added a second lump to her cup. And a third. Mother would have sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. Lehzen, however, seemed to have things on her mind beyond Jane’s overindulgence.
“I think we may even call them unsettled,” Lehzen went on, her tone somehow both bland and pointed. “And yet it all seems to have created a new sympathy between you and Her Highness.”
Jane kept her attention on her teacup. Silence was the habit of a lifetime. She had waited out her father hundreds of times when he was in a talking mood. She could wait out Lehzen.
“What was behind this business with your errand this morning?”
That surprised Jane. She jerked her head up and sloshed her tea. “She didn’t tell you?”
Lehzen shook her head.
I thought she told you everything.
Jane shifted. She looked out the window; she looked into her tea but found no answers. Father hated Lehzen. He would go on at length about her duplicity, her sneaking ways, her gossip, her bribery of the servants.
As near as Jane could tell, Father’s real objection to the woman was that the princess trusted Lehzen and did not trust him
