Page 58 of The Heir
Understanding drifted past Jane. She knew she was being told something true, and it was important. But there was some piece missing—some final meaning in her mother’s words and lazy, arch looks that she could not entirely grasp.
Without that piece, she could not hold on to the rest.
Chapter 26
Victoria’s day dragged on. Mama’s temper did not improve. She found fault with Victoria, of course, but also with each of the ladies in turn—berating them all for being slow, for not attending, for general sloth. But Victoria was not permitted to so much as go to the other side of the room. She must sit beside Mama’s chair, so that Mama could watch over her shoulder as she wrote in her journal and read her letters and made her comments on each one.
Dinner was a relief, because at least it gave Mama something different to complain about. Afterward, she was content to let Victoria practice her piano while she sat with her letters. This at least allowed Victoria some occupation for her restless thoughts and feelings.
But Victoria could not help noticing that Sir John did not make his customary appearance.
Is that what’s got you in such a stew, Mama?
So when the door opened, the entire room jumped. But it was not Sir John.
It was Mrs. Bingham, Aunt Sophia’s favorite waiting woman. She handed Lady Flora a paper note.
“A note for Her Highness from Princess Sophia, ma’am,” Lady Flora announced.
Mama held out her hand. Victoria would have liked to object, but it was useless. Of course Mama must read it first.
Mama scanned the lines and muttered something.
“What does she say?”
For a moment, Victoria thought Mama would refuse to tell her. “She asks you to come up and have a glass of that ridiculous cordial with her before bed.”
“May I? She has been so troubled of late. Perhaps I can help soothe her mind.”
Mama sighed. Victoria watched her look for reasons to refuse.
“A half hour,” she said finally. “No more. Lady Flora will go with you.”
Victoria swallowed her protest. What protest could she reasonably make? That she had things to say to her aunt that she did not want Lady Flora to hear?
“Thank you, Mama.” Victoria kissed her cheek and let Mama pat her cheek in return.
“One half hour. You must not be up too late. I want you at your best tomorrow.”
* * *
Victoria knew that Lady Flora did not like the dark. She did not so much walk through the long line of empty rooms as march, as if the deliberate belligerence of her movements would keep any waiting goblins from catching up with her.
She didn’t like Aunt Sophia, either. She regarded her as a pathetic old woman who should have been put out to pasture years ago. Somehow, she managed to ignore the fact that as far as the rest of the court was concerned, being housed in Kensington Palace was being put out to pasture.
But then Victoria could understand how a lady with such a high opinion of herself as Lady Flora might not want to consider that fact too closely.
They had almost reached Aunt Sophia’s private apartments. Lady Flora opened the door to the “queen’s writing room.” But the room was already occupied. Uncle Sussex stood at the mantel, a lamp burning beside him. He had the mantel clock turned around and its back open.
“Ah! Vickelchen and Lady Flora.” He smiled but barely spared them a glance. “Don’t you mind me. Some fool has forgotten to wind this one. I’m just setting it to rights.” He fussed with something in the mechanism, and the clock chimed gently. “There we are!” He closed the back carefully and turned to them. “Now.” He pulled out an enormous handkerchief to wipe his hands. “What brings you to these distant domains?” He spread his hands, indicating the tiny, dark room.
“A royal invitation from the Princess Sophia herself,” declared Victoria.
“Truly? Well, well, such an honor. If you will step into my antechamber, I shall go and see if Her Very Royal Highness is receiving.” Uncle Sussex held out his arm.
Victoria giggled at the little game. Uncle Sussex beamed. Lady Flora’s smile said she was tolerating this show, because really, what else could she do?
This side of the room had two doors; Uncle Sussex pushed open the one at his right hand, which led to what had once been a private study. It was an odd choice, but he was smiling so genially, Victoria let herself go along with the game.
