Page 98 of The Heir
“Lady Flora, Jane is ice cold! We need hot tea and towels and something to eat.”
“I’ll have to ask—”
“Then do!” snapped Victoria. “At once!”
Lady Flora turned up her nose, but she did leave.
“Quick, Jane.” Victoria took both Jane’s hands between hers, then chafed them together to try to bring some warmth back. “What happened to you?”
Jane didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled away and turned to Wordsworth’s poems. She yanked a note out of the book and shoved it into Victoria’s hands. Victoria, with a quick glance at the door, unfolded the paper.
It was from Lehzen. Victoria read:
Palace sent letter to duchess advising imminent establishment of Her Royal Highness to Buckingham House. Bill being drawn up in Parliament. Sir John wrote Lord Liverpool to ask to bring you to Tunbridge Wells early.
Victoria stared at Jane. Jane nodded.
Victoria jumped to her feet.
“No, don’t—” croaked Jane.
But Victoria had already grabbed up her skirts and bolted back to the sitting room. Mama was in the boudoir, lifting gloves out of a cedar box.
“Mama!” cried Victoria. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“That the king has offered me my own household! That he has sent his intention to Parliament!”
Mama laid one pair of white gloves on the dressing table and picked up another out of the box. “Because it isn’t important.”
“Not important . . . !” Victoria choked.
“Yes. Since it is impossible that you would accept, it is entirely unimportant.”
“Why wouldn’t I accept? I’msixteen!”
Mama laid the second pair of gloves down and picked up a third. “Their Majesties are desperate to gain control over you before you turn eighteen, and are resorting to blatant bribery to do it. Sir John is penning an appropriate reply.”
“No, Mama. I will not agree to anything Sir John writes. Where is the letter from the palace? Let me see it.”
“There is no need,” said Sir John from behind his desk. “Your reply is almost ready.”
He was writing. Victoria ran to the desk. He did not look up at her, did not acknowledge her in any way. But she could read what was there.
. . . cannot possibly accept Your Majesty’s proposal as to the change in my situation, coming as it does with the insistence that I be parted not only from the invaluable Sir John Conroy . . .
Victoria choked.
Rather, aware as I am of my youth, my feminine delicacy, and my inexperience, I fully intend to make it known to Your Majesty and the lords of Parliament that I desire her grace, the Duchess of Kent, should remain my legal guardian until I reach the age of twenty-one. Further, I use this letter to officially appoint Sir John Conroy as my private secretary and desire he should continue in that position when . . .
Anger blurred Victoria’s vision. She couldn’t read any more.
“You will sign this,” said Sir John. “And it will be delivered to St. James’s.”
“I will not sign such a ridiculous document.” Victoria turned her back. Mama stood right behind her.
“Mama, think!” cried Victoria. “This is our chance to get out of Kensington Palace. You’ve wanted that for years!”
