Prisoners in the Palace (23 page)

The dreariness of April gave way to sunny May. Victoria’s eighteenth birthday drew near. The King’s health worsened, but not quickly enough for the Duchess and Sir John. Now they were plotting to have Victoria name Sir John the keeper of the privy purse.

“As if Victoria would have that man in her household once she’s Queen,” said the Baroness while Liza brushed her hair. The phrase “Once She Is Queen” was repeated several times a day.

“Why does he want to keep the privy purse?” Liza asked. “It doesn’t sound very important.”

The Baroness snorted, a small shower of caraway seeds spraying Liza’s image in the mirror. “The Queen’s privy purse is four hundred thousand pounds.”

“Per annum?” Liza had never imagined so much money in her life.

“She will have to run her palaces, pay her servants, take care of all the hangers-on—she’ll spend it, don’t worry.”

Liza pulled the steel comb through the Baroness’s long gray hair. “And if Sir John gets the privy purse?”

“He’ll loot the treasury and rob Victoria blind.”

“Where is everyone?” Liza asked Nell. It was late on a Thursday afternoon, but Nell was in her second best dress and tying on a bonnet.

“Sir John gave everyone a ‘oliday,” Nell said.

Liza was immediately wary. “Everyone?”

“Almost. A few scullery maids ‘ave to stay, but even Mrs. Strode is visiting ‘er sister in town. Simon is still ‘ere.” Nell sighed. “I’d fancy ‘im, but footmen are too grand for parlor maids.”

“Has Sir John ever given everyone a day off before?”

“No—and I’m ‘urrying out in case ‘e changes ‘is mind.” Nell took a second look at Liza in her working dress. “Don’t you ‘ave the day off too?”

“No one has told me so.”

“Perhaps the Princess needs you in Northumberland?” Nell asked.

“Northumberland?”

Nell looked puzzled. “Isn’t she going with ‘er mother?”

“When?” Liza hadn’t heard about any excursions.

“Today.”

“Enjoy your day out, Nell,” Liza said as she hurried away to the Princess’s schoolroom. Events were coming to a head; she must warn Victoria.

The Baroness hovered outside the closed door. At Liza’s approach, she put her finger to her lips. Liza whispered her intelligence into Lehzen’s ear.

“The servants dismissed and the Duchess going too? I don’t like it,” said Lehzen. “It’s his doing, have no doubt.”

“I know, but why?” Liza asked.

“Hush.”

The Baroness pressed her ear to the door. Without hesitation, Liza did the same. Victoria and the Duchess were arguing loudly.

“Mama!” Victoria cried. “Why isn’t Signore Lablache coming?”

“We have decided—” It was impossible to mistake the Duchess’s strident tone.

“You mean Sir John has decreed!”

“You’re so emotional lately. Some discipline will be good for you, especially now the King is so ill.”

“Any more discipline and I might as well be in jail!”

Liza and the Baroness exchanged knowing glances.

“Jail, indeed. Victoria, don’t be so melodramatic.”

The strain of keeping her temper made Victoria’s voice quaver. “I’m not permitted to leave the Palace. We have no visitors, not even family. I have no friends. My ‘amusements’ are the only thing that make life worth living. And you have stripped them from me one by one.”

“Nonsense, Victoria,” said the Duchess. “We’re protecting you. Of course, if you listened to reason, you could have your amusements back again.”

“You mean, if I do what Sir John demands, I’ll get my music lessons back?”

“Is it so much to ask? After all, you wouldn’t extend the regency, despite the obvious advantages to you. And you ungratefully refused
to appoint Sir John as your private secretary—something he had counted on particularly. The least you can do is name him keeper of the privy purse.”

“The keeper of the privy purse spends the Queen’s money. And it is so much money! I can’t give the office to someone I don’t trust.” Victoria’s voice changed, became softer, but bitter too. “He’s just an employee, Mama. I’m your daughter. Why won’t you take my side?”

“Sir John has been my dearest friend for the past eighteen years. Ever since your father died, he is the only man I can depend on. You’re a selfish child not to reward him.”

“He’s horrid to me! And my own mother does nothing to stop it!”

Liza had heard a dozen versions of this argument in the past week alone. So far, Victoria had refused to give Sir John what he wanted, but it was taking a toll on her health. She wasn’t sleeping and she ate too many sweets. Her normally clear skin was spotted with blemishes.

Liza sighed. If only the Duchess would listen to her daughter, truly listen. Victoria only wanted to be loved. If the Duchess became her champion, Victoria would be generosity itself. Liza indulged in a memory of her own mother, perched in her favorite armchair, her blue eyes fixed on Liza’s face, concentrating on what mattered to her daughter.

The Duchess said, “I’ll be staying with the Duchess of Northumberland in town for a few days.”

“Why can’t I come too?”

“You shall stay here and think about your lack of gratitude.” Her loud footsteps approached the door. Liza backed away, dragging the Baroness with her. The Duchess stopped in the open doorway and said meaningfully, “I’ll come home when you have seen reason.”

The Duchess started when she saw Liza and the Baroness.

“Lehzen,” the Duchess said, peering at the Baroness. “Pack your things. You will accompany me to town.” Without waiting for a reply, her heels click-clacked down the hallway. The long feathers on her hat bobbed as she walked away.

The Baroness clasped her hands and pressed them against her mouth. “Mein Gott. She won’t let us return until the Princess agrees.”

“What can we do?” Liza asked.

“I have no choice but to go with Her Grace,” Lehzen whispered fiercely. “Sir John is growing desperate—it is up to you to protect Victoria. Don’t leave her side!”

“What if he…threatens me?” asked Liza.

“Better you should suffer than Victoria,” the Baroness said, deadly earnest. She squeezed Liza’s hands tight, then followed the Duchess.

Liza slipped into the room. The afternoon sun shone through the windows, but Victoria had sunk into a chair in the darkest corner of the room. With her pale complexion and the dark smudges of fatigue around her eyes, she looked like a wraith.

Without looking at Liza, Victoria said, “She boasts of sacrificing everything for me. But she won’t protect me against him.”

“Sir John is a subtle enemy,” Liza answered. “He has poisoned the Duchess’s mind for so long, she doesn’t see what he’s doing. Just hold on a little bit longer.”

“It can’t be long, I know. If only Uncle King would finish dying!” Victoria inhaled sharply. “Listen to me! They’ve turned me into a monster.”

“Not at all, Victoria. You can’t help the circumstances. The moment King William dies, their power over you is gone forever.”

“But what if the King doesn’t die for months? I’m so tired!” Victoria’s eyes welled up with tears. “Perhaps I should just give in.
Appoint him and be done with it.” She slumped even lower in her chair.

Liza knelt at the Princess’s feet. “Victoria, don’t let them beat you.” She held the Princess’s hands tightly between her own.

“There is so much money—what does it matter if he takes some?”

Liza considered her words carefully. She had her own score to settle with Sir John, but she also knew how important this moment would be to Victoria in the future. “If you give in now, when you are so close to winning, that failure will be with you all your life.”

“Now who is being melodramatic?” Victoria emphasized the syllables of the last word just as her mother did. “Why should I give up Signore Lablache?”

“Will you trade your honor for a singing lesson?”

Victoria pulled her hands away and gave Liza a sour look. “You make me sound so frivolous.”

The sound of carriage wheels echoed up to them from the courtyard below. Both girls went to the window and watched as the Duchess was handed into the carriage. The Baroness stepped into the carriage slowly, and once settled, she twisted her body to look up at the sitting room windows.

Victoria lifted a hand in a forlorn gesture of farewell. The girls watched the carriage drive away, a small cloud of dust blowing behind the wheels. Victoria stood there long after the carriage had disappeared over the hill into the park.

“I told the Queen everything,” said Victoria.

Liza glanced sharply at the Princess. “How?”

“I was very cunning. I hid the letter amongst some of my mother’s.” Victoria sighed. “I can’t imagine why no one has come to help me.”

Liza had often seen Sir John glance at each letter before handing them to Simon to post. A letter in Victoria’s handwriting, addressed
to a powerful relative, would have alerted a man far less calculating than Sir John. Liza would wager her precious hoard of sovereigns that the letter had been destroyed.

Why didn’t Victoria ask me to post the letter for her?

“What’s going to happen now?” asked Victoria in a low voice.

“Sir John will come to persuade you. That’s why your mother left.” For Victoria’s sake, Liza wished she could think better of the Duchess. “He’s dismissed the servants too. We’re alone.”

Just as Liza was beginning to panic at the forces aligned against them, Victoria suddenly took heart.

“I am a Hanover, descended from kings!” She began pacing, her strides growing stronger and more resolute with each step. “I won’t be afraid of him any longer.”

“Victoria, he’s out of time and he’s desperate,” warned Liza.

“You are so defeatist, Liza.”

“Just in case, Victoria,” Liza said. “We should have a signal if you want me to get help.”

“You said everyone is gone.”

“The footman, Simon, is still here. And the porter is outside. I’ll find someone.”

“Very well, if I touch my brooch like this…“ Victoria put her fingers to a cameo brooch of her dead father. “Then get help. But not before.”

“Perhaps I should go now,” Liza suggested. “Just to be safe?”

“No, Liza. And that’s an order. The future Queen of Britain must prove herself.”

Two hours later, Victoria’s resolution was not so steady. She fidgeted and paced and talked to herself. “When will he come?” she cried. “I’d rather face Sir John than this interminable waiting!”

As though she had made a bargain with the devil, the door swung open and he appeared. There was a new tension about him, like a coiled spring.

This man might do anything.

“Your Highness,” said Sir John. “I hope I didn’t startle you?”

“Sir John,” said Victoria, inclining her head.

His eyes narrowed when he saw Liza. “Leave. The Princess does not require you.”

Victoria held up her hand. “Please don’t give orders to my maid.”

“I need to speak to you privately.” There was an edge to his charming brogue. “Send her away.”

“It wouldn’t be seemly for me to be alone with a gentleman, even one so devoted to my mother.” Victoria’s voice was laden with delicate innuendo.

Liza’s eyebrows rose.

“So I am,” he said. The muscles in his face tightened. “I am also devoted to you.”

“You’ve always said the heir must be above reproach,” Victoria said. “My maid stays.”

Liza deliberately stepped nearer to the Princess.

His lips curved in a half smile, Sir John gave in. “As you wish. We shall speak German to be private.”

Victoria glanced at Liza and then gave a slight nod to Sir John. He walked to the side table and poured himself a glass of brandy.

“You see how tedious your life can be, if I choose to make it so,” he said in German.

“Really?” said Victoria. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Sir John searched her face. “The little Princess is lost without her opera and her amusements!”

“While Uncle King is so ill, it’s appropriate I am in seclusion—I don’t want to seem heartless.”

Liza couldn’t help smiling at the Princess’s apt answer. Sir John scowled and Liza made her face blank.

“Soon you will be Queen,” he said. “You’ve refused a regent, so you will be burdened by thousands of decisions. Without a private secretary, you will be overwhelmed with paper. As keeper of your privy purse, I can relieve you of some of your onerous responsibilities.” The vein beside his left eye was throbbing.

“Sir John, I wouldn’t think of imposing on you.” Victoria’s chin tilted up, but her hands clenched and unclenched, like a cat unsheathing its claws. Liza moved so Victoria could see her.

“Before his death, your father promised me I would have the post.” Sir John’s voice grew silkier.

Liza held her breath and waited; Victoria was foolishly sentimental about her father.

“Eighteen years ago,” Victoria said thoughtfully. “I’m not certain my father would approve of your attentions to my mother since then.”

Well done, Victoria!

Sir John frowned slightly.

Victoria went on, “You are a charming man and my mother is still a handsome woman. The situation was inevitable, I suppose.”

Sir John looked at her with fresh eyes. He had neither credited Victoria with the will to fight him, nor that her mother’s conduct would be her choice of weapon. “You’re bluffing. You’d never expose your mother to scandal.”

Victoria sniffed. “I’ve been sorely tried.”

“You wouldn’t do it.” His voice was confident.

They stared at each other. Victoria looked away first.

“I thought not,” he said with satisfaction. “Appoint me to the post, and I shall forget you said it.”

Victoria considered for a moment, putting her finger alongside her nose. Then she smiled sweetly. “I’ll see you in hell first, Sir John.”

Liza watched Sir John’s hands. She didn’t think he would forget himself so far to strike Victoria.

But has Victoria ever been so brave before?

“In your situation,” he said, delicately accenting the final word, “you would do better not to offend me.”

“My situation?”

“I control Kensington Palace: what quarters you have, whether the cook takes a holiday, if you have any company. No one will question my orders.”

“My mother…”

“Has given me carte blanche.”

Victoria’s face blanched. “My uncles…“ she said faintly.

Sir John pressed his advantage. “Your Uncle the King is practically dead—he can’t protect you. And your correspondence with your other relatives has been intercepted.”

Victoria sank into a chair.

“Now you see my plan.” Sir John went on. “This past year, I’ve cut you off from your social and family connections. It will be weeks before anyone realizes you are incommunicado.” He refilled his glass.

Liza stared at the cameo on Victoria’s dress, her anxiety growing. Why didn’t Victoria signal for help? Like a bird mesmerized by a snake, Victoria sat paralyzed by Sir John’s scheming.

“There is no one to care what happens here…or to you,” continued Sir John. He downed the glass of liquor in one gulp.

“It’s not true!” Liza said loudly, hoping to pierce Victoria’s trance. “The Princess has powerful friends.” Only after the words flew out of her mouth, did Liza realize she had spoken in German.

Dismay flooded Victoria’s face. Liza inhaled sharply.

“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” Sir John started toward Liza, and she could see he was remembering all his indiscretions in her presence. “You’re a filthy spy!” he said. His fist swung out and smashed Liza’s face; his signet ring cutting her cheek. Her body reeled with the impact, and she fell against the mantle. Blood trickled down her cheek and dripped onto the coal scuttle.

“Liza!” cried Victoria.

Sir John stared down at Liza’s prone body. “I should have gotten rid of you long ago.”

“Stop hurting her,” ordered Victoria. She ran to the door and called, “Help! Help!”

Abandoning Liza, Sir John caught up to Victoria in a few strides. He grabbed her arm. “I’ve sent everyone away.” He pulled her back into the room and kicked the door shut.

Victoria stood stock still, staring at Sir John’s hand on her arm. Behind them, Liza staggered to her feet, her face throbbing. She didn’t take her eyes off Victoria.

“Princess, do what I want and this ends,” said Sir John. His fingers tightened around the flesh above Victoria’s elbow.

“No, I won’t do it,” said Victoria. Tears streamed down her face. To Liza’s relief, Victoria lifted her hand to touch her cameo. Liza edged her way along the wall, toward the door.

Sir John murmured persuasively, “Write the letter and everything returns to what it was.”

Victoria spoke to keep Sir John’s attention. “Once I am Queen, I’ll tell everyone what you have done.” She avoided looking in Liza’s direction.

“It will be my word, and your mother’s, against that of a hysterical young girl,” he sneered. “Don’t you read the newspapers? Everyone thinks you are an imbecile. If you start making wild accusations, Parliament just might insist your mother be named regent after all.”

Sir John’s entire attention focused on the Princess. Liza took her chance. She felt the doorknob behind her back. She turned it, and slipped out of the room. She ran downstairs to the servant’s hall.
Simon sat on a bench, his shirt loosened at the collar. He was drinking a large glass of ale.

“Simon!” she called. “Come, we need you.”

He sprang up, wiping the foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Liza, what’s the matter? What happened to your face?”

Liza touched the wetness on her cheek. “Never mind. The Princess is in danger.”

“Take me there,” he said simply.

Taking comfort in Simon’s powerful build, Liza hurried back to the schoolroom. The tableau had not changed: Sir John still gripped the Princess’s arm.

Sir John glanced up. “Good work, I was afraid the maid might cause trouble.”

Liza stared at Sir John, afraid to think of what his words meant. Slowly she turned and saw Simon standing in front of the closed door. Guarding it for Sir John.

“Simon?” Her voice faltered.

“Liza, I’ll have to ask you not to interfere with Sir John again.” Simon looked through her, as though she was a total stranger.

Everything fell into place. Now Liza understood how Sir John knew so quickly about Annie’s death. She shivered realizing she and the Princess were alone except for their enemies.

Sir John’s scornful voice broke the silence. “This is all very touching—but I have more important concerns. Victoria, there will be no cavalry coming to the rescue. Write the letter.”

“No, Victoria—don’t write anything,” cried Liza. “He can’t force you!”

“Can’t you control the wench?” Sir John asked Simon irritably. Simon grabbed hold of Liza and placed his beefy hand over
her mouth. Liza thrashed under his grip, but he was like a block of stone.

Victoria seemed to have found her courage with Liza’s words. “I’ll be Queen any day now. To hurt me would be high treason. You don’t dare.”

“You have no idea what I will dare, Princess,” said Sir John. “Simon!”

Simon stirred uneasily. “I won’t hurt the Princess,” he said.

“We don’t have to,” said Sir John with a wicked smile. “The Princess is vulnerable in a way I hadn’t considered.” He dragged Victoria to the desk in the corner. “Oh foolish Little Woman. Always looking for someone to love. Even a maid. I never dreamed it would be so useful.”

Liza saw his meaning first and her heart sank. She clawed at Simon’s hand with all her might, but he was too strong.

“You don’t mean…“ Victoria said, her eyes darting toward Liza. Sir John pushed her down in the chair.

“You aren’t as stupid as I told everyone you were. I can’t hurt you, but who cares about your maid? Girls like her disappear every day. Look at the last one.”

Liza knew Sir John meant every word. Her life was worth nothing to him. But Victoria could purchase it back, at a steep price. Liza stopped struggling—she didn’t want to be the cause of Victoria’s surrender.

Slowly, Victoria asked, “What do you want?”

“Six months as the keeper of the privy purse.”

“Can you steal enough in half a year?” Victoria asked with bitterness in her voice.

“I’m not greedy.”

“And after six months?”

“I shall leave. We need never see each other again.”

Sir John began rummaging in the desk, but could find no paper. “Damnation!” he exclaimed. “What kind of schoolroom doesn’t have paper?” He hauled Victoria out of her chair and headed to the Duchess’s sitting room next door. Simon followed, dragging Liza along.

What can I do to help her? And myself?

Sir John pushed Victoria into the Duchess’s desk chair. He dipped the quill into the inkwell and pressed it into Victoria’s limp hand.

“It must be entirely in your handwriting,” he said.

The Princess looked over at Liza. Under Simon’s hand, Liza’s eyes entreated Victoria not to do it. Victoria winked at Liza, and poised her hand over the page, ready to write.

Sir John dictated, “‘I, the Royal Highness Victoria Kent, hereby appoint Sir John Conroy to be the keeper of my privy purse on the occasion of my accession to the Crown. I swear he shall occupy this post for six months. I make this oath in grateful appreciation of ‘—”

Victoria made a gagging noise in her throat.

Sir John scowled. “Keep writing, girl.”

“I can’t write that.”

Sir John placed his hand on Victoria’s shoulder. Liza could see the marks where his fingers pressed against the bone. Victoria winced and began to write again.

“‘In grateful appreciation of his years of dedicated service and selfless devotion to my person.’ Now sign it.”

The Princess penned her neat signature to the letter. Liza watched, puzzled. What did Victoria think she was doing?

Brushing her aside, Sir John blotted the letter and held it up to the light from the window. Like a figure from a pantomime, his satisfaction turned to rage.

“I hereby do not appoint Sir John—did you really think I wouldn’t read it through?”

Victoria slumped in her chair, crushed at the failure of her stratagem.

Liza’s mind was working frantically.

I’ve only got one advantage. How can I use it?

Sir John crumpled the false letter in his hand. “Take the girl away,” ordered Sir John. “My business with the Princess is better done without witnesses.”

“Where?” Simon asked.

“There’s a box room on the far side of the cupola room. No one will hear anything there.” He reached in his pocket and threw a set of keys to Simon, who caught it with his left hand.

Liza took her chance and wrenched her mouth away from Simon’s other hand. “Boy!” she cried. “Simon’s a Tartar. He’s earwig with the bark. If you can, undub the jigger to the crib and save my bacon. But if you can’t, blow the gab to Will.”

“What is the wench blathering about?” Sir John said. “I must have hit her harder than I thought.”

“Who are you talking to?” Simon asked, tightening his hold on Liza’s arms.

“Get her out of here!” Sir John commanded.

“What are you going to do to her?” cried Victoria.

“I won’t hurt her—if you do as I ask. No more tricks.”

With Victoria’s defeated eyes following her, Simon hauled Liza out of the room. She hoped Inside Boy had received her message.