Nell was listening at the door. “She’s coming!”
Victoria appeared in her youthful dressing gown, her hair loose over her shoulders. The servants sank into their deepest curtsies or bowed until their foreheads scraped the floor. It was the first curtsy Liza had done with her whole heart since she arrived at Kensington Palace.
20 June 1837 Excerpt from the Journal of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria
I went into my sitting room (only in my dressing gown) alone and saw them. Lord Conyngham then acquainted me that my poor Uncle, the King, was no more, and had expired at 12 minutes past two this morning and consequently that I am Queen.
Liza was more exhilarated than tired as she slipped out of the Palace into the crowds thronging the gardens. She looked back at Kensington Palace; the staid, old house seemed to quiver with new energy. The windows to the state apartments flung open and the tiny figure of Victoria appeared in the opening. Cheers erupted from the crowd; Liza thought her ears might explode.
One moment she was fighting the sea of people, the next she was alone. She saw Will’s tall, but not too tall, figure leaning against the chestnut tree. He bowed and she curtsied.
“You look lovely in your dark dress. Is this another of Victoria’s castoffs?”
“No, this one is mine.” Liza stroked her taffeta skirt. “Victoria has barely enough mourning for herself. The dressmakers are queuing. The Queen insists the court mourn for twelve weeks.” She made a face. “Ten more than I was allowed to wear my own blacks.”
“The royals have different rules,” he said. “You of all people should know that.” His eyes went to the hollows of her neck. “I like that locket. I don’t think I’ve seen you wear jewelry before.”
“I wasn’t permitted to as a maid. But that’s all changed now.”
She admired the cut of his dark coat. “You. In mourning, for King William?”
“I harried the man enough when he was alive, a show of respect is the least I could do.” He smiled ruefully. “Besides, my best girl works at the Palace.”
“Your best girl?” asked Liza archly. “There are others?”
“Well, my first choice has kept me waiting. Now we have a new Queen, I hope she’ll marry me.”
Liza looked off in the distance at Kensington Palace.
His smile faded. “That was our agreement, wasn’t it?”
There was a long silence.
“I just never thought past this morning,” Liza admitted, matching Will’s gaze.
“The day’s arrived. Will you marry me now?”
She took a deep breath. “Will, when my parents died, I was left alone to fend for myself.”
“And you did.”
“I know! I found a job, good friends, and a new life.”
“And me.” Will thumped his chest.
“And you.” She smiled. “But I wanted my old life back. I couldn’t see past everything I had lost.”
“And now?”
“I don’t want the life I led before. I want the life I’m going to build with you.”
“Ah, finally!” He tilted her chin and kissed her gently. “And you’ll let me help with your debts?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Liza assured him. “I’ve heard from Papa’s solicitor. You are looking at the sole owner of a large boatful of very expensive and fashionable scarves from Kashmir.”
“Ship,” he corrected.
“Boat, ship.” Liza shrugged. “What matters is I possess a moderate fortune. Not to mention a reward from a grateful Queen.”
“Victoria?”
“No, Adelaide!” She laughed at his surprise. “A thank-you for helping Victoria.”
“She wants you to keep quiet?” Will guessed.
Liza nodded.
“She’s a clever and generous woman. I’m sorry I wrote all those stories about her. Well, she’s out of it now. No scandal sheets will bother with her now that she’s the Dowager Queen.” He grabbed Liza’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Are you sure you aren’t too rich for me now?” He never took his eyes from hers.
“Just rich enough, Mr. Fulton. Now I can come to you without liabilities.” She sighed. “I feel terrible. I blamed my parents for leaving me destitute, but all the while, my inheritance floated to me on the Indian Ocean. I should have trusted them better.”
But without this year, I wouldn’t have met Will. And I wouldn’t have learned what I am capable of.
With the intuition she loved about him, Will let her thoughts take their course. After several moments, he handed her one of the handkerchiefs she had embroidered for him. Dabbing her eyes, she said, “Thank you.”
“It was my honor.”
She smacked her forehead with a gloved hand. “How could I forget? Speaking of honors—Victoria has offered me one.”
Will looked wary.
“She wants to make me her gentlewoman of the bedchamber.”
“I’ve never heard of such a position.”
“Victoria made it up,” Liza laughed. “I don’t have birth enough to be a true lady in waiting, but this way I can be a lady and still be close to her.”
“Liza,” Will said slowly. “A lady can’t marry a newspaper man.”
Watching him closely, Liza said, “She could marry a minor knight. How would you like to be William Fulton, Esquire?”
He rocked back on his heels. “A knighthood? For what?”
“You took her side when she had no one.”
“But I also took the other side!” he exclaimed.
“Victoria doesn’t see it like that,” Liza assured him. “I’ve told her all about you. Perhaps she just wants to make it easier for us to marry. All the Queens in England are paving the way for us.”
He shook his head. “I can’t take it.”
“Will—it’s rank! You won’t get another chance like this.”
“Liza, the kind of honor I want, no one can give.” His face set in a stubborn look Liza knew well.
“Not even me?” Liza asked, watching him closely.
“Not even you.”
Liza kissed him lightly. She had chaffed him long enough. “I knew you would refuse.”
He looked at her sharply.
“Your pride is one of the things I love about you,” Liza said. “I already told Victoria thank you, but no.”
“For both of us? You refused being lady of the chamber pot?”
“Gentlewoman of the bedchamber!”
“And my knighthood?” He growled, but his eyes were smiling. “You gave that up without even talking to me?”
“Will, you can’t be proud in both directions at once!” Liza laughed. “She offered Inside Boy a garnet brooch. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her he’s probably stolen much more valuable items from her mother’s jewelry box. He should just be grateful she didn’t shop him to the peelers.”
Will burst out laughing. “Living at Kensington Palace has had a terrible effect on you—you’re pattering flash, stealing horses, playing bailiff.” He stopped laughing. “You’ve come so far this year. Are you sure you still want to marry me? You are giving up so much.”
“Will, I want to marry you more than anything,” Liza said firmly. “If I’ve learned anything this past year, it’s riches and rank don’t make you happy.”
“What about Victoria?” he asked. “Will she be happy now she has everything?”
Liza shrugged. “She’s never had a chance to make her own choices before. It may go to her head.”
“But you’re well out of it?”
Liza nodded. “She doesn’t need me anymore.”
“Are you certain?”
“Will, if you keep asking me that, I may have to reconsider! You are my choice.” She brushed a lock of sandy hair off his forehead. “I haven’t said that for the longest time. My choice.”
Will held out his hand. Liza could see a faint imprint of ink stains. Without hesitation, she took his hand in her own.
“What do we do now, dear Liza?” he asked.
“I’ve the rest of the day to myself. Will you take me to Claridge’s Hotel? I’ve an account to settle.”
She glanced back at Kensington Palace. The setting sun bathed the red brick house in golden light.
“Don’t look back,” said Will.
“Why not? Mama was right; it was a year like no other.”
At the end of Prisoners in the Palace, in 1837, the eighteen-year-old Victoria ascended the throne. She reigned for sixty-four years, longer than any other British monarch. While she was Queen, England became an empire of over four million square miles and one hundred twenty-four million people. She was dearly loved by the public and is credited with restoring the faith of the British people in the monarchy itself.
You may be dismayed to learn Victoria married Prince Albert, although by all reports his disposition and looks had improved by the time they met again (three years after their first encounter). It was a successful marriage and they had nine children. Albert became her closest adviser. Through his efforts, Victoria and her mother were eventually reconciled. When Albert died of overwork at the age of forty-two, Victoria was inconsolable. She built an enormous (some people think it’s quite tacky) memorial to his memory not far from Kensington Palace. She retreated from public life as much as possible and wore mourning until her death in 1901. The image of the tiny dark Victoria, dressed in mourning, is the way most of us know her. I wanted to write about the girl with fair hair (before she contracted typhoid) who loved to dance and reveled in staying up late.
Although Victoria died over a century ago, I hear her voice quite clearly in my head because I’ve read her diaries. It is great fun trying to find the teenager hiding in the words “Mama would find proper.” She made her entries in pencil, which were only to be inked over when her mother approved them. The Baroness Lehzen looms large in the diaries as “dear, dear Lehzen,” but the Duchess is just “Mama.” Victoria never
lost the habit of journaling, and by the time she died she had written over one hundred volumes. The excerpts of Victoria’s journal entries and the Duchess’s letters to her daughter in the novel are authentic, although I’ve taken the liberty of rearranging some dates.
Victoria’s childhood was incredibly restrictive. She was permitted few friends, had a limited allowance, and knew very little about the outside world. Her sketches of the most important people in her life, including Lehzen, her mother, and Signor Lablache, still exist. Her spaniel Dash was one of her few friends. She washed him weekly, doing the dirty work herself. In fact, the day she was crowned Queen, she returned from the coronation and started to wash her dog.
The Duchess had a terrible relationship with the King, although Victoria was very fond of him. To understand their animosity, you must look at the history of the family.
The Duke of Kent, Victoria’s father, was one of fifteen children of King George III (who lost the American Colonies and was widely considered insane). The royal children were despised by the public as expensive drains on the treasury. George IV, the oldest son, became Prince Regent for his father in 1810 and succeeded him in 1820. This period is called the Regency. His only child, the young, healthy Princess Charlotte, was confidently expected to inherit. However, when she died in childbirth in 1817, the succession was opened to the King’s numerous siblings. The next three brothers immediately rushed out to get married and have a legitimate heir. Because of the Royal Marriages Act of 1772, any descendent of the King could not marry without the monarch’s consent.