Page 14 of The Heir (A Young Queen Victoria Mystery #1)
A pologize? Victoria stared at Sir John. He remained in his deep bow, and his face, what she could see of it, was filled with contrition.
Victoria stared, frozen. How do I answer this? Sir John did not apologize. He blustered, he excused, he circumnavigated, but never once did he say he was sorry.
Even Mama looked startled. As for the rest of the gathering—they didn’t even pretend not to hear this extraordinary declaration.
“Why, Sir John!” Mama exclaimed. “What can you possibly have done?”
“Indeed,” boomed Aunt Sophia. “I can’t wait to hear this.” She toddled forward until she stood directly beside Mama.
This was the moment the door opened, and Lehzen slipped quietly into the room.
Victoria’s heart leapt into her throat. But however much she wanted to, she couldn’t run to her governess or even call her over.
Lehzen must take her place against the wall with the other waiting ladies and women, and Victoria must stay where she was, caught between Mama and Sir John and whatever game he was playing now.
Because it was a game. It must be. Sir John straightened and gave them all a thin smile. It was meant to look sheepish, but Victoria saw the knife-edged gleam in his eye. He was set to deliver a move he was certain would mean checkmate for her.
“I am afraid that after Her Highness informed us this morning that she had seen a corpse on the green, I did not believe her.”
Victoria’s heart thumped. What is happening? Sir John apologizing . . . and apparently accepting her story. And this after he had tried so hard to convince her she’d been imagining things.
“A corpse, Sir John!” cried Lady Cowper.
“Yes. It is shocking indeed. But, you see, Her Highness fell from her horse—”
This announcement was met with a chorus of horrified gasps, some of which might even have included genuine feeling.
“Let me say at once there is no cause for alarm,” said Mama. “As you can see, Her Highness is quite well.” Mama’s gaze bored into Victoria’s own. The message was plain. She was to do her part to reassure the assembly.
Victoria lowered her lashes and made herself murmur, “In fact, Dr. Clarke said distinctly no material harm came of it.” Hopefully, her display of decorous self-effacement would soften Mama’s glower.
“Indeed, he commented that members of our family in general are blessed with sturdy constitutions and hard heads.”
The laughter was general and nervous. The guests, clearly, were not certain it was correct to appear amused at such a joke.
“I cannot count the number of spills I took as a girl,” remarked Lady Cowper. “I was quite the despair of my parents.”
“That one can readily believe,” quipped Mama. The party laughed again, much more heartily this time—all except for Lady Cowper and Victoria herself, who felt her cheeks coloring as she blushed for Mama.
Aunt Sophia didn’t laugh. She kept her watery eyes fixed on Sir John. “Do continue, Sir John. We are all on pins and needles to hear what has happened!”
“When the princess was returned to the palace, she told us that she had seen a dead man on the green and that was what had startled her horse.” He paused to allow for another collective gasp and a ripple of murmurs.
Just like an actor on the stage. “Having experience with my own daughters and the . . . energetic imaginations of young ladies, I have to admit I doubted that this could be true. I was wrong, Your Highness, and I ask that you accept my apology.” He bowed yet again.
Mama looked set to speak, to turn away from Sir John and the whole of this conversation. But Victoria spoke up first.
“And what has happened to change your mind, Sir John?”
“I spoke with the head groundskeeper,” he told her, told the whole room, really.
“I learned that Your Highness had unfortunately happened upon a simple, everyday tragedy. The man you saw was one of the under-gardeners. He had been walking home to his supper. He was quite elderly, and it seems his heart gave out.”
Various pious murmurings filled the air. Victoria found herself looking very hard at Sir John. He appeared relaxed and confident, as he generally was when he was sure of his audience and his subject.
Could he be telling the truth?
“The poor man,” Mama was saying. “We shall remember him tonight in our prayers.”
“Yes, of course,” said Victoria gravely.
“Ridiculous!” snapped Aunt Sophia.
“I beg your pardon?” Mama’s words were pure ice.
“There is no dead gardener. I would have known. You are making up a story, Sir John. What on earth do you mean by it?” She reached up with her ivory fan and slapped him hard across the arm.
The entire gathering had gone silent. Mama’s face was paper white. And yet no one moved. There was no protocol for this, no person of rank sufficient to intervene with the princess.
Except one.
“You are right, of course, Aunt Sophia.” Victoria stepped forward and slipped her arm through her aunt’s.
“And I am sure that as soon as the steward has looked into the matter, he will come see you at once, and everything will be cleared up. I’m surprised at you, Sir John,” she added with a delicate frown.
“That you should come here before you had all the facts in hand and disturb Her Highness so.”
Sir John’s face remained bland, but behind his blue eyes, anger boiled.
“I do apologize, ma’am,” he said to Aunt Sophia. “It was only that I was in a hurry to correct my previous error.”
“I hope Your Highness may find all her advisers so diligent,” said Lady Cowper.
Victoria smiled politely. “It has gotten late. We should retire, do you not think, Aunt? Mama?”
“Yes, indeed.” Mama gestured for Sophia’s anxious maid to come forward. “Lady Charlotte, Lehzen, Her Highness will retire.”
As Aunt Sophia was led away by her own attendants, the whole gathering made their reverences.
Victoria saw how the guests’ eyes gleamed with pity for Princess Sophia and with greed at how they would have so much to tell all their friends.
But she saw something else, as well. As Aunt Sophia turned away, Victoria caught a glimpse of a swift, satisfied smile on the old woman’s face
What just happened here?
Victoria let herself be walked away, with Lehzen beside her and her other ladies and maids behind. Mama would stay behind and close the gathering and try to ensure that the gossip and news were steered in the proper direction.
With Sir John’s able assistance, of course.
When the doors were closed, Victoria squeezed Lehzen’s hand, and Lehzen squeezed hers in return, signaling she understood. They might be leaving the party, but their evening was not yet done.
Because of the music party, all the rooms in this wing of the palace were well lit.
Lamps and candles and footmen had all been stationed at regular intervals.
Victoria swept past until they reached the stone stairs.
There Victoria paused. “I believe I should like to go say good night to Aunt Sophia,” she told Lehzen. “It may help settle her mind.”
“An excellent idea, ma’am,” agreed Lehzen at once. “Lady Charlotte, might I suggest that you take the women to Her Highness’s rooms and make sure all is in readiness? Perhaps some hot milk would be in order?”
Lady Charlotte did not like Aunt Sophia, so she was perfectly ready to accept any excuse to avoid such a visit. “An excellent idea, ma’am.” She made her curtsy and her escape, taking the remainder of the maids and waiting women with her.
With no one now to see, Lehzen let go of Victoria’s hand. Freed, Victoria ran up the stone stairs, her slippers making fluttering echoes against the walls.
Uncle Sussex and Aunt Sophia both resided in the farthest wing of the palace. There was no proper corridor between their apartments and Victoria’s, only a long, straight succession of doors that opened between unused chambers.
Drafts curled across the bare floorboards.
No guests were expected here, only the family, so these rooms had not been lit.
All the windows were shuttered, allowing just the faintest smear of moonlight to shine on the floorboards.
The only other light was from the lamp Lehzen carried.
The patter of their slippers combined with the soft scratching of the mice and other vermin that lived in the walls.
Safe in these thick, rustling shadows, Victoria asked, “What kept you so long, Lehzen? What did you learn at the stables?”
“Very little. By the time I was able to speak with Mr. Saddler, Sir John had already dismissed your groom Hornsby.”
“Dismissed him! Why?”
“He said it was for insolence toward Your Highness.”
“Ridiculous,” snapped Victoria.
Lehzen’s silence said that she agreed on this point.
“You heard Sir John’s story?” Victoria asked. “That it was an elderly gardener I saw? That the man had been walking home, and his heart failed him?”
This time, Lehzen’s silence was less easy to read. The lamp threw more shadows than light across her face and hid her expression.
“I do not believe it,” Victoria told her.
“I dare say,” muttered Lehzen.
“Don’t tell me you do believe?”
Lehzen shook her head. “I lost my ability to believe Sir John long ago.” Her attention seemed to drift to the darkness around them, as if she sensed something looming just beyond the circle of lamplight. “Ma’am,” she said. “Why are you doing this?”
“I want to talk to Aunt Sophia,” Victoria said, deliberately misunderstanding Lehzen’s meaning. “She knows more than she lets on, and there was something behind her scene in the music room, and I want to know what it is.”
Lehzen did not look happy about this, but neither did she argue. She simply said, “Yes, ma’am,” and held the lamp higher so Victoria could see her way.