Page 23 of The Heir (A Young Queen Victoria Mystery #1)

W hen the weather allowed, the Kensington System called for Victoria to spend from half ten to eleven o’clock in the morning walking about the gardens. It was very decorous and very dull, which made it her least favorite form of exercise.

This morning, however, she was grateful for it, because it meant she had time to talk to Jane without being overheard.

There was always a crowd at the gates, eagerly craning their necks to get a look at her and cheering when they did. Victoria was very used to them by now. As she passed, she smiled and raised her hand, and they cheered all the harder.

That small duty done, Victoria linked her arm with Jane’s and drew her farther along the path. Lehzen, who followed behind with shawls and parasols and other such accoutrements, promptly began to engage Lady Flora in conversation.

I will thank her later.

“Tell me quickly,” murmured Victoria to Jane. “Were you able to learn anything?”

Jane looked troubled, as if some uncomfortable memory had caught her. “I spoke with my sister. Dr. Maton has, had, been to the house for dinner several times.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before!”

“I am not generally allowed at the table when Father has guests. I’m too young, and well, Liza’s prettier,” she whispered.

Victoria touched her hand in sympathy. Jane composed herself.

“So, I don’t usually know who’s coming. I mean, I knew that Father invites people from the palace regularly—”

Victoria froze. “Who?” Who from the palace is friends enough that he sits down to dinner with them? “Do they talk about me?”

Belatedly, Jane seemed to realize that this revelation was not a small thing to Victoria. A look of utter panic crossed her face.

“I don’t know. I told you, I’m not allowed at the dinners. But I made a list of who Liza said has been there most recently.” She glanced quickly behind and then pulled a paper from her sleeve.

Victoria took the list, willing her hands not to tremble. She unfurled the paper and read it.

Lord Melbourne Lord Duncannon Lord Dunfermline Earl of Dunham Mr. Rea Dr. Maton

“This is the board,” she breathed. “This is the Kensington board. These are the men who oversee . . .” She swallowed.

They were the men assigned to oversee her welfare.

They ultimately controlled the budget allotted for her maintenance.

They crowded into the room on examination days as her tutors quizzed her, listened to her answers, and made reports to Parliament.

They had final say over who did or did not serve in her household.

Victoria’s knees wobbled. Thankfully, there was a stone bench near at hand. She sat down abruptly.

“They all dine with him?” The men who decide where and how I live have all become Sir John’s friends?

What would they do when they heard the king was contemplating that she be removed from his care?

Victoria crumpled Jane’s list between her hands.

“Did you know?” she demanded. Her anger was ridiculous. Jane had no say in her father’s doings. But Jane was the one beside her, and she had nowhere else to direct her anger or her fear.

“I didn’t think about it,” said Jane. “It doesn’t pay to think too much about what Father is doing. It’s better to let it go on over your head.”

“Yes,” murmured Victoria. I will control myself. She and Jane had only just renewed their friendship. She could not let her temper break them apart. “I have been tempted to do so many times.”

“But you don’t.”

“I suppose not.”

“Why not?”

Victoria looked across the expanse of the lawn, toward the pond and its clusters of geese and swans. “I don’t know. I’ve tried. I know things would be much easier.”

“We should walk on,” murmured Jane. “I think Lady Flora is growing concerned.”

Lady Flora was indeed watching them intently. Victoria could just imagine what she would report to Mama. She got to her feet and resumed her stroll, with Jane close beside her.

Victoria stretched out the list and looked at it again.

“Who is this man, Mr. Rea?”

“I don’t know,” said Jane. “I think Liza said he was an accountant and a friend of Father’s from his time in the army. He’s not one of the counselors?”

Victoria shook her head. “They’ve all come to inspect me at one time or another, but I don’t know him.”

“Does it matter?”

“It might. Sir John surely finds him useful for some reason. But if he’s not a board member, then what is it?”

She waited for Jane to suggest that as Sir John had known Mr. Rea from his time in the army, he might simply be a friend. But Jane was not so naive.

“I don’t understand . . . ,” began Jane, but she let the sentence trail away.

“What, Jane? You can say anything.”

Jane looked doubtful, and Victoria found herself torn between guilt and impatience.

“What use did Father have for Dr. Maton? Why was he at these dinners with the Kensington Board? Liza said he always drank too much and Mr. Rea was the one who had to keep him from talking. Father hates a man who can’t hold his liquor.

” He had, in fact, complained about Ned’s failure in this area more than once.

“Perhaps we’ll find out this afternoon. I convinced Mother to pay a condolence call on Mrs. Maton. You’ll come, as well, and together we should be able to learn something from the family.”

But Jane hesitated. “May I ask a favor, ma’am?”

“What is it?”

“Instead of my accompanying you to the Matons, would you . . . send me on an errand?”

“What errand?”

Jane shrugged. “Any errand. Something away from the palace.”

“Why?”

Again, Jane hesitated. “It’s private.”

Victoria’s brows arched, but she nodded.

“Very well. Let’s think. What could we—”

“No, there. You see there? Those are diseased!” The booming voice reached them from up ahead.

Victoria turned, so did Jane. Aunt Sophia, in a billowing linen smock and straw hat, stood with a cluster of gardeners. She leaned on her cane and pointed emphatically at one of the flower beds.

“You see? There, and there?” She stabbed toward the nodding flowers. “They must be pruned at once, or it will spread everywhere!”

The under-gardeners looked bemused. But the head gardener nodded energetically.

“Of course, ma’am,” he said. “It will be attended to immediately. I apologize we did not do so before.”

“Well, now, no harm done. Yet,” added Aunt Sophia ominously.

Excellent! Victoria felt herself grinning. She’d been searching for an excuse to speak with Aunt Sophia alone.

She picked up her hems and hurried across the lawn.

“Aunt Sophia!”

“Vickelchen!” Aunt Sophia kissed her on both cheeks. “So, her grace let you out this morning? Did she not fear you would get your feet wet?”

“It was time for my walk. I am glad to see you, Aunt. There has been some news, and I was not sure anyone would have thought to tell you.”

Aunt Sophia shoved her bulbous spectacles up on her nose and craned her neck, as if she needed to get a better look at Victoria. “What news?”

“I’m afraid Dr. Maton is dead.”

Victoria expected some strong reaction, at the very least an exclamation that her aunt had known Sir John was a liar. But all that happened was Aunt Sophia’s face went blank for a moment.

“Maton?” her aunt murmured. “Well, well.”

“He is the one who was found on the green,” Victoria prompted.

“Not a gardener, then?” Aunt Sophia was looking out across the gardens, toward the lawn and the green.

“You knew it was not. How did you know that?”

“Well, as you have seen, I know the groundskeepers well.” She waved back toward the cluster of gardeners, who were now busy at work around the flower bed and its companion hedges.

“Is that what it was? You expected they would tell you if one of their men had died?”

“Oh, they would not have had to tell me. I know all the secrets of the flowers and the hedgerows.” She beamed.

“I’m serious, Aunt. How did you know?”

“Perhaps I did not,” said Aunt Sophia owlishly. “Perhaps I just wanted to make a scene to see your mother and her lapdog jump.”

“You’re teasing me.”

“That also could be. But you mustn’t mind it.”

“I don’t. But I do mind that you won’t answer me.” And that you and Uncle Sussex really are keeping secrets. No matter what Lehzen says.

Aunt Sophia sucked her cheeks in, making her face even more hollow. She stooped slowly, brushed three leaves off the gravel path, and straightened just as slowly.

“Did you consult Dr. Maton?” Victoria asked her.

“Occasionally, yes.”

“Was that how you knew something was amiss? He did not call on you when expected?”

Aunt Sophia’s face spasmed. “Yes, yes, that is fair. He did not behave as expected, not as he had or as I thought. Old fool, if you miss one blossom, the disease spreads.” She stopped and swayed on her feet. Victoria tensed, ready to catch her in case she began to fall.

“Vickelchen, you mustn’t mind me,” murmured Aunt Sophia.

“You mustn’t take what I say or do seriously.

No one does.” She blinked, and her low voice grew ragged.

“I am an old woman. I have lived most of my life behind walls. In the royal nunnery, they called it. Ha! If only they knew. Not that they would believe, because I am not to be believed . . .” The brittle bitterness in those words stunned Victoria.

“I’m wandering. I’m wandering. Pay me no mind, Vickelchen. ” She beamed and blinked.

She wants to appear foolish. She does not want any more questions. That heartbreak she’d felt when she realized that Uncle Sussex was keeping things from her returned.

Victoria decided to try a different approach.

“Mama and I are going to call on the Matons this afternoon,” she said. “Shall I add your condolences?”

“Yes, do. He was a good friend once, when I needed one.” Aunt Sophia’s voice softened, and her gaze grew distant. This time, Victoria decided, the emotion was real. “I do not blame him,” Aunt Sophia murmured. “Say that. Be sure to say that there is no blame on him.”

“For what, Aunt?”

Aunt Sophia still did not look at her, but the set of her jaw changed. Her hand closed and opened again. Victoria held her breath.

But then, all at once, Aunt Sophia slumped. “Ah, ah, my knees!”

She staggered, banging against Victoria, and almost knocked them both over. The waiting women, who had been waiting at a respectful distance, ran forward and caught her.

“Damned old knees!” bellowed Aunt Sophia. “They hurt! I hurt! Take me home, take me home!”

“Yes, ma’am. Come away now,” murmured her woman. “We will take you home.”

The woman turned Aunt Sophia to face the palace, but as she did, the old woman’s gnarled hand shot out and snatched Victoria’s sleeve, tearing the delicate gauze.

“Learn to live inside your walls, girl. Do not fight them. They will destroy you.”

Victoria covered over the tear in her sleeve as if it was her skin that had been scratched. She watched her aunt’s attendants lead her gently but firmly away, as they had led her out of the salon the other evening, after she had made her scene with Sir John.

After she had told one and all that he was lying.

After she told me he was lying.

Victoria felt Jane step up beside her. She’d almost forgotten the other girl. Now she was very glad she was there.

“We were talking about an errand you might go on, Jane,” Victoria said. “I’ve heard there’s an apothecary in the village, a Mr. Oslow, I think. His wife makes a lemon and verbena cordial that is said to be very soothing.”

“She might,” said Jane. “We use Mr. Cummings.”

“Well, go to Mr. Oslow and see if you can get a bottle of cordial. I want to give it to Aunt Sophia. I think she has not been sleeping well lately.”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course.”

Jane clearly did not understand everything that was happening, at least not fully.

But Victoria was not thinking about her now.

She was consumed by memory. Her mind’s eye showed her Mama at an evening party, laughing and tossing out careless, devastating insults to the lords and ladies gathered around her.

“Oh, but you must not mind me!” Mama would say afterward. “You know I take nothing seriously!”

Except Mama took everything seriously, and the people around her knew that. But in those moments, she could make them believe the opposite. It was a performance, polished and perfected by repetition. Just like her own performance as the demure princess. Or Jane’s as the dullard.

Just like Aunt Sophia’s as the doddering old woman.

“I do not blame him,” Aunt Sophia had said. “Say that.”

Blame him for what, Aunt? Victoria wondered. What were you going to tell me? And why did you change your mind?

And why that warning about my walls? What happened inside yours?