Page 32 of The Heir (A Young Queen Victoria Mystery #1)

T hankfully, the next day was a sunny one. Victoria was able to sit through her lessons and Mama’s interrogation with patience because she knew at half ten she would be required to take her morning walk through the gardens.

Victoria had never been so glad for the system’s rigid schedule in her life. When the time came, she all but leapt out of her chair.

“Let us walk out to the round pond,” she said to Jane. “I want to draw.”

So, Jane dutifully gathered up both her and Victoria’s sketchbooks and pencil boxes. She even remembered Dash’s favorite ball. Dash barked and ran for the door, more than ready to be outside.

The summer morning was oppressively hot and still.

Even the geese and ducks huddled under the shade trees, leaving the water to the swans.

Victoria had been dressed in her lightest muslin, but she still felt unbearably sticky underneath her shift, corset, and stockings.

Her hair under her bonnet was growing damp with perspiration.

The roses drooped, and the green lawn was burnt as brown as the gardeners who dug in the borders by the hedgerows.

A stone bench waited near the pond. Victoria sat down, and Jane handed her her sketchbook and opened her pencil box.

The very image of the waiting lady. Victoria quirked a brow at her.

Jane shrugged with one shoulder and nodded toward Lehzen and Lady Flora, who stood some little distance away, but not too far, holding shawls and fans and other such things that might be called for at a moment’s notice.

Also close enough to hear the conversation if they raised their voices. Victoria nodded.

Jane sat beside her and opened her own sketchbook. Anyone who came across them, or who took it into their head to watch from a window, would see a perfectly peaceful scene without a single aspect out of place.

“I got the note.” Victoria took up a charcoal stick and opened her book to a clean page. “That Sir John was making use of Dr. Maton. But there’s more to it.”

Jane’s brows rose. Victoria nodded. Then, making sure to glance occasionally out at the pond and its inhabitants, she told Jane about her attempt to visit Aunt Sophia the night before and all that happened afterward.

She did not mention the ghost.

“She wanted me to see Sir John and Mr. Rea together. I am sure of it,” Victoria concluded.

“But why would she?”

“She knows something about Sir John. She knows he has some closer connection to both Dr. Maton and Mr. Rea.”

Jane didn’t answer. But her face twisted tight.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” said Jane quickly, and Victoria rolled her eyes.

“It is something. You thought of something or remembered something. What is it?”

“It’s . . . it’s not something we talk about.”

“We?”

“The family. My family.” She paused. “My father.”

“Something to do with Dr. Maton?”

“Something he might have known about my mother.” She stopped. “And your father.”

“ What? ” Victoria cried. Lehzen and Lady Flora both came to attention. Victoria blanched. She also swatted playfully at Jane’s hands. “Oh, Jane! You ridiculous thing!” She laughed.

Jane ducked her head, as if hiding a blush.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s nothing. A delusion, a lie. I’m not sure which, but it has to be—”

“Jane Conroy. Stop it.”

Jane shut her mouth.

“Now. You’ve already gone too far,” whispered Victoria harshly. “Tell me what it is you’re talking about.”

“My father,” said Jane. “He says my mother is . . .”

“What is she?”

“A natural daughter. Of your . . . of the late Duke of Kent.”

“That is not true,” said Victoria, her voice flat, cold, and hard. “That cannot possibly be true.”

You will acknowledge that we are bound together . . .

“I only know it’s what he says,” Jane told her miserably.

“He is a liar!”

“Ma’am?” Lehzen came closer. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” said Victoria. “Nothing.”

Lehzen retreated. Victoria sat very still. She stared out, seeing nothing. Or, perhaps, everything.

“I don’t think it’s true,” Jane said. “I think it’s just something he says to us, so that we would agree to come and be your ladies . . .”

“And to spy for him,” said Victoria through clenched teeth.

“Yes,” said Jane. “But if Dr. Maton or Mr. Rea knew that it was something he believed, or something he had said, and perhaps used to convince somebody of his importance . . .”

“They could hold that against him,” said Victoria.

“Mother would tolerate almost any lie from him, but not him saying that . . .” Mama believed bastardry was a sin, that it irrevocably tainted the person.

She would not tolerate knowing Sir John had married such a person, had fathered her children. ...

“He would do almost anything to keep that rumor from her.”

The words fell heavily, and Jane sucked in a sharp breath, as if she wanted to take them back into herself. But it was too late.

Victoria looked down at her book. “You were right to tell me. I’m sorry I shouted.

” Victoria quickly sketched a little duck flapping its wings and frowning at the world.

Jane smiled just a little. She reached across with her own pencil and added a speech bubble so that the duck was quacking at the top of its lungs.

Victoria added three ducklings in the water. Jane added a fourth caught in the act of diving down, so its tiny bottom pointed to the sky. Victoria grinned and wrote, Let’s walk on. There’s something I want to do before I’m called back indoors .

Jane looked at her.

Victoria smoothed the page down and wrote, We need to talk to the groundskeepers. Let me have Dash’s ball .

* * *

Thankfully, the men were still about their business in the gardens.

Getting close to them was easy enough. Victoria took Dash’s ball and tossed it for him to chase.

The spaniel loved his toy, but he loved new people more and quickly abandoned the ball in the grass to go and make new friends, and also to investigate what fascinating mysteries surely awaited in the herbaceous border.

“Oh dear!” Victoria hurried to fetch her truant dog, with Jane at her heels.

The groundskeepers took off their hats as she reached them, and bowed.

Victoria beamed at them. She also picked up Dash, who wriggled and licked her chin.

Victoria turned to the head groundskeeper.

Richards was his name, she remembered. He was not an old man, but a life outdoors had left him tough, tanned, and wrinkled, despite his broad straw hat and loose smock.

He was tiny and wiry, but she had the impression he was perfectly ready to move a mountain with a shovel and barrow if the job required it.

“I do apologize for Dash, Richards,” she said. “I hope he did not do too much damage.”

“No harm done, ma’am,” the man said calmly.

“I’m glad,” she replied. “I appreciate you have been given more than the usual amount of trouble of late.”

This puzzled him. “Well, now, ma’am, I would not say so. ’Tis always a busy time of year. Must make hay while the sun shines, if you understand me, but—”

“But this business with Dr. Maton. It is very hard.”

“Ah. Yes.” Richards scratched his stubbled chin.

“Very sorry about it, I was. Always very gentlemanlike, Dr. Maton. Heard young Simpson there coughing one day and gives him a going-over on the spot. Says he’ll send round some special syrup, and he did that the next day.

Did the lad a world of good. Thoughtful like that, he was. ”

Victoria nodded. “It must have been a shock to find him so.”

“Well, it was, and it wasn’t. I mean, it’s sure a shock when Sir John comes to get us, says, ‘Bring a barrow.’ Says Dr. Maton has dropped down, God rest him, and he must be got home. ‘Mustn’t be any fuss,’ he says. So, we gets the barrow, and pon my soul, ma’am, we took as much care as we could.”

“I am sure that you did.” That explains the wheel marks Jane saw.

“Coulda told him so much walking wasn’t good for a gentleman his age,” Richards went on. “Not bred to it, like.”

This startled her. “Did Dr. Maton walk on the green that much?”

“Oh, yes, he was always back and forth across there. All weathers. At least once a week, if not more. Not a problem for someone like me.” He chuckled and flexed his wiry arm. “Used to it, you know, but he was a city man, if you understand me.”

“I do indeed,” said Victoria solemnly. “Now, I must not keep you from your work any longer.”

The men all bowed, and Victoria strode back to the path, with Jane right behind her. Victoria put Dash down, retrieved the ball, which Jane had remembered to collect, and tossed it. Dash barked and ran, and Victoria watched.

“Which of us will say it?” breathed Jane.

“I will, if you like.” Dash had caught up with the ball and now galloped back to them.

Jane nodded.

“Dr. Maton was walking the route that would take him to your house.” Victoria threw the ball again. Dash barked and ran, delighted.

“We know he was working closely with Father, so that’s really not a surprise,” said Jane. “And if Father wanted to dictate what rumors the doctor was spreading or find out what new gossip he was hearing, that would not be a conversation they could safely have in the palace.”

“So was Dr. Maton keeping your father’s secrets or spreading them?” muttered Victoria.

“Perhaps both,” whispered Jane, glancing over her shoulder. Lehzen and Lady Flora were still there, of course, but too far away to hear. Hopefully. “Perhaps that’s why he was so dangerous.”

“Sir John is much with my mother, of course, but during lesson time, he is frequently about his own business. They could have met then.” Victoria paused to take the ball from Dash and toss it out again. “Would your sister have seen them? Might she have overheard something?”

“She might. I can ask. Although, if it was in the morning, she would generally be out of the house on Mother’s errands, if she’s awake at all.”

“Mmm. Yes. There’s that. But would you ask, anyway? Just in case?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Jane, but her mind was not on the words. She had gone distant and grave.

“What is it?” Dash was barking at a bee in the clover. “Dash! Leave it!” Dash gave the insect one more good bark and turned back to hunting for his ball.

“It’s just . . . Something happened yesterday,” Jane said. “My mother, she called me into her, and she tried to get me to talk about you. She never does that. She talked about how well I’m getting along with you and how pleased Father is.”

Victoria laughed. “If he only knew.”

A smile flickered across Jane’s features. “But then she said something about Father. She said, ‘He is not always careful with the little things. Small details, small men . . . He leaves them scattered about.’”

“Do you think she knows something?”

“Or suspects something. Maybe. It’s difficult to tell with her. She makes such a show of not wanting any bother.”

“You must talk to her if you can.” Motion caught Victoria’s eye. It was Lehzen, signaling it was time they returned to the palace. Victoria nodded and walked on. She must be back for luncheon and afternoon lessons and afternoon exercise and a nap and then to dress for the dinner and all the rest.

“But our most urgent task,” Victoria said, “is to contrive a way for me to speak with Dr. Gerald Maton.”

“You can’t possibly,” said Jane. “You even aren’t allowed to go downstairs without someone holding your hand. They’ll never let you out to see a strange man. And there’s no reason for him to come to the palace . . .”

“There will be a way,” said Victoria. “I’ve spent half my life finding the cracks in Sir John’s system. This is just one more.”

Jane fell silent, but Victoria knew what she was thinking.

But none of the other times involved sneaking out of the palace.

It makes no difference. Victoria lifted her chin. There will be a way.

Victoria repeated that to herself several times to make sure she believed it.