“It will grow again when you are well,” said Lehzen.

“What has happened to me?” I cried.

“You had typhoid fever, dearest. But you have recovered and your hair will be as lovely as ever and so will you be… quite soon. Young people recover from these upsets very quickly.”

“But I am sixteen, Lehzen. That is not really a young person.”

“It is still young. You are going to be well in next to no time. I shall see to that.”

“You have been here all the time?”

“Day and night, my dearest, and when I cannot be here your Mama is.”

“That is comforting. And tell me the truth, Lehzen, will my hair grow again?”

“I swear it,” said Lehzen, putting some caraway seeds into her mouth as she always did when she was emotional.

“Oh, dearest Lehzen, how glad I am that you are here to look after me. You are the dearest friend I ever had.”

She nodded, kissed me, and bade me rest. “The more rest you have, the more good food you eat, the sooner you will be better.”

I trusted Lehzen. I would soon be well.

A rather unpleasant incident took place one evening, which I could not think of for a long time after without experiencing shivers down my spine.

It was just beginning to get dark, when I was awakened suddenly by a sense of evil. I saw the darkening room and felt the heaviness of my limbs to which I had become accustomed. I could not understand what had awakened me. I saw the familiar objects of the room begin to take shape. Lehzen was sitting by the fire; her needlework had fallen from her hands and she was asleep.

Someone was in the room, coming stealthily toward the bed.

To my horror I saw that it was the man whom I had come to think of as a sinister enemy—Sir John Conroy—and he was tiptoeing silently toward me.

I started up. “What do you want here…in my room?” I demanded.

He put his finger to his lips and glanced at Lehzen.

I went on, “I have been ill. I do not have visitors.”

“This is different. This is only your old friend.”

“No,” I said firmly.

He was right beside my bed now, and he laid a hand on mine, which was outside the bedclothes. I withdrew it sharply.

“A quick word,” he whispered. “Nothing more. I just want you to give me your promise.”

“What promise?”

“Your solemn promise… that's all. Give it to me and I will go.”

“Do you think I would promise you something without knowing what it is?”

“Your mother has agreed that it is best for you to do this.”

“I want to know what.”

“It is all very simple.” He was still whispering and poor Lehzen, tired out from looking after me, slumbered on. He glanced toward her and smiled. Then he went on, “You are going to need a private secretary when you are Queen. I have been with you for years. I know you well. I respect you so much. The post should be mine. Just give me your solemn promise. That is all I want. Give that to me and I will go and tell your Mama that you have agreed. She will be so delighted.”

“No,” I said firmly. “No. No.”

“You are very weak at the moment. We can talk more of this when you are fully recovered…Just for now your promise…your solemn promise will do. You are naturally honorable and would never go back on a solemn promise. That is all I ask. We can talk together…your mother, you, and I…when you are well—and that will not be long now.”

“I will give no promise.”

“The matter is urgent.”

“Why?”

“You must be ready when the time comes.”

“I am ready.”

“You are young…young and pretty. You like to dance and sing and play. It is only right that you should. So you need a secretary to take on all the disagreeable work. I have a paper here. Your signature is all that is needed.”

“No,” I repeated. “No.”

This conversation had been conducted in whispers, but now I spoke loudly. I said, “Go now. I am not well enough to be disturbed like this.”

That woke Lehzen. She jumped to her feet in alarm.

“What?” she stammered. “Why…?”

“Do not disturb yourself, Baroness,” said Sir John suavely. “The Princess and I have been transacting a little business.”

“The Princess is not well.”

“This was nothing to harm her. Just a little light conversation.”

“The Princess does not receive visitors.”

“Oh come, I am a member of the household. And I have the Duchess's permission to call on the Princess.”

Lehzen was splendid as I knew she always would be.

“I will not have you disturbing the Princess. Please leave at once.”

“My dear Baroness, you exceed your authority.”

“It is my duty to protect my Princess from upsets of any sort. She wishes you to leave at once.”

He turned to me appealingly and I cried, “Yes, I do. Go away. I will give you no promise. Leave me alone.”

“Oh come, come,” he said placatingly. “We don't want a storm, do we?”

“If I want a storm I will have one,” I retorted, “and I shall not appoint you as my private secretary now … or ever. Please go.”

Lehzen went to the door and held it open. He lifted his shoulders and bowed to us, smiling that sneering smile that I hated so much.

He went out and Lehzen firmly shut the door.

She came to the bed and took me in her arms, holding me tightly against her.

“I hate that man,” I said.

“He is a monster. It is a pity…”

“Yes, Lehzen, say it. It is a pity he is here. How dared he! To come into my room like that and try to get a promise from me when I was feeling too weak to resist. That was what he wanted, and he thought I would be too ill to fight him. It is clear to me.”

Lehzen stroked my hair.

“You must not be upset, my pet. It is bad for you. And I was asleep when he came in! I cannot forgive myself.”

“Dear Lehzen, you were worn out with caring for me.”

“To think I was asleep!”

“I dealt with him. Lehzen, they…he is getting worried. It is because I am past sixteen, and there are less than two more years to go when Mama might be Regent and before I am Queen. Who knows, she may hope to be Regent even then.”

Lehzen did not say anything. She was too upset. She kept calling me her baby; and I had a feeling that she, like my mother, did not want me to grow up.


* * *

IT TOOK ME quite a long time to recover from my illness. Lehzen used to brush my hair every night and she always said it was growing and would soon be as thick as it used to be, but whether that was true or whether she was comforting me I was not sure. But I did begin to feel stronger and more like my old self.

I think many people had believed that I would not get over my illness. It was certain that the Duke of Cumberland did. How he longed to be King himself with poor blind George to follow him. Sly and ruthless as he was, he did act rather incautiously. Very often instead of furthering his schemes, he ruined them.

I did hear a disquieting story. During my illness he had been often with the King. I remembered how he had been in attendance on the late George IV right up to the time of his death and what anxiety there had been when Mama had thought he was trying to get Uncle George to insist that I go to Windsor, where Mama was sure Cumberland would try to get rid of me. Now that I was ill he was currying favor with William.

That was not easy. Uncle William might be called a bumbling old fool, but he was not without a certain shrewdness and he could not be so easily duped.

The story was that during a banquet when the monarch's health was being drunk, Cumberland raised his glass and said, “The King's heir. God bless him.”

There was silence around the table for Cumberland was behaving as though I were as good as dead—in which case he would be the next.

Uncle William was furious. He went very red in the face and standing up he lifted his glass and cried very loudly, “The King's heir. God bless her!”

Dear Uncle William!

Mama laughed heartily over that. I heard her talking to the odious one about it.

“That has finished him! He was a little too sure of himself this time.”

It seemed that she was right. Cumberland disappeared from Court and I began to get better.


* * *

WHAT A JOY it was to return to Kensington. There, a surprise awaited me, for I found that we had better apartments than before. We had seventeen rooms in all and that was a great improvement.

“Only what is due to the dignity of a queen,” said Mama.

I wanted to remind her that I was not yet that, but refrained from doing so. She was so excited because Uncle Leopold had written to tell her that two cousins, with their father, were coming to England; and she was always delighted to see her relatives.

This was her brother Ferdinand and his two sons, Ferdinand and Augustus. I was a little disappointed, for when I had first heard that cousins were coming I had thought of Ernest and Albert. However the prospect of a visit from cousins was always interesting and I shared Mama's happy anticipation.

In due course they arrived, and they were all charming, particularly Ferdinand, the elder cousin. He was on his way to Portugal to be married, and that made him seem a very romantic figure.

It was a repetition of that other cousinly visit; we rode, walked, danced, and sang together. They were able to bring us news of Uncle Leopold and Aunt Louise; and I was very happy for them because they now had a little son who was named Leopold after his father. I had been in transports of joy when I had heard of the child's safe arrival. Dear Aunt Louise must have been particularly joyful as she had been disappointed once before.

When Uncle William and Aunt Adelaide invited the cousins to Windsor I was in a fever of apprehension lest there should be tension between the King and Mama.

He did ignore her and made a point of my sitting between him and George Cambridge at dinner there; but perhaps due to Aunt Adelaide's tact, we managed to avoid a real upset and Mama and the King satisfied themselves with black looks.

I was glad when the visit was over, which was such a pity, for I did love Windsor and the King was always so kind to me. We danced often and that was a great pleasure. I had too little dancing. Mama said I should not dance with anyone who was not royal, which meant that there were very few people with whom I could dance. But the cousins loved dancing, and would often whirl me around the drawing-room—which was of course permissible.

I was very sorry when they left and kept telling myself how fortunate I was to have such delightful cousins.

That was like a prelude. It was not long after the departure of those cousins when Mama summoned me to her apartments. She was waving a letter in her hand and I knew that it was good news.

My heart began to beat more quickly. Could it really be…at last?

“Your Uncle Ernest is coming.”

Uncle Ernest! He was the one who had been so harsh with his wife Luise—Albert's mother.

“And,” went on Mama, “he is bringing with him his two sons—your cousins Ernest and Albert.”

“Oh, Mama!”

“I thought you would be pleased. Uncle Leopold is delighted that they are coming. He says he very much hopes that you and Albert will like each other. He is, as a matter of fact, certain that you will. He says he knows you both so very well and he regards you as his beloved children.”

“Oh Mama, that is wonderful!”

“They will be here in May.”

“For my birthday?”

Mama nodded.

I said, “My seventeenth birthday!” Mama looked a little less pleased, but I took every opportunity of reminding her how old I was getting.

Excitedly I discussed the visit with Lehzen. I would get out my drawing books to show them. I wondered if Albert … the cousins… liked drawing. I wondered if they sang. Did they like dancing?

“They would have been taught these accomplishments as a part of their education,” said Lehzen.

“Yes, Lehzen, but there is a difference between being taught and liking.”

Lehzen patted my shoulder and smiled at me.

Inevitably trouble began to show itself. I had not realized before how anxious people were for me to marry a husband who should be chosen for me by them. Being in my position meant that there were differing opinions in the family and it was a foregone conclusion that the one chosen for me by my mother would not be the King's elect.