God's will, I thought. And Uncle Leopold's.

I suppressed the thought. That was more the sort of thing Lord Melbourne would have said rather than Albert.

But I supposed Albert would have wished me to see her.

I said, “Very well, I will see them. You may conduct me to them, Wally.”

She smiled radiantly. She seemed to be very fond of Princess Alexandra.

They were presented to me. The Prince was handsome in a Nordic way—not beautiful as Albert had been, but tall and fresh looking, rather like a sailor with blue, farseeing eyes. Where would that family be but for the benevolence of King Christian who, Albert had told me when we were discussing the suitability of Alexandra, had given the man a commission in the army and the Yellow Palace for a home. Louise, his wife, was the daughter of the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel; and the Landgravine was King Christian's sister. Hence the King's kindness to this rather impoverished family.

Alexandra, in view of all this, was hardly suitable to be the bride of the Prince of Wales. After all, Uncle Leopold had put her at the bottom of the list, but there was an urgent need to get Bertie married.

I did not greatly care for Christian's wife. She was a little hard of hearing and her complexion was not natural. Painted cheeks! I wondered what Albert would have thought of that! He did so hate any form of artificiality. But the girl was charming. She was all that Wally had said she was. How different from her mother!

I thought there was no point in pretending that the subject that was uppermost in our minds did not exist. I said to Christian and his wife, “Everything will depend on the Prince of Wales. I do not know how affectionate he will feel toward your daughter.”

They looked taken aback, and so did Leopold; but he brought Alexandra forward. Such a pretty girl, and modest too. She raised her beautiful eyes to my face as she knelt, and I could feel the sympathy in them.

Then I turned to Leopold. I think he was not very much at ease. I suppose the meeting had not gone as he had hoped.

I did not join them for dinner, I could not face that, but I went down afterward. Alexandra was wearing a black dress, which was rather conspicuous among the others. She looked at me rather tremulously and I understood. What a delightful gesture! I was in mourning; she wished to respect that mourning and to share in it. I warmed to her from that moment.

They might be impoverished, they might be of little account but this girl was charming and I felt pleased that there was to be a match between her and Bertie.

I smiled at her and in that moment a bond was formed between us.


* * *

AFTER LEAVING UNCLE Leopold, I traveled to Coburg. There I visited the scenes of Albert's childhood. I recalled all that he had told me of them; it brought him back so vividly.

I was very disappointed in Ernest. He had been upset when Albert had died but I feared his feelings did not go very deep. When I thought that I might have married him, I thanked Fate for my lucky escape. But, of course, it had been my choice and I should never have chosen him.

I suspected him of all sorts of immorality. Who would not after the disgraceful affair that had so upset Albert. I guessed he was cured of that… physically… but nothing would stop his being the man he was. He was ambitious and very grasping.

He had no children and it had been Albert's wish that on Ernest's death Alfred should have the dukedom. It would go, of course, to Bertie, but Bertie would eventually be King of England and it was therefore suitable that the Dukedom of Saxe-Coburg should go to his brother.

Now a crisis had arisen in Greece. The popular assembly of that country had driven Otho, their King, from the throne and had offered the crown to Alfred.

At first I thought this was a very good proposition but I was finally convinced by Palmerston and Lord John that it was not practical. I was reminded that it had been Albert's wish that Alfred should have the Dukedom of Saxe-Coburg on Ernest's death.

When the offer was declined for Alfred, it was given to Ernest. I had thought this was a good idea for Ernest could go to Greece and Alfred could take over Saxe-Coburg without delay. But Ernest wanted the Greek crown and to retain his hold on Saxe-Coburg. He thought Alfred might go there as a kind of caretaker under his jurisdiction.

“That would not do,” said Palmerston. “It would mean that Ernest would still control the Duchy and Alfred might well be held responsible for Ernest's misrule and the mountain of debts he has managed to pile up.”

There was a great deal of discussion between us on the matter and it spoilt my visit to Coburg, which I had intended should be dedicated to the memory of Albert.

I was glad to leave.


* * *

I DECIDED THAT Alexandra must come to Osborne. I must know more of this girl who might well become Bertie's wife. If she were, she would be Queen of England, and that meant she must be entirely suitable.

I already liked her. She had shown sensitivity when I had met her at Laeken, so the invitation was sent and Alexandra arrived at the Isle of Wight with her father. Christian was to stay with the Cambridges and leave Alexandra with me.

It was a cold and miserable day when she arrived. How I hated November! Albert had been very ill in November… and in December he had gone. And on the eve of Christmas! I should never celebrate that festivity again with any pleasure. Always there would be these memories.

I was pleased to see Alexandra. She looked very fresh and pretty. Christian was a little apprehensive and very eager for his daughter to make a good impression. What an advancement for the daughter of such a simple family!

But in spite of her somewhat homely upbringing Alexandra was by no means gauche. Her grace and beauty would always carry her through. They were very much in awe of me, I think. They all seemed so much taller than I, and I suppose because of my low stature I made up for it in regal dignity. But then I had been the Queen now for many years and that sort of thing grows on one.

I was glad when Christian left. His daughter seemed more at ease then. She was perfectly natural, and I had the impression that she was not trying to please because she was eager to make a brilliant marriage, but because she was generally good-hearted and understood my grief.

Baby thought her beautiful and in her frank way announced it to us all; Lenchen adored her; Louise, perhaps, was less impressed but she could find no fault with her. Alfred thought she was wonderful. In fact I was afraid he was going to complicate matters by falling in love with her himself. Alfred was very susceptible. He had so adored Bertie when they were boys and he imitated him slavishly in everything he did; and it seemed he had caught Bertie's interest in the opposite sex.

There was no doubt about it that Alexandra was an outstanding success. She asked me questions about Osborne and I described in detail how such a little house had been acquired and all that Albert had done to transform it. She was very impressed. She thought it was wonderful.

She understood my desolation; she gave me a sympathy that was heartfelt, I knew. She encouraged me to talk about Albert—not that I needed encouragement—but I felt that was a great help, for it was a comfort to talk of him to someone who could only know of his goodness by hearsay.

We went to Windsor, which greatly impressed her. I told her how Albert had loved the place, how he had ridden in the forest and knew the names of all the trees and flowers. “But I think Balmoral was his favorite place,” I told her. “One day you will see that, dear child. I am sure you will love it as I do…as Albert did. The Scots are such good honest people. Albert built Balmoral. It is really magnificent, an example of his extraordinary talents.”

At the end of the month, Prince Christian left the Cambridges and came to take Alexandra home.

By that time we were the best of friends and I had no doubt that she was the right wife for Bertie.


* * *

THERE WAS NO reason why the wedding should be delayed. I suggested January. There was opposition from Alexandra's mother. Her daughter could not possibly travel at that time of year. I had to concede that there was something in that.

Finally March was fixed. I was glad to have something to think of, but it brought the memory of Albert back all the more vividly because I kept thinking of how he would have arranged everything.

I decided that I would give Alexandra her wedding dress and that it should be trimmed with Honiton lace as mine had been. It was rather unfortunate that on her way to England she should stay for a few days at the Laeken Palace and when she was there Uncle Leopold—who was delighted with the match—gave her a wedding dress that was trimmed with Brussels lace.

Dear Uncle Leopold! He was wonderful, of course, but he did interfere. I could not have the wedding dress of the Princess of Wales trimmed with foreign lace. It must be Honiton.

I wrote to Uncle Leopold and explained. I knew he was very disappointed, but I had long ago made him realize that as much as I loved him and no matter how poignant were memories of the past when he had meant so much to me, I could not allow him to interfere in the affairs of my country—and the marriage of the Prince of Wales was certainly that.

So Brussels lace it certainly was not. Alexandra was going to the altar in Honiton.

I sent my yacht, the Victoria and Albert, to meet Alexandra's party at Antwerp and it brought her to Gravesend where Bertie met her; from there they would drive to London and take the train to Windsor.

I was waiting with the girls to greet them on their arrival at the castle. How sweet the bride-to-be looked in her lavender cloak and gown. The dear girl had chosen lavender as a kind of half-mourning, I guessed. She could hardly have come in black, but she had made me see that Albert was in her thoughts.

What a sad contrast she made to me in my widow's black and what Baby persisted in calling “my sad cap.”

I was so overcome with memories that I could not join them for dinner. I sat in my room thinking of the day Albert had come and how I had known at once that he was the one I should love forever.

It was a great joy to see Vicky. She had brought four-year-old Wilhelm with her. It was a wonderful reunion and I looked forward to some intimate talks with her when we could remember Albert and mingle our tears.

On the day I reached the chapel, which was decorated in purple velvet, by a specially constructed path that had been covered so that I should not be seen for I did not wish to be stared at. I took my place in a box from which I could look down on the proceedings. I was in deep black with the ribbon of the Garter across my breast. I saw eyes turn to look at me, but my heart was too full for me to acknowledge these glances. My thoughts were back on that other day when Albert and I had been married.

I thought the girls looked lovely in their white dresses. Mary of Cambridge led them, looking larger than ever, but quite splendid in lilac trimmed with lace—Honiton, of course. All the lace, I noted with satisfaction, was Honiton.

There was Beatrice, wide-eyed and looking around her with enthusiasm. She looked up and seeing me, waved. I smiled, in spite of everything, wondering what she was thinking and what odd remark she would come out with. She would be no respecter of places any more than she was of persons.

Little Wilhelm was there, standing between Arthur and Leopold. He looked very sweet—though somewhat mutinous, as though he were a little weary of the proceedings. How cleverly they disguised his arm with those special sleeves! Dear children! I wondered how much of this ceremony they would remember in the years to come.

Alexandra was beautiful and Bertie looked quite handsome too. What a pity he did not resemble his father more and that Arthur was the only one who bore a likeness. It was sad. I should have liked to see those divine features in some of them.

Of course we could not expect children to behave well. Such ceremonies must seem interminable to them. I saw Lenchen and Louis wipe their eyes and Baby watching them began to sob loudly.

Lenchen's hand on her shoulder tightened and Baby said in an audible voice, “If you cry, why can't I? This is a wedding this is, where people have to cry.”