“For which my husband and I are grateful.”
Yourstone caught James’ stare as the Scotsman stood behind his wife. Though the queen had ignored his coy slight, the prince had not. No appreciation cast from his stern expression.
“Tell me, Lord Yourstone,” Victoria said, “does Lord Bryce’s attempt to abolish the monarchy stand any chance of passage?”
“There are many in the Commons who feel abolition would be a sign of progress. Similar to when the House of Lords was modified a few years ago. Many felt that change would be viewed favorably.”
His reminder, he knew, would fuel resentment in the men who sat around the table. A change to a Labour government had brought a call for reform to the House of Lords. Its 1,000-plus membership, heavily dependent on family for position, had evolved into an anachronism. So most of the hereditary seats were abolished and the Lords’ membership reduced to a workable number. Victoria had wholeheartedly supported the change, one of those rare occasions when she interjected herself into the political process, and many of the gentry harbored ill will for her interference.
“That does not answer my question,” Victoria said, her voice suddenly sharp. Apparently, she had sensed both jabs. “Does Lord Bryce’s move possess political strength?”
“I believe it does.”
“Explain yourself,” James said.
The prince’s deep baritone seemed to shake the walls.
Yourstone cautioned himself to remain calm. Appearances were everything. Especially now. “Richard has inflicted enormous damage. You certainly realize that. The ministers are tired of him. The people are tired of him. I’m sorry, but his becoming king would be viewed as a national disgrace. The people speak of him and your father as one.”
He realized that he was openly insulting Victoria’s father, but James had asked for an explanation.
“My father had no desire to be king,” Victoria said. “But he did his duty to the day he died.”
“That is not enough anymore. Your father ruled at a time when the press was restrained and respect was shown the monarchy. He was allowed many liberties. We live in an age of instant communication. Newspapers, television shows, mobile phones, countless websites. They all require constant content. Millions of people are more than willing to supply that content. Most of which is offered free. To survive such an informational glut, a monarch must be extraordinary. Beyond reproach. Like yourself. No one would dare attack Your Majesty, but you have given no one cause or reason.”
“Except you, Lord Yourstone. You attacked me. This morning.”
“I said nothing derogatory about Your Majesty.”
“You insulted my family, which is the same thing.”
“I merely spoke the truth. As, I assume, you want us all to do. We did not create this problem.”
Another poke at Richard’s parentage.
Victoria shifted slightly in the chair, which seemed to calm the tremors in her hands. He realized she would never publicly disparage a member of her family, no matter what he or she may have done. Royals always defended royals. But he also knew, from Eleanor, that privately the queen and prince were furious with Richard. So he said, “The Prince of Wales simply has yet to realize that he will one day be king. That, to me, is his greatest fault.”
“And will he be king?” Victoria asked.
“That is wholly dependent on your son.”
“What if he were to abdicate in favor of Albert? Would that satisfy the ministers who want the monarchy abolished?”
“Your grandson is a gentleman. The people love him. He would make an excellent king.” He was perplexed why Victoria was directing her comments only to him. Perhaps it was because he was family and she believed he would be honest. “Of course, though, Albert will not be king for many years. We all wish Your Majesty a long life, and Richard is relatively young. Albert will surely be older if, and when, he ever inherits the throne. He will have a lifetime to prepare. It is our nation’s blessing that the Saxe-Coburgs enjoy long lives.”
“And our curse,” Victoria quickly added.
“Might I inquire, Your Majesty, as to the purpose of this gathering? Rarely does the palace involve itself directly with the affairs of Parliament, particularly on matters such as this. Many have attempted to change the Crown, and few have ever succeeded. Why does this seem different?”
“It is always prudent to be cautious of another Cromwell,” James said.
“Quite correct,” Yourstone said. “But Charles I was a tyrant who plunged the nation into civil war. Cromwell had an easy matter to seize that opportunity. I would hope many lessons were learned from what happened all those centuries ago.”
“But another Guy Fawkes could be lurking,” Victoria said.
The reference to a potential royal assassin bothered him. Fawkes was hanged in 1605 for plotting to blow up James I. The nation continued to remember that betrayal every November 5 when bonfires, topped by Fawkes’ effigy, were ceremonially lit all over the country.
“Are you suggesting a possible regicide?” he asked.
“World leaders are often murdered. There is nothing that makes this monarchy immune.”
“But the royal family enjoys the finest protection. This is not the 17th century, when conspirators can could stockpile gunpowder beneath Parliament.”
“And even then,” James said, “it was only thanks to one of Fawkes’ men turning coat and revealing the plan that the effort failed.”
Yourstone caught a gleam in the prince’s eye. Was he being tested? Surveyed? Analyzed? Perhaps he’d underestimated these aging icons. And there was still the matter of Cotton Malone, whom he knew had spoken with them. He’d yet to learn the substance of that conversation. How much did these people know? Not enough. Obviously. Otherwise they’d be arresting instead of baiting him.
So he seized the moment and said to James, “What you say is true, as to what happened all those centuries ago. But as I have learned, from both life and politics, today there are so few secrets in this world.”
He paused for effect.
“So precious few.”
CHAPTER NINE
Malone was perplexed. “I’ve never considered Arthur a historical figure. I took him more as a creation of poets and novelists.”
Goulding explained that, until the 12th century, Arthur was known only in bardic tales and Welsh poems. But Geoffrey of Monmouth changed everything in 1136 when he translated the History of the Kings of Britons, a fanciful account, more fiction than reality, that elevated Arthur to a king. The story was immensely popular, and the Welsh seized on Geoffrey’s imagination. They’d never submitted to Saxons or Normans and saw in Arthur a way to keep a rebellious spirit simmering. Three hundred years later, when Sir Thomas Malory finally wrote his epic, Arthur was forever ingrained into the realm of myth.
“He was real,” Goulding said. “But not the chivalric character Malory envisioned. More likely a brutal, barbarous man who fought Saxons, not unlike a thousand other warrior leaders who arose during our Dark Ages. He was fortunate, though, that later poets saw something more in him. So they manufactured a legend.”
Malone knew about the History of the Kings of Briton, a famous and valuable rare edition. Books were his private passion. He collected them by the hundreds, his house back in Atlanta lined with shelves. His dream was to one day own a bookshop, but he doubted that would ever happen.
“It’s absolutely impossible, though, to know where truth stops and fiction begins,” Goulding said. “We can only hypothesize.”
Malone faced Mathews. “I’m assuming all of this is important in some way to what’s currently happening?”