While Adelaide worked in gay-coloured wools on the dress she was making for Victoria, enjoying the peace of Bushy, she was thinking that this could not last. There was change in the air. She could sense it.
One did not need to have special powers to do that. The King was critically ill. The fact that he kept recovering a little because of his strong constitution did not mean that he could go on doing it for ever.
King George was going to die soon and then there would be King William and Queen Adelaide.
But would there?
During the last months she had suffered a terrible fear. She had believed that William was going mad. And yet when she considered his behaviour it was eccentric more than anything else. It had been exaggerated; the rumours had done that.
And who was responsible for those rumours?
Whenever she was in the presence of the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland she felt uneasy. Was it the Duke’s appearance? That scarred face; that void where an eye should have been? Sometimes he wore a patch over it and that gave him a sinister look. It was absurd to judge him by his looks. He had been wounded in the face like many soldiers.
But had he been involved in the Graves’ affair? What had the Duchess of Cumberland thought of that? She gave the impression that she did not care.
She was embroidering the last of the flowers on the dress. This blue would bring out the colour in Victoria’s eyes, she thought. Dear child! She wished that she could see more of her. She feared that the restricted life she led at Kensington Palace was not right for a little girl. There was too much emphasis on etiquette and decorum. Victoria should be allowed to run wild like the FitzClarence grandchildren. Adelaide smiled to think of the pranks they got up to.
Victoria was now spending a few weeks by the sea. The Duchess had decided that she would take her there that she might be seen making the journey; and when she came back she would be so full of good health that the Duchess would wish the people in the Park, where they took their walks, to see it too.
There had been such unpleasant rumours about her health.
Victoria was an interesting child. Such a grown-up letter she had written for Adelaide’s birthday, accompanying some charming presents. Of course it would have been the Duchess of Kent who had chosen the presents, but they had come in Victoria’s name.
Victoria was one of the band of children with whom she had had to compensate herself for having none of her own. The FitzClarence grandchildren, the Cumber lands’ George – a delightful boy – and the Cambridges’ George too. She loved them all, although of course the Duchess of Kent was most insistent that Victoria should never meet any of the FitzClarences which was tiresome and meant that Victoria was often excluded from parties which she would have enjoyed.
Victoria was on her mind today, and when she had finished the embroidered flowers she went indoors out of the hot August sun to write to her.
She sat at her desk and wrote thanking her for the well-written birthday letter and the gifts.
It gives me great satisfaction to hear that you are enjoying the sea air. I wish I could pay a visit there and see you, my dear little niece … Your Uncle desires to be most kindly remembered to you and hopes to receive soon also a letter from you, of whom he is as fond as I am. We speak of you very often, and trust that you will always consider us to be among your best friends.
God bless you, my dear Victoria, is always the prayer of your truly affectionate
Aunt Adelaide
She sealed the letter and sent it; but she could not get Victoria out of her mind.
She could not talk to William of this sudden fear which had come to her. It obsessed her. And it concerned William too.
It was true that William had been over-excitable; it was true he made long, rambling speeches, that he was eccentric; but there was a long step between such conduct and … madness.
It was always as though there had been a force at work which was trying to send William mad.
There! She had faced it.
A force? She might go farther and bring out what was truly in her mind: the Duke of Cumberland.
It was so clear, so simple. The motive could not have been plainer. There was a crown and the Cumberlands wanted it – first for themselves and then for their son. Poor innocent young George, that charming boy whom she loved. God preserve him from the influence of his parents!
They shall never drive William insane, she thought. I will prevent that. I will stand between him and them. I will nurse him. I will not let it happen. It need not, I know – and yet the alarming thing is that it could.
William is safe … with me.
And Victoria?
Oh God, she thought, the child is in danger. Those rumours of her illness. What could they mean?
Whenever she thought of Victoria she saw a great shadow hanging over her, and she was afraid.
The Duchess of Kent and her daughter were back at Kensington Palace after the seaside holiday and Victoria, blooming with health, took her daily walks with the Duchess as far as Apsley House and back and the people cheered her as she passed.
Adelaide called at Kensington Palace. She had brought the dress she had been embroidering for Victoria who was enchanted with it. She must try it on at once, she declared.
‘You shall,’ said the Duchess. ‘Go and do so now and your Aunt Adelaide and I will have a chat while we await your return.’
As soon as she had left Adelaide looked over her shoulder furtively.
‘Is anything wrong?’ asked the Duchess.
‘I have been waiting for an opportunity to talk to you. Perhaps I am being foolish but I feel this is of such great importance to us all. Forgive me if I am stupid, but it is out of my love and concern for the child.’
‘For Victoria!’ cried the Duchess.
Adelaide nodded.
‘Pray go on.’
‘I am anxious. I believe that there is some … evil at work. I cannot forget those accounts of her weakness which were so false.’
The Duchess had turned pale. ‘Nor can I forget them,’ she said.
‘Who started those rumours? Who saw that they were circulated?’
The two women looked at each other and it was Adelaide who spoke first. ‘I believe it to be the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland.’
‘My dear Adelaide … sometimes I am terrified.’
‘I too. And there is William. Those reports about him. Oh, it is so clear. They want William put away.’
‘And Victoria?’ said the Duchess.
‘I don’t know, but I fear some evil. I beg of you, never let the child out of your sight. Keep her with you or that good woman Lehzen … all the time.’
The Duchess had put her hand to her heart. ‘Oh God, it is a terrifying thought.’
‘It is not, alas, so unusual. Crimes have been committed for a crown before. How I wish we were not so close to it. I can see great danger.’
‘I shall see that the child is guarded night and day.’
‘My thoughts will be with you.’
‘My dear, dear Adelaide!’
‘You know I love her as though she were my own daughter.’
The Duchess nodded. ‘If you should discover anything …’
‘Never fear, it is my concern too. Both for William and the child.’
‘They shan’t succeed.’
‘No,’ said Adelaide firmly. ‘We shall protect them and there is none who could do it as we can.’
‘She is coming back now.’
Victoria came in wearing the dress with the hand-embroidered flowers.
‘It is most becoming,’ said the Duchess.
Victoria turned round smiling, but she was not thinking of the dress so much as she pretended; she was wondering what they had been discussing while she had been out of the room. It was something frightening. She could see it in their faces. And she believed it concerned her.