The Queen's Husband Read online

  About the Book

  From the time they were in their cradles, Victoria and Albert were destined for each other. However, the passive Albert is well aware that marriage to a quick-tempered, demonstrative young woman like Victoria could result in unnecessary scenes and stormy court feuds.

  And he is right. The young Queen, as well has having to endure her constant pregnancies, is in perpetual revolt against any encroachment on her position – and Albert is doing just that.

  Despite attempts on her life and crises like the Crimean War and the Indian Mutiny, her family – Albert and their nine children – is her prime concern. The Victorian age is truly under way – but the real power behind the throne was the queen’s husband.

  Praise for Jean Plaidy

  ‘One of the country’s most widely read novelists’ Sunday Times

  ‘One of our best historical novelists’ News Chronicle

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Version 1.0

  Epub ISBN 9781446427286

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  Published by Arrow Books in 2008

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  Copyright © Jean Plaidy, 1973

  Initial lettering copyright © Stephen Raw, 2008

  The Estate of Eleanor Hibbert has asserted its right to have Jean Plaidy identified as the author of this work.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  First published in Great Britain in 1973 by Robert Hale and Company

  The Random House Group Limited

  20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, London SW1V 2SA

  www.rbooks.co.uk

  Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at:

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  The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 9780099513551

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title

  Copyright

  Praise for Jean Plaidy

  About the Author

  Available in Arrow by Jean Plaidy

  Chart

  I: Alberinchen

  II: Prince Albert

  III: The Little Cousin of Kensington

  IV: Preparations

  V: The Brief Honeymoon

  VI: The Honeymoon is Over

  VII: Shots on Constitution Hill

  VIII: The Princess Royal

  IX: In-I-Go Jones

  X: Lord Melbourne Departs

  XI: Not the Queen, but Albert’s Wife

  XII: A Long Holiday for the Baroness

  XIII: A Visit to the Continent

  XIV: Poor Lord Melbourne

  XV: In Albert’s Native Land

  XVI: Bertie in Trouble

  XVII: Revolution

  XVIII: Lord Palmerston Offends the Queen

  XIX: Naughty Bertie

  XX: Albert’s Exhibition

  XXI: Deaths and Birth

  XXII: Crimea

  XXIII: A Proposal for Vicky

  XXIV: Mutiny

  XXV: Vicky’s Wedding

  XXVI: Bertie’s Progress

  XXVII: The Betrothal of Alice

  XXVIII: A Fatal Journey

  Bibliography

  Praise for Jean Plaidy

  ‘Plaidy excels at blending history with romance and

  drama’ New York Times

  ‘Outstanding’ Vanity Fair

  ‘Full-bodied, dramatic, exciting’ Observer

  ‘Plaidy has brought the past to life’

  Times Literary Supplement

  ‘One of our best historical novelists’

  News Chronicle

  ‘An excellent story’

  Irish Press

  ‘Spirited … Plaidy paints the truth as she sees it’

  Birmingham Post

  ‘Sketched vividly and sympathetically … rewarding’

  Scotsman

  ‘Among the foremost of current historical novelists’

  Birmingham Mail

  ‘An accomplished novelist’

  Glasgow Evening News

  ‘There can be no doubt of the author’s gift for storytelling’

  Illustrated London News

  ‘Jean Plaidy has once again brought characters and

  background vividly to life’ Everywoman

  ‘Well up to standard … fascinating’

  Manchester Evening News

  ‘Exciting and intelligent’

  Truth Magazine

  Jean Plaidy, one of the pre-eminent authors of historical fiction for most of the twentieth century, is the pen name of the prolific English author Eleanor Hibbert, also known as Victoria Holt. Jean Plaidy’s novels had sold more than 14 million copies worldwide by the time of her death in 1993.

  For further information about our Jean Plaidy reissues and mailing list, please visit

  www.randomhouse.co.uk/minisites/jeanplaidy

  Available in Arrow by Jean Plaidy

  The Tudors

  Uneasy Lies the Head

  Katharine, the Virgin Widow

  The Shadow of the Pomegranate

  The King’s Secret Matter

  Murder Most Royal

  St Thomas’s Eve

  The Sixth Wife

  The Thistle and the Rose

  Mary Queen of France Lord Robert

  Royal Road to Fotheringay

  The Captive Queen of Scots

  The Medici Trilogy

  Madame Serpent

  The Italian Woman

  Queen Jezebel

  The Plantagenets

  The Plantagenet Prelude

  The Revolt of the Eaglets

  The Heart of the Lion

  The Prince of Darkness

  The Battle of the Queens

  The Queen from Provence

  The Hammer of the Scots

  The Follies of the King

  The French Revolution

  Louis the Well-Beloved

  The Road to Compiègne

  Flaunting, Extravagant Queen

  The Isabella and Ferdinand Trilogy

  Castile for Isabella

  Spain for the Sovereigns

  Daughters of Spain

  The Victorians

  The Captive of Kensington Palace

  The Queen and Lord M

  The Queen’s Husband

  The Widow of Windsor

  Chapter I

  ALBERINCHEN

  The family were in the summer residence, the charming little schloss called Rosenau, some four miles from Coburg; and the two Grandmamas had come to visit them. The first thing they did when they arrived was to hurry to the nursery for both Grandmama Saxe-Coburg and Grandmama Saxe-Gotha doted on the two little boys, Ernest aged five and Albert, fondly known as Alberinchen, just a little over a year younger.

  Alberinchen was the favourite. He was such a beautiful child with his big blue eyes and dimples. ‘More like a girl than a boy,’ said his nur
ses. Ernest was bigger than his year’s seniority warranted; he was brown-eyed and more physically energetic than his brother, and although they quarrelled constantly and fought now and then, the children were miserable when separated and because of the closeness of their ages they did almost everything together.

  Alberinchen knew, though, that he was the favourite of the grandmothers and what was more important, of his mother, for the happiest times of his life were when she came to the nursery; she was beautiful and different from anyone else Alberinchen had ever known. Life without Ernest would have been inconceivable, for Ernest was almost always there, but his feelings for Ernest were made up of rivalry, companionship and custom; his mother was as beautiful as his conception of an angel; she laughed all the time and her suffocating caresses filled him with bliss.

  ‘Where are my big boys?’ she would cry, peeping round the door of the nursery; and they would both run forward, Alberinchen pushing Ernest aside, knowing that Ernest would not retaliate because if he did Alberinchen would cry and the precious half hour of Mama’s visit would be spent in consoling him. Alberinchen’s tears were notorious; when they came it was everyone’s desire to stop them as soon as possible.

  Alberinchen would sit on his mother’s lap and Ernest would lean against her; she would place her arm about him and they would talk about a new game she had thought of. It was very different from other people’s visits. They always wanted to know about lessons; and the two little boys would be expected to read their books or repeat the verses they had learned; but with Mama they would be playing the new game which involved a good deal of fun.

  On this occasion the door was opening and there was Mama, Duchess of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, looking so beautiful and excited that the two little boys, shrieking with delight, ran to her and clung to her gown.

  ‘So my two little boys are glad to see me?’ she asked unnecessarily.

  ‘Alberinchen’s here,’ Alberinchen reminded her.

  She lifted him up. Beautiful little Alberinchen, she thought; my consolation. What a lovely child and how he depended on her.

  ‘And Ernest too,’ said Ernest.

  ‘My precious darlings,’ cried the Duchess.

  ‘What shall we play?’ demanded Ernest.

  ‘Your grandmamas will be here at any moment. I was surprised that at least one of them is not here already.’ Mama grimaced. ‘So perhaps we should not be discovered crawling round on the floor. We’ll have to play a word game instead.’

  Ernest wailed and Alberinchen was about to cry when it occurred to him that he was more likely to win at a word game. But that game was never played because just at that moment Grandmama Saxe-Coburg came in.

  Ernest pouted and Alberinchen was disappointed but he wanted Grandmama Saxe-Coburg to go on loving him so he did not betray the fact that he was disappointed.

  ‘How are the little boys today?’ asked Grandmama Saxe-Coburg.

  ‘Well and happy,’ said their mother.

  She caught up Alberinchen and held her face against his.

  ‘The resemblance is remarkable,’ said Grandmama Saxe-Coburg.

  ‘Well, why shouldn’t I be like my own son?’ said the Duchess.

  ‘And Ernest is just like his father.’

  Alberinchen smiled smugly; it was of course far better to be like his mother, who was gay and beautiful, than like his father who had lines on his face and pouches under his eyes; although Alberinchen, in fairness to Ernest, could not see that Ernest was in the least like him.

  ‘I daresay we shall see the Saxe-Coburg coming out in little Alberinchen in due course,’ said Grandmama.

  ‘I am sure you will search most assiduously for a resemblance.’

  There was something strange about the way in which they were speaking to each other. Alberinchen was only faintly aware of it; he wished Grandmama Saxe-Coburg would go, so that he could be the centre of attention.

  ‘And how are they getting along with their lessons? I was speaking to their governesses …’

  Mama grimaced, which made her seem as though she were a child in the nursery; Alberinchen gripped her hand tightly. He would be ready to cry if he could not answer the questions Grandmama Saxe-Coburg asked him.

  ‘They are a little young for so many lessons,’ said the Duchess. ‘Little Alberinchen is only four.’

  ‘They can’t start learning too young,’ said Grandmama, ‘and if properly taught, lessons are a joy like games and sports.’

  Alberinchen could not agree with that so he kept close to his mother; but he realised that she was ineffectual against Grandmama Saxe-Coburg so the lesson books came out and he had to spell out the words; and as he did better than Ernest there was no need for tears.

  While they were thus engaged Grandmama Saxe-Gotha (the young Duchess’s step-mother) came in and sat listening, nodding with approval; and this went on until Mama said she was going riding and must leave them to get ready.

  Alberinchen’s face puckered, but she held him tightly against her and kissed him fervently.

  ‘Darling Alberinchen, I’ll see you later on. And you too, my precious Ernest.’

  So they were left with the grandmothers.

  There was something rather alarming in the air; Alberinchen was not sure what. Was it the manner in which the grandmothers looked at each other?

  ‘Now, Ernest, read from here.’

  Ernest with his rather imperturbable good humour began stammering out the words.

  ‘Can it possibly be true?’ whispered Grandmama Saxe-Coburg.

  ‘I hesitate to say, but I very much fear …’

  ‘She could not be so … criminal …’

  ‘Ernest I fear has not been …’

  ‘But Ernest is a man … and that is different. But if this is true … I tremble …’

  ‘I always thought her frivolous.’

  ‘You heard what she said about my looking for the likeness to his father?’

  ‘Why is there always trouble in the family?’

  ‘Hush. The boys.’

  ‘They wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘Little ones have big ears.’

  Alberinchen touched his ears which made the grandmothers gasp.

  ‘You see.’

  ‘I do. Alberinchen, my darling, show me your drawings. I’m sure Grandmama Saxe-Coburg would be delighted to see them.’

  He was so excited by his drawings that he immediately forgot the conversation he had heard; but he remembered it later.

  The young Duchess of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld hastily changed into her riding-habit. What a relief, she thought, to get out of the palace for a short while. She could not bear the censorious attitude of her mother-in-law and her step-mother. She knew they were discussing her now.

  I don’t care, she thought. I must have some life or I’d die of boredom.

  Her marriage had been a failure from the start. How she had cried when at sixteen they had married her to the Duke. He had seemed so old and she was so inexperienced; of course if he had been different, a little tender, if he had tried to make her love him, it might have been different. But like his ancestors he was crude and sensual; and he had no intentions of giving up his mistresses because he had acquired a wife – for the sole purpose of course of getting heirs. No one could deny that she had done her duty in that respect. She had given him first Ernest and then Albert; and he was pleased with the boys. And so was she. She loved them dearly, but she was too young and too pleasure-loving to be able to make them all she asked of life. Perhaps some women would have been able to – but not Louise. She hated her husband, who was parsimonious and, although he indulged his sensuality, could scarcely be called gay.

  She had tried very hard to be a good wife, but after Ernest’s birth she had begun to look round for some means of making life more amusing – and she had found it.

  Of course she should not be riding out alone: she should be with a party. He goes his own way, she told herself defiantly. Why shouldn’t I go mine? And in any case
how could she take a party to meet her lover?

  The Dowager Duchess of Saxe-Coburg went to her son’s apartments when she left the children. She was very uneasy.

  ‘I must have a talk with you, Ernest,’ she said, ‘about you and Louise.’

  The Duke’s expression hardened, ‘There is a good deal to be said on that matter,’ he agreed.

  ‘It is all so unfortunate.’

  ‘I believe that I am on the verge of discovery.’

  ‘So these rumours …’

  ‘Of her misconduct? Yes, I believe them to be true. I am having her watched.’

  ‘And you suspect that someone here is her paramour?’

  He nodded. ‘Szymborski.’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Well, he’s a handsome fellow.’

  ‘Is he Jewish?’

  The Duke nodded.

  ‘Oh, Ernest, and how long do you think this can possibly have been going on?’

  ‘That’s what I intend to find out. I suspect that she had been unfaithful before Albert was born.’

  ‘Ernest! This could have terrible implications.’

  ‘Oh, I believe Albert to be mine.’

  ‘It could not be otherwise. But it is criminal of her.’

  ‘I agree with you. That is why I am determined to bring the matter to a head.’

  ‘She was always frivolous and she is little more than a girl now. Ernest, what will you do?’

  ‘It remains to be seen. So much will depend on what we discover.’

  ‘If there were other children …’

  ‘I know you are thinking that we could not be sure that I was their father. Even so …’

  ‘No, don’t say it. Don’t even think it. Ernest is you in miniature and I am convinced that darling little Albert is your son.’

  ‘I feel so, too. But how could I be sure of any others?’

  ‘It is a scandalous situation.’

  ‘And will become more so.’

  ‘Does Leopold know?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘He will be horrified.’

  The Duke felt faintly resentful. His brother Leopold was his mother’s favourite son and regarded in the family as something of an oracle since he had succeeded in marrying the Princess Charlotte which, had she lived, would have meant that he was the husband of the Queen of one of the most important countries in the world – very different from the little dukedoms and principalities of Germany. But Leopold was far too ready to interfere in family matters. It was not as though he were an elder son either. Fortunately he was in England where he was paid a good income even though his position there was somewhat invidious. King George IV had never liked him and had not wanted him as a son-in-law. But Leopold was so good-looking and clever that Charlotte had insisted on marrying him, and by accounts – Leopold’s at any rate – she had been so enamoured of him that he had easily been able to subdue her will to his. What a glorious future it would have been for Leopold – and the house of Saxe-Coburg – if Charlotte had lived to be Queen.