Victoria Rebels by Carolyn Meyer

Author:Carolyn Meyer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster BFYR

The mood at Kensington did not improve. I would not speak to Mamma or to Charles. We received word that King William’s health had been failing. Later we learned that he was rallying. Then, a week before my birthday, I was summoned to my mother’s sitting room. Mamma and Sir John waited with Francis Conyngham, lord chamberlain and senior official of the king’s household. Lord Conyngham looked VERY ill at ease.

“Your highness,” he said, “I have a letter addressed to you from his majesty, King William.” He added with peculiar emphasis, “The king desires that it be handed to you and to no other.”

“Very well. I thank you, Lord Conyngham.” I glanced at Mamma and Sir John, wondering why they were here at all.

“Sir John Conroy insists that your mother be present when you read the letter,” the lord chamberlain explained uncomfortably, and handed me the letter.

I broke the seal. In a weak and unsteady hand King William wrote that he had asked Parliament to grant me the sum of ten thousand pounds a year for me to do with as I wished, commencing on the day I came of age. I would have the right to appoint my own keeper of the Privy Purse to oversee this considerable sum. In addition, I had the right to appoint the members of my own household.

This letter meant that in just seven days, the twenty-fourth of May, my eighteenth birthday, I would indeed be my own mistress, able to choose my own ladies and pick my own servants. I could barely suppress a smile.

“The letter, please, Victoria,” Mamma said, reaching for it.

I clutched the letter to my chest, shaking my head. Sir John took one menacing step toward me. “Give the letter to your mother, Victoria.”

Gritting my teeth and throwing Sir John a scornful look, I did as I was ordered.

Mamma’s face darkened as she read it. “This is an outrage!” she cried.

Sir John turned to the lord chamberlain, who waited stiffly. “Our thanks to you, Lord Conyngham, for delivering this letter to the princess. Kindly carry expressions of our gratitude to his majesty, King William.”

The lord chamberlain cast me a long and, I thought, sympathetic look, bowed, and left the room. The door had scarcely closed behind him before the battle began.

“I am utterly humiliated,” Mamma wailed. “The king obviously intends to insult me yet again, and he has succeeded. But I mean to tell you, Victoria, that it is not possible for you to be given such a sum of money for your own uses! You are not prepared to handle it discreetly—”

“I am to have a keeper of the Privy Purse to administer it, Mamma,” I said, struggling to control my temper. I wanted to lash out at her but felt that nothing would be gained. “The king offers Sir Benjamin Stephenson.” I extended my hand for the letter, in order to point it out.

“A thoroughly detestable man!” Mamma exclaimed, snatching the letter out of my reach.

Struggling to maintain calm, I suggested my tutor, Mr.

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