With Victoria’s Blessing. Mary Nichols

      With Victoria’s Blessing

      Mary Nichols

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, 1840

      Preparations for the young Queen Victoria’s wedding have thrown all of London into a frenzy—but for Lady Emily Sumner, her own marital dilemmas eclipse all the excitement!

      Forbidden to marry her beloved Lieutenant Richard Lawrence by her strict, status-conscious mama, Emily’s chance at wedded bliss seems out of reach… But as Maid of Honour to the Queen, Emily discovers she has a secret weapon—royal approval! And with Queen Victoria’s blessing, surely Emily’s happy ending can’t be too far behind…?

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Author Note

      About the Author

      Chapter One

      Lady Emily Sumner, only daughter of the Earl and Countess of Lynne, was hurrying down Park Lane, accompanied by Margaret, her companion. She was in great haste because she had arranged to meet Richard at Hyde Park Corner and she could not wait to see him again. It was only three days since she had last seen him, but it seemed an age.

      ‘Oh, please don’t dawdle,’ she said when Margaret appeared to be holding back. ‘He might not wait for me.’

      ‘He is not the man you thought he was if he cannot wait a few minutes.’ Margaret had remonstrated with her about the folly of meeting a gentleman in such a way, and if the countess ever found out about it they would both be in trouble, but Emily was too enamoured of her lieutenant to take any notice of her.

      It was fortunate for Emily that the countess was away from home. She was one of Queen Victoria’s Ladies of the Bedchamber, which meant she had to take her turn to be in attendance on the queen night and day for a month at a time. The countess dared not absent herself, with the result that her husband and daughter had been sadly neglected.

      ‘I did not know the streets would be so crowded, or I would have set out earlier,’ Emily said. ‘Every day it gets worse.’

      ‘Of course it does, the royal wedding is only just over two weeks away.’

      No one could remember when a reigning queen had married before, if indeed it had ever happened, and the excitement was building to a crescendo. The little queen was popular with the people after they had been ruled by the Hanoverian George for so long. Her father, the Duke of Kent, had died when she was a baby and she had succeeded her uncle, William IV. She was a very young queen and tiny too, but, according to gossip, one who had a mind of her own and was very aware of her exalted position.

      The question of a suitable husband for her had been muted some time before her succession and several suitors brought to England for her inspection, including her first cousin, Francis Charles Augustus Albert Emanuel of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, who was known simply as Albert, whom she had chosen on a second visit to England after her accession. They were to be married on Saturday, the tenth of February.

      The populace were not so sure about the bridegroom. He wasn’t English, for a start, and from what they had seen of him on his two visits he had seemed stiff and unsmiling. Surely the Queen of England deserved a husband of a higher rank than the son of a German duke? Notwithstanding their doubts, the citizens of London were being joined by visitors from far and wide flocking to the capital in huge numbers, intending the royal wedding would be a day to remember. Flags and bunting and pictures of the royal couple were on display everywhere and shops were full of souvenirs.

      There was a string of empty carriages being driven down Park Lane at walking pace surrounded by a troop of cavalry rehearsing their part in the queen’s procession and it had attracted a crowd that blocked the walkway. By dint of much pushing, they reached Hyde Park Corner and waited for the procession to pass before crossing the road to the park gate.

      ‘There he is!’ Emily spotted Richard standing beneath a tree, tall and splendid in his naval uniform. He had been watching the troops but, sensing her nearness, turned towards her. She dashed forward and then stopped a few feet from him. Was she being too eager, too forward? Should she behave more coolly? But how could she when he was smiling at her like that, melting her insides?

      He doffed his hat and bowed to her. ‘My lady, you came, then?’

      ‘Did you think I would not?’

      ‘I wondered if perhaps your mama would keep you at home, considering the crowds.’

      ‘Mama is still away from home and will be until after the wedding, but she would not have stopped me. I said I would be here and here I am.’

      They were hemmed in by the crowd but it meant they could stand close together and no one would think anything of it. It was exciting just to be there with him, watching, but hardly seeing, what was going on around her. Her mind was on the man beside her to the exclusion of all else.

      She had first met Richard at Constance Anderton’s coming-out ball. Constance was two years younger than Emily, who had come out in the year of Victoria’s coronation two years before, but they had known each other all their lives. Their fathers’ country estates were close enough for easy visiting and the girls had often enjoyed outings together. Both families were in London in the build-up to the wedding.

      He had been presented to her by Constance’s brother, Frederick, and had asked her to dance, bowing over her with his hand out to raise her from her chair, the warmth of his smile seeming to reach out to her and envelop her in a rosy glow of pure joy. Her mother would undoubtedly say you cannot fall in love on sight, but she had. She had melted inside and her legs had become all wobbly as she rose to dance with him. It was the most glorious, the most wonderful, moment of her whole life. She could not believe that brief dance was all she would see of him; they were destined to meet again and, if they did not, she would have to give destiny a helping hand.

      But fate was on their side. They had met again at Lady Framlingham’s soirée and he had crossed the room to speak to her, bowing over her and asking how she did. ‘Lieutenant, I did not think to see you here,’ she said, delighted that he remembered her. ‘Are you on leave?’

      ‘Yes, while my ship, the Ariel, is being readied to fetch Prince Albert from Calais to his wedding.’

      ‘The Ariel. What kind of ship is that?’

      ‘A wooden-sided paddle steamer.’

      ‘A steamer! How exciting. It must be very different from a sailing vessel.’

      ‘Yes. It does not have to rely on wind and tide, but I think there is nothing more beautiful than a sailing ship in full canvas.’

      ‘I believe you must be a romantic, Lieutenant.’

      He smiled. ‘I suppose I must be.’

      ‘And do you like life in the navy?’

      ‘Oh, yes. I always wanted to go to sea, even as a small boy. We had an old rowing boat on the river near my home and I would put on a tricorne hat made of newspaper and pretend to be an admiral commanding a battle. I had no siblings so I recruited the village children for my crew. Some of them had to be the enemy, of course.’

      ‘Did they mind that?’

      He chuckled. ‘No. Our cook always supplied me with ample provisions and I shared them out.’

      ‘It sounds as if you had