The Queen and Lord M Read Online Free

any case he had chosen this way.
    To Leopold he had been a faithful servant; but more than that – he was a king-maker. Ever since he had come to England at the time of Leopold’s marriage to the Princess Charlotte he had had a hand in government. Leopold had quickly acknowledged his doctor’s usefulness, for with his help, this clever, faintly hypocritical hypochondriac (so was Stockmar and this gave them an added interest in common) had become a power in Europe. A young son of the house of Saxe-Coburg, Leopold had somehow succeeded in marrying members of his family into most of the royal houses of Europe. But for a cruel fate he would have been ruling England now, for there was no doubt that the Princess Charlotte had doted on him and would have accepted his rule in everything. But Charlotte had died and Leopold would now rule through Victoria; for he and Stockmar had decided on a husband for her. Who but Prince Albert, Leopold’s nephew, who should be guided by Stockmar, through Leopold of course. His niece and nephew on the throne of England! It would not be quite as satisfactory to be the uncle of the Queen and her Prince Consort as it would have been to be the husband of a queen. But it was no use repining. Charlotte was dead. And to govern England through Victoria and Albert must be the next best thing.
    It was not only for political reasons that the Baron enjoyed his role. He was fond of Victoria. Indeed who could help being fond of such a warm-hearted, innocent girl. He remembered her as the child who had visited Claremont years ago, rather solemn for her years, passionately devoted to Uncle Leopold and therefore ready to love anyone whom Leopold commanded her to.
    ‘Dr Stockmar is a very dear friend of mine, my dearest child,’ Leopold had explained. ‘I want him to be yours too.’
    ‘He shall be, Uncle.’ The blue eyes brimmed over with love for Leopold and since Leopold commanded it, for Dr Stockmar too.
    ‘He is the best doctor in the world and more than that, he is my clever friend.’
    She believed it. She believed everything Leopold told her. One might have thought she was too pliable; but that was a mistake, as Stockmar had discovered on his return only a few weeks before. She had received him warmly. He had come from dearest Uncle Leopold and therefore was welcome. She remembered him years ago at Claremont and she was delighted to have him back.
    He had told her that her uncle had asked him to come to Kensington because he thought his old friend might be of use to her.
    ‘Dear Uncle Leopold,’ she had said, ‘is so careful of me.’
    She had charm and when she was animated she was almost pretty; at other times she could be quite plain and rather homely; but she had such dignity in spite of her small stature that Stockmar could write to Leopold that he had every confidence in her.
    Now she was on the brink of becoming Queen. A pity, thought Stockmar, that she was so young. Yet youth was appealing and he had noticed that the people liked her. What a change from the old King who was so undignified and who was called ‘Pineapple Head’ in some of the less respectable papers, and one only had to look at the King to be aware of the resemblance between his head and that fruit. And different, too, from the previous King, who had grown obese and upset his people by holding aloof from them.
    ‘There is certainly not much competition from the Uncles,’ wrote Stockmar, ‘and she is so innocent and fresh, so easily moved to tears, that the people will love that.’
    There was surely no monarch more appealing than a young female one – particularly after a succession of unattractive men.
    It was well worth while, thought Stockmar, although the dampness of the climate did not agree with him and he suffered from rheumatic pains and a hundred mysterious ailments which he as a medical man – for it was as such that he had begun his career – could imagine were indications of dire diseases. And to think