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his desires as early as possible.
    ‘This matter of a secretary. Has Your Majesty anyone in mind for the post?’
    ‘I have not given the matter any thought yet.’
    ‘I have been your friend as much as that of your uncle. Your Majesty could trust me. Do you not think so?’
    She was direct. She had never liked innuendo. ‘Are you suggesting yourself for the post, Baron?’
    ‘That was in my mind,’ said the Baron.
    She was on the point of telling him that of course he must be her secretary. He was her dear friend and beloved Uncle Leopold doted on him and trusted him. Who better than Stockmar? But wait. She was no longer the impetuous Princess Victoria. She was the Queen of England. The decisions she made now were important.
    ‘I will consider it,’ she said.
    Expecting immediate acquiescence, the Baron was dismayed. He had intended to get her promise before it became a matter for the Government; and now she, who had been his admiring pupil, and had loved and respected him because her Uncle Leopold had wished her to, was telling him that she would consider it.
    She had finished her breakfast. She knew he would understand but she had some letters to write and the Prime Minister was calling shortly. Stockmar could only bow and retire. The Queen had spoken.
    20th June 1839 Half past eight a.m.
‘Dearest most beloved Uncle,’ wrote the Queen, ‘Two words only to tell you that my poor Uncle, the King, expired this morning at twelve minutes past two. The melancholy news was brought to me by Lord Conyngham and the Archbishop of Canterbury at six. I expect Lord Melbourne almost immediately and I shall hold a Council at eleven. Ever my beloved Uncle your devoted and attached niece,
Victoria R.’
    What a comfort, she thought as she sealed the letter, to know that dear Uncle Leopold was there to guide her.
    And now a word to her half sister, dear Feodora, who in her German castle would be so happy to have a note from her on this day. How Victoria had loved her sister when they were together in Kensington and how heartbroken she had been when darling Feddy had married and gone away! They had only their letters to comfort each other for their absence – so she must write and tell her that she was now the Queen.
    She was sealing the letters when Lord Melbourne arrived.
    ‘I will receive him as I intend to receive all my ministers … alone .’ she said.
    As soon as he came into the room she was aware of a lifting of her spirits. He was tall and very good-looking and because of the solemnity of the occasion he was in Court dress. She noticed the hair beginning to whiten at the temples, the thick dark eyebrows, the sensitive lips. He bowed and as she gave him her hand to kiss and he murmured ‘Your Majesty’, she saw that his eyes filled with tears and she was won immediately by those tears. She thought: He is beautiful and more than beautiful, he is good .
    ‘Your Majesty is kind to receive me at such an early hour.’ His eyes were expressing admiration, and she felt herself blushing. How she wished she could conquer that ridiculous childish habit – so absurd in a queen .
    ‘I wish to tell you, Lord Melbourne, that it is my intention to retain you and the rest of the present Ministry at the head of affairs.’
    He bowed his head, and how gracefully he did it. She was comparing him with Sir John Conroy. It was the contrast which struck her so forcibly. There could not be two men less alike.
    ‘And I am sure,’ she said warmly, ‘that it could not be in better hands.’
    ‘Your Majesty is gracious,’ he said, with the most beautiful smile which conveyed that while he was every bit as respectful as any subject could be to his Queen, he was secretly aware of her youth and inexperience and was ready to place himself entirely at her service. How fortunate I am, she thought, to have such a man at the head of affairs. My Prime Minister!
    ‘I have prepared the Declaration which Your Majesty will read to the Council. Would