The Queen Must Die Page 8

  ‘That is a wise idea, Mr MacKenzie,’ the foreigner replied. ‘It’s our job to make the things as easy as can be for you, right, comrades? But a word of advice, sir: our leader is no matter for the jokes. He has powers and connections of which you know naught. We take our profit from him, but keep the respectful distance. I suggest you do the same. Now we must work. Morning is almost upon us, and I believe you will need to preside over breakfast in the servants’ hall.’

  ‘The upper servants’ hall,’ Mr MacKenzie corrected him. ‘I’ll help you shift some of this stuff, for which I will want payment, in advance. I have some debts of honour to settle.’ The door to the storage room began to swing open. James grabbed some things from the nearest shelf and shoved Alice and Katie back through the low door, into the not-so-secret passageway.

  ‘Honour,’ gasped Alice. ‘How can he speak of honour?’

  ‘Come on. Let’s go,’ James tugged at her arm.

  Alice seemed both hurt and angry. ‘Mr MacKenzie? How could he? Really! Oh, that puffed-up, red-faced, stealing – he’s as bloated and rotten on the inside as he is on the outside. I’ve half a mind to confront him this very moment.’

  James pushed her down the passage and kept pushing her until she was up the ladder and into the relative safety of the nursery. ‘That’s right; you go on back there and have your say. I’m sure the nice gentlemen with him will welcome such a visitor with great gallantry.’

  When Alice flared up, it was a sight worth seeing. She turned on James, cheeks flushed, eyes emitting sparks. ‘You have pushed and shoved me through doors, up ladders and down corridors all night, Jamie O’Reilly. I am tired of the pushing and shoving – but I am even more tired of your sarcasm. You really do seem to have forgotten to whom you are speaking. I suggest you—’

  Katie cut across her friend, for once she would have to be the peace-maker. ‘Come on, guys. Even I know this isn’t the time or place for a scene. James, it’s not like you to be sarky with Alice, this MacKenzie stuff has been a shock to her system. And Alice – isn’t Leopold waiting for you?’

  At the sound of her brother’s name, all of Alice’s anger was replaced by remorse. ‘Oh, poor Leo – he’s probably building up to a tantrum waiting for me. Did we get any of the food in that storeroom? And I need to find some nice, calming book.’

  James handed her a jar of jam and she ran through the door into Leopold’s sickroom.

  Katie had been famished – but sitting behind the screen in the schoolroom, sharing a strange meal of cheese and candied ginger with James, she didn’t have quite the appetite.

  ‘I know it’s a strange combination,’ said James, ‘but I had to grab what was at hand.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ Katie replied, ‘it’s MacKenzie. Is he up to what I think he is?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious? He’s skimming the Palace provisions and passing them on to a middle man.’

  ‘I know he’s doing that,’ said Katie. ‘But is he also involved in the kidnap attempt on Princess Alice? I’m really sure that I saw him in the courtyard the night of the kidnap, handing over the keys to the Palace. The two men with him – they had to be the kidnappers. I recognized their voices. And then, tonight, MacKenzie made that strange comment: ‘and there is that other thing’ – what other thing? Is he trying to harm, even kill the Royal Family? And what about Baroness Lehzen? Is she involved? She loves the Queen, but her hatred of Prince Albert, and the children…’

  Katie pushed the cheese away and walked over to the window. She could see the faint glow of dawn, struggling through another rain-soaked sky. So much evil seemed so close. ‘It’s kind of frightening,’ she admitted. ‘I’m here in the wrong time and I don’t know how to get out. I know what the future should be, but things don’t seem to happen the way I think they will. And James, I’ve been having these visions. I began seeing them in my own time, in New York City. It’s like, I’m not just travelling through time. There’s something stranger going on.’

  James snorted. ‘Even stranger?’

  ‘Yeah, I know. It sounds stupid. But there’s something else underneath it all. Something even weirder. I’ve seen Alice and DuQuelle and these two children in my own time – and now I’m seeing them here. I don’t know if they’re the good guys or the bad guys, except, that is, for you and Alice. It’s like there’s you, me and Alice on one side, and the rest of the world on the other.’ She stared out of the window for a long time. ‘But at least it’s the three of us now,’ she added. ‘I used to feel like it was just me – that everyone else was living this fun happy life, and I was all alone, like in a bubble, just watching. Then Alice came along, and it’s like she popped the bubble. I think that’s how you’re supposed to feel about a sister, or brother – that they’re on your side, always.’

  Families and relationships. James hated this kind of talk. He carefully moved the conversation back to his comfort zone – science. ‘That’s an interesting point about the visions,’ he observed. ‘So you were seeing the visions in your own time, New York, did you say? And now you are seeing the very same visions in a different time dimension, 1851 to be exact. Perhaps they are the channel, the road back – you might need to confront each of the visions, as in a quest or a medieval trial.’

  Katie was tired. Too much excitement had exhausted her. ‘Oh, James,’ she practically wailed, ‘I couldn’t confront Alice, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I feel…’

  James O’Reilly was growing desperately uncomfortable. Katie was talking about her feelings. Luckily it was her feelings for Princess Alice, but any moment it might be her feelings for him. At the thought of this terrible possibility, he began to sweat profusely. ‘It must be morning,’ he mumbled in a panic, ‘I have to go…’ and then an answering bustle from the corridor saved him.

  ‘Another day begins,’ James said, weak with relief. ‘I wonder if the Princess got back to her desk in time.’ Peeking over the screen they saw Alice bolt back into her seat, pulling the map and compass towards her. At the same time, the Baroness Lehzen finally managed to get the door open. With a bang she entered the room, trailed by Fräulein Bauer.

  ‘Look at you,’ said the Baroness, cracking a caraway seed between her teeth, ‘a disgrace to the blessed Queen. She was a tidy und obedient child, das Lammfromm.’ She turned to Fräulein Bauer. ‘Well, don’t just stand there, brush her hair and get the Princess into the clothing that does suit for the occasion.’

  Seeing the questioning look on Alice’s face, she took the ruler from the desk and rapped her knuckles. ‘You never will understand. The Prince Albert has recommended you to come to the presentation of the exhibition building that is being made for the Queen, the courtiers and the government. Why they would want you, I do not know, but what the Prince does request we must bow to.’

  Fräulein Bauer had been giving the Baroness quick, timid glances. She finally rallied the nerve to speak. ‘Forgive me, Baroness, but the Princess has had no breakfast, and no supper the night before. Perhaps now, shall I…’ Baroness Lehzen whipped around, the lace of her sleeve striking Fräulein Bauer in the face. For a moment Katie thought she would knock the other woman down.

  ‘This girl does not deserve the breakfast. She tells the falsehood, and the needlework, it is slattern. Now, brush the hair, harder! I will return for her in the ten minutes to come.’ Baroness Lehzen leaned towards Fräulein Bauer, and practically spat in her ear. ‘Fräulein you know your duty. When you are done here you must watch Mr MacKenzie.’

  The door slammed shut. ‘That woman really knows how to make an entrance and an exit,’ Katie thought. ‘Mimi could learn some stage presence from her.’ Forgetting her exhaustion, she turned to James and caught his hand. ‘This is going to be so cool. We’ll get to see the beginnings of the Great Exhibition first-hand. Let’s go.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ James replied, shaking her off, ‘absolutely. We’ll march down the hall together; all the guards at the end of the corridor will look the other way. The Quee
n herself will be fascinated to learn about your experiences with time travel – and you are certain to enjoy the rest of your life in a lunatic asylum.’

  Katie gave him a sharp shove. ‘We’re going to have to hide me,’ she said. ‘Come on, James, you’re supposed to be the brainy one – so find a way.’

  Chapter Seven

  The Crystal Palace

  Ten minutes later, Katie was in the Throne Room, crouching in a large lacquered Chinese chest along with the wood for the marble and gilt fireplace. ‘Let’s just hope some footman doesn’t decide to throw another log on to the fire,’ she whispered to James who was standing stiffly beside the chest.

  ‘Needs must,’ muttered James, ‘but they won’t put more wood on the fire. The Queen believes that cold is good for the health, and all the chimneys in Buckingham Palace smoke horribly, so they always keep the fires banked down. That’s why everyone shivers all the time.’

  Katie lifted the lid and had a peek around. The room was more than sixty feet long. The walls were hung in striped crimson satin with a white marble frieze running across the top. The ceiling was gilded with arms and armaments. At the far end of the room was an oversized arch, supported by two winged figures bearing garlands. Beneath it stood the thrones of the Queen and Prince Albert. ‘So homey and cosy,’ Katie remarked, ‘perfect for a family get-together.’

  ‘Oh, do pipe down,’ James snapped, ‘and get back in that box. You can see through the holes in the side. Shhhhhh, they’re coming.’

  The enormous double doors to the room opened and in walked the Queen, followed by Prince Albert and a mass of people. ‘Why, she’s pretty,’ thought Katie. ‘She isn’t the fat old black bombast of a Queen Victoria we see in old photographs – but young and pretty.’ Not that Mimi would have rated her. The Queen was very tiny and plump, with a round body, round arms and a round face. But her blue eyes were truly lovely, if slightly protruding. Her hair was soft and bright. ‘What makes her attractive… it must be that she’s so happy,’ Katie decided, watching the Queen take her husband’s arm and look up into his face. She wished she could get a better view of the Queen. Katie had a feeling she’d seen her before. Was she part of her visions too? Everything was so jumbled together, between the past and present. Katie couldn’t quite figure it out.

  Though the holes in the side of the Chinese chest were quite large, it still wasn’t a very good vantage point. People’s legs kept blocking her view. Finally she saw Alice coming through the doors, Baroness Lehzen holding her firmly by the elbow. Lehzen’s frown turned to smiles as she bobbed the ridiculous cap atop her high hairdo at the Queen. MacKenzie was there too, looking more like an overripe plum than ever. Katie noticed Fräulein Bauer close by MacKenzie, acting as Lehzen’s spy. Then Leopold was wheeled in, his chair pushed by his tutor, the Reverend Robinson Duckworth. Dr O’Reilly entered with other senior members of the household to stand at the back. Bernardo DuQuelle darted and wove his way through the crowd until he was standing close to Prince Albert. As the Queen and Prince Albert took their places on their thrones, a cluster of dark-coated men came into the room – ‘the representatives of the Royal Commission for the Exhibition of Manufacturing, Art, Design and Commerce…’ the announcement boomed through the room. ‘Lord John Russell… The Duke of Buccleuch… William Cubitt Esquire… The Rt Honourable Richard Cobden… The Rt Honourable Benjamin Disraeli…’

  Katie could do nothing but crouch in her hiding place. Each man came forward and bowed: deeply to the Queen, with a less rigorous bend to Prince Albert. Between the courtiers, the Royal Household and the Royal Commission the room became crowded. The doors opened again, and four footmen in powdered wigs and silk stockings entered, carrying the model of the exhibition hall. They were followed by a mild-featured man in a plain broadcloth frock coat; a sheaf of papers tucked under one arm. With his long stride and weatherbeaten face, he looked more like a farmer than an aristocrat. Some of the courtiers twittered at his abrupt bow. ‘Joseph Paxton Esq.’ rang out as he walked towards the royal couple. Prince Albert sprang forward and clasped his hand.

  ‘Ah Paxton, the man of the hour,’ he exclaimed, presenting him to the Queen. ‘This, my dear, is the man I told you about, the architect of this extraordinary building. Over two hundred drawings were submitted for the exhibition hall, none of which served the purpose. Until Paxton arrived with a doodle on a bit of blotting paper, and there it was, the perfect building to house our Great Exhibition.’

  ‘You have broken ground on the project, I believe.’ The Queen looked kindly at Paxton. If Albert admired this man, so would she. ‘And do you really think the project will be ready by May?’ She had a lovely voice.

  ‘More than ready Ma’am,’ Paxton replied. ‘We’ve completed many of the building parts away from the exhibition site, and now they’re ready to be erected in Hyde Park. When the exhibition is over, the building can be taken down with the same ease.’

  ‘It is the most cunning plan,’ Prince Albert added, ‘it is – how do you say – pre-fabricated – of very little expense and so easy to put up and take down.’

  ‘We have 2,000 men and 100 horses working on the project Ma’am,’ Paxton continued. ‘It will be done within these four months.’

  The Queen stood up and reached out her hand to Albert. Together they circled the model of the building. Katie couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, and couldn’t see much through the gaps in legs and frockcoats – but she did hear Paxton – his voice was decidedly rougher and louder – answering question after question from the Queen. ‘I estimate we will use almost 300,000 panes of glass in the end,’ he was saying, ‘reinforced by 4,500 tons of cast iron.’

  ‘It will collapse in the first windstorm of the season,’ Katie heard one courtier mutter to another. ‘It will end in catastrophe.’

  The Prime Minister moved forward and bowed to the Queen. Katie almost laughed aloud. Lord John Russell had to be the smallest grown man she had ever seen. He looked more like a doll than a prime minister, but this was countered by his great self-importance.

  ‘Ahem, please excuse my intrusion on this otherwise jubilant occasion, but there is one problem I wish to present to the Commission today, before the building may proceed. In Parliament there is great consternation about the elm trees.’

  ‘Elm trees?’

  ‘Yes, elm trees. Three of them. It seems that the site chosen for the exhibition hall in Hyde Park is also home to some of the most ancient and magnificent elm trees in the British Isles. They are the works of God, created over hundreds of years. To destroy them for the sake of a warehouse that will be taken down again within the year…’

  ‘It is not a warehouse,’ Paxton interrupted. Prime Minister or no Prime Minister, his beautiful glass building was not a warehouse.

  Prince Albert looked perplexed, but then his brow cleared and he nodded vigorously. ‘We will simply have to build around the elm trees,’ he decided. ‘If Mr Paxton can come up with his grand design in hours, he can most certainly redesign in minutes.’ Joseph Paxton caught the Prince’s enthusiasm. Taking the papers from under his arm, he smoothed them out on the table beside the model. Scanning them briefly, he too had a plan.

  ‘Yes, I know the trees, very large, three of them, but aligned quite tidily. If we move the axis of the building by 30 degrees and create a vaulted glass ceiling through the central transept, the building will encase the trees…’

  ‘There, Prime Minister, your problem is solved.’ Prince Albert and the Queen beamed with delight.

  Alice had managed to get away from Baroness Lehzen and was standing near James O’Reilly. Prince Albert turned in her direction. ‘And what does our baby think of this miracle building?’ Alice blushed, knowing that the entire court – and Jamie and Katie – had just heard her called ‘baby’, but she curtsied to her father and answered respectfully. ‘I think it looks like a palace out of a fairy tale – a glittering palace of crystal.’

  A murmur of approval ran through the room. T
he Prince clapped his hands. Even the Queen turned her gaze from Albert to smile fondly at her daughter.

  ‘You have caught it exactly, liebchen,’ he responded. ‘We will call it the Crystal Palace – as christened by the Princess Alice.’

  Looking around the room, Katie saw rows of smiling faces, with a few exceptions. Lehzen was decidedly nettled at the Dummkopf Alice’s cleverness. And Dr O’Reilly in the back of the room was less than pleased to see his son – supposedly hard at his lessons – standing coolly next to the Princess Alice. But the figure who most fascinated Katie was Bernardo DuQuelle. The red damask of the room turned his skin to ivory and his inky black hair fell in artful disarray. He was obviously not spellbound by the building of glass. Throwing his head back, he peered around the room and repeated his irritating gesture of sniffing the air. For a brief moment his gaze landed on Katie’s lacquered chest, but then he turned back towards Paxton. There was something about the way he stood, the hook of his nose in profile. Katie wondered. He was in her visions, and in the Palace, but also somewhere else. Suddenly she could see him swimming towards her, the dark figure in the river. She felt sure that it was Bernardo DuQuelle who had been her saviour the night of the kidnap.

  ‘James!’ Katie hissed, ‘Jamie!’ James was trying to listen to Paxton’s description of how a building of glass could be totally supported by slender iron arches. It was amazing. But Katie, as usual, had to interrupt. He could hear her clearly from inside the Chinese chest. If she didn’t stop, someone else might hear her too. ‘Jamie, I need to speak to Bernardo DuQuelle, he’s standing by the painting of the fat red guy,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t call me Jamie. And the fat red guy is George IV. Now be quiet.’

  ‘Whatever, Jamie, I mean James, this is important. I really have to talk to Bernardo DuQuelle.’