27 November 1837

"The Right Honourable Lord Melbourne."

Victoria flashed a broad grin as the door opened. She stood up from the piano where she'd been plunking out some Mozart, and she rushed towards the door. In strode Lord Melbourne, who gave a respectful obeisance and looked serious. Victoria felt her smile fade a little. She'd become somewhat smitten with Melbourne in the four months since she'd become Queen. He was always giving her advice, always attending to her so that she didn't embarrass herself. He was so helpful, she thought, and more than that, he was more than a little charming and handsome. But now he walked into the room with a sombre look on his face, and Victoria scowled.

"Has something happened?" she asked. Melbourne licked his bottom lip and seemed thoughtful.

"I have come to report to you that knighting Sir Moses Montefiore was exceedingly wise. You have endeared yourself to the Jewish people of England, Your Majesty."

Victoria chewed her lip a little and frowned deeply. "This is happy news. But you do not seem so happy."

Melbourne was silent for a long moment, and then he finally murmured, "Today is a difficult anniversary for me, Ma'am."

"Oh." Victoria shifted on her feet and folded her hands in front of her. "May I ask… may I ask what occurred on this date?"

"One year ago, my son George Augustus died, Ma'am."

"Oh," Victoria whispered again. She gulped hard and blinked, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "Your son… he was unwell, wasn't he?"

"He was," Melbourne confirmed, clasping his hands together behind his back. He met Victoria's eyes and said, "He was epileptic and could hardly speak, could not feed himself. We could have sent him to a residence, Caro and I, but instead we kept him at home. I am glad for that. Glad to have had twenty-nine years with him."

"Lord M," breathed Victoria, "I am so very sorry to hear of this sad occasion. Even sorrier to know that your son had such difficulty in life."

"In any case, Ma'am, I came to discuss a knighthood, not my own personal…" Melbourne trailed off. Victoria walked over to him and reached for his elbow. She touched gently at his sleeve and whispered,

"I am very sorry."

He met her eyes and shook his head. "Mortality touches all of us, Ma'am. I wish for you a very long life."

"You won't stay for dinner tonight, then?" Victoria asked, and Melbourne gulped.

"With your permission, I shall decline the invitation for tonight. It is, as I said, a difficult day."

"You are too good a man for this pain," Victoria told him. He scoffed and shook his head, saying,

"Ma'am, I am many things. A good man is not one of them."

"I declare you to be my staunchest ally and my dearest friend," Victoria protested, "and I say that you have not earned this torment."

"Well. Whether I deserved it or not, my son left me to find solace among the angels," Melbourne said. He hung his head then and seemed like he was on the verge of tears. Victoria stroked at his arm, very much on instinct, and she whispered,

"I wish happiness for you, Lord M."

"Being in your company these last few months has brought me great happiness, Ma'am," said Melbourne softly. Victoria breathed in, a long seethe through her nose, and she said,

"I have been happy, too. Because of you."

"Ma'am." Melbourne took a little step back from her, and when he raised his eyes, they were rimmed red. "I only wanted to tell you about Sir Moses Montefiore."

"Well, you've told me," Victoria said. "Will you listen to me play the piano for a little while?"

"I would like that," Melbourne said. He smirked just a little bit and asked, "Will you play something happy?"

"Something happy." Victoria nodded stoutly and walked back to the piano. She sank onto the bench, and then Melbourne sat in an armchair facing the piano. He leaned forward where he sat, his elbows on his knees and his hands folded. Victoria smiled weakly at him and put her fingers to the keys. She took a steadying breath and began to play Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring by Bach.

One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three. It had a steady beat, and her fingers moved expertly through the Baroque piece. She looked up after about fifteen measures and met Lord Melbourne's eyes, seeing warmth in them. He smiled a little at her and nodded, and Victoria played more strongly through the rest of the piece. By the time she'd finished, Melbourne was smiling more broadly, and when she played the final notes, he applauded her. She rose, so he flew to his feet and stepped closer to her.

"That was perfectly done, Ma'am, and brought me great solace," Melbourne told her. "Thank you most sincerely for that."

"I want only for you to be happy, Lord M." Victoria stared up at him, and she remembered what he'd done for her in the past few months. He'd saved her from so many instances of humiliation; he'd instructed her and had counseled her. He had become so much. He had become everything.

"Ma'am," he said quietly, and Victoria blinked.

"I want you to be happy," she said again, and his throat bobbed. He nodded.

"You make me happy, Ma'am. I could have been desolate today, but I've just heard you play the piano, and I've seen your face, and so I am happy. I am… I am happy."

"Lord M." Victoria took another step towards him and sighed, her breath quivering terribly in her lungs. "You have made these last months not only bearable, but pleasurable. I am so grateful to you."

"I shall be here for you through your Coronation next summer, Ma'am," Melbourne promised her, "and I shall be here after that."

"You won't abandon me?" Victoria confirmed, and Melbourne tipped his head.

"I do many things, Ma'am. I do not frequently abandon those for whom I care."

She knew he was talking about his son again, and about his wife Caroline, who had betrayed him. He'd not left her, even when she'd made him look so foolish. He'd kept his epileptic, invalid son close. He was loyal, Lord Melbourne. He was loyal to Victoria, too.

"You are a good man," Victoria said. "You may not believe it, but I believe it. I believe you are a very good man, Lord M."

She took another step towards him, and he seemed to tense up a little. She looked down and noticed the splatter of mud on his boots.

"You rode here on horseback," she noted. "You rushed here from Dover House to tell me that I had done well to knight a Jewish man. Such urgency, Lord M."

"The urgency," he whispered, sounding a little helpless, "was that I needed to see the face of my monarch on a day like today."

"The face of your monarch," Victoria repeated softly. Melbourne blinked a few times and let his lips fall open.

"I needed to see you, Ma'am. I was somewhat disconsolate, and I refused to lose myself to my grief. I needed to remind myself of my future. Of your future. Of the future of this nation."

"You rode here on horseback from Dover House because you needed to see me?" Victoria tipped her head, smiling just a little. Melbourne nodded. Victoria took a step closer. She was so close now, close enough to smell leather and old books on him. He was warm from here, and Victoria impulsively reached up to plant a hand upon his chest. He covered her hand with his and shook his head.

"Not like that, Ma'am."

She felt the sting of his rejection. She wanted him, she thought. She'd become enamoured with him over these last months. She wanted to feel his touch. She wasn't certain exactly what she craved from him, but she knew it was him that she wanted. And here he was, telling her no.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, and Melbourne licked his lips again as he squeezed at her hand. He pulled her hand from his chest and brushed his thumb over her palm, making Victoria shiver.

"I ought to go," he said quietly. "I only came -"

"To tell me about Sir Moses Montefiore," Victoria nodded. "And because it is a terrible day."

He curled up half his mouth, but the partial smile did not come close to reaching his jade eyes. He shook his head and said,

"It has not been such a terrible day, after all. You play the piano beautifully."

She realised then that they hadn't released one another's hands, and she curled her fingers against the back of his hand. His thumb moved again, and Victoria finally whispered,

"Just once."

"Once what, Ma'am?" asked Melbourne, and his pale eyes flashed. Victoria finally let go of his hand, reaching up and taking his jaw gently in her fingers. She leaned up onto her tiptoes, as far as she could manage, and she pulled his face down just a little to close the gap. He let her do it; he did not resist. And when she pressed her lips to his, their breath mingled, warm and swirling between the two of them. She kissed him again, so very softly, and she whispered onto his trembling mouth,

"You are a good man, Lord M. And I am sorry for your sadness."

She pulled back, and he looked stunned. His jaw squared, and he sucked in air hard through his nose. Then he mumbled, in a bit of a haze,

"I am suddenly far less miserable than when I woke this morning."

"And are you cross with me?" Victoria fretted, wondering if she'd gone and ruined everything. But Melbourne shook his head and said stoutly,

"No, Ma'am; I could never be cross with you. But I shall go now."

He bowed respectfully to her and started to back out of the room, and as he neared the door, Victoria called to him,

"Come to dinner, will you?"

He paused and looked at her for a very long moment. And then he nodded, and he said softly,

"I'll be there, Ma'am."

The door opened, and Melbourne slipped out, and the door shut again, leaving Victoria breathless and alone.

Author's Note: I have half a mind to turn this into a multi-chapter story and get straight back into writing Vicbourne! Haha. In any case, thank you so much for reading and reviewing.