Albert is literally a prince among men. He saves his wife from a shooter, then invents a bullet-proof umbrella because she insists on going out again. The only shame is that there are three people in this marriage: Victoria, Albert and Peele.
Seriously, Club-Foot?
Ringlets are not a good look for you, Harriet.
Sorry, Baroness. You are so stuck in England.
Don't call Scotland England, Albert. That's a big no-no.
Oy, the closet gays.
The Duke of Athol has an army, even today.
Cock-a-leekie is yummy.
The servants are having way more fun. Could this poet be more depressing?
Ha, Victoria elbowed her husband to start the clapping. Love it.
I guess there will be no sexytimes in Scotland for these two...Okay, I was wrong. Turns out bagpipes make Victoria hot.
Fog can be useful. Victoria looks gorgeous with her hair down.
The duke is freaking out. Then again, who really wants to be known as the guy who lost the Queen in a forest?
Men never ask for directions, even two hundred years ago.
Heavy dresses and crossing a stream on a horse do not mix.
Someone is certainly the Duchess of Sensitivity. Not.
The crofters have no idea who they have in their house.
Skerrett deserves a little fun.
Haha! Albert's her secretary at the "factory"!
Wealth and a palace are not all they are cracked up to be. Sometimes it's nice to learn how to darn a sock.
Idiot soldier. You rode all over the Highlands looking for her, and you don't even know what she looks like?
Now that is a hair ornament!
The ceilidh is definitely more fun.
Never go to Culloden, Duke. You will be struck by lightning.
Ms. Cook is okay with the gay.
Back to real life.
Aww. At least Francatelli filleted the fish for them.
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