Page 29 of From London, With Love
Alexandra’s smile faded as she looked up at her friend. “I see you’re using my goddaughter against me.”
“Nonsense,” Mina replied. “It’s a lovely day, and as your dearest friend, I’ve long been granted the run of the grounds here at Kensington. It was mere happenstance that we came across you.”
“I’ve only just forgiven you,” she replied tartly.
Mina clasped her hands in the kite’s strings. “Excellent. I thought you were still avoiding me.”
Alexandra turned away. “You presume too much.”
“Always.” Turning into the wind, her friend eased the kite out several lengths, then caught the string when it suddenly soared. “Here, Maddie-love. Make sure you stay away from the trees. I absolutely refuse to be climbing one today.”
“Yes, Mama.” Madeleine beamed at the pair of them as she accepted the string. The kite almost hauled her off her feet, but she used her blue blood strength to rein it in. Any normal child would have most likely fallen flat on their face.
“She looks like she’s grown three inches,” Alexandra murmured, as the little girl dashed across the grass, her kite pinwheeling through the sky.
Mina’s smile slipped. “We’ve managed to find a formula that sustains her. Malloryn suggested it, actually. One of his Rogues discovered a protein solution that a blue blood can survive upon without being forced to drink blood.”
The little girl had been born with the craving virus, but refused to drink blood. Alexandra couldn’t say she blamed her, though poor Maddie had been sickly for most of her first year and cried incessantly until her parents realized she needed more than a wet nurse.
It was becoming a common affliction as more and more children were being born to blue blood parents—or to be more particular, blue blood mothers. Once upon a time, the Echelon had insisted only males be offered the rites that infected them with the craving, but with more and more women succumbing to the virus, they’d had to deal with this new problem that had arisen.
“It’s a relief, I must admit.” Mina fell into step beside her, and for once, her cool reserve faded. “There’s nothing worse than not knowing how to help your child.” Her face suddenly blanched. “I’m so sorry, Alexa. That was inconsiderate.”
Alexandra turned away. “You didn’t mean it.”
“I know. But I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
She watched little Madeleine curtsy to one of the gardeners. Maddie had her mother’s auburn curls and dark eyes, but her smile was pure mischief, just like her father’s.
A familiar pang of longing swept through her.
Edward would have been almost seven by now. She’d barely had a chance to see him before they’d taken him away, but he’d worn a wealth of thick dark hair—just like hers—and though his eyes had been forever closed, his little bow mouth had been all hers too. There’d been none of his father in him.
A hand reached for hers, and Alexandra swallowed as Mina squeezed. “He was a beautiful little boy.”
“He was,” she whispered. It never became easier to speak of it, but doing so kept the memory alive. “I miss him so much. He would have loved to play in these gardens.”
“You should have a plaque erected here.”
Alexandra released a slow breath. “Do you think so?”
“Beneath those trees,” her friend replied, pointing to a shady corner. “And you can sit there when you want to visit with him. I can come with you, and Maddie can bring her kite.”
She nodded briefly. “Thank you. That’s a lovely idea. I’ll talk to the head gardener.”
They strolled along the path, both lost in silence. Sometimes she hated how her loss caused so many silences. Only Mina would dare speak of it with her, and she couldn’t tell her dearest friend how much that meant to her.
Instantly, she forgave her for the vote against her interests.
“Are you growing weary of balls yet?” Mina asked.
“I’m growing weary of pretending to smile at some ill-conceived attempt at humor.”
A laugh escaped the duchess. “Then don’t. They’re here to woo you. Not you them.”
“I’m trying not to insult a foreign prince,” she replied dryly. “England has enough enemies within, thank you very much.”
“And have you any preferences?” her friend asked.
