Page 111 of A Queen's Match
Nicholas braced his arms beneath her and lifted her into the air, spinning her around and around so that her skirts belled out around her.
“You mean it?” he exclaimed, covering her face with kisses.
“Yes!” Alix’s smile mirrored his own, and she repeated the word over and over again, for the sheer joy of saying it. “Yes, yes, I will marry you!”
The tapers flickered, making Nicholas’s smile shimmer; it was as if the candles themselves were celebratory. Alix couldn’t help thinking that her mother was present. She couldfeelAlice here, as surely as if her mother’s arms were wrapped around her.
Her mother was here, and Nicholas was here; and in this moment, Alix felt utterly surrounded by love.
Chapter Forty-One
May
May of Teck still hatedweddings.
Or at least, she regretted accepting the invitation to this one. The ducal estate in Darmstadt was decidedly too small for so many guests—though no one else seemed to mind the cramped ballroom, since they kept lining up for jostled, sweaty dancing.
What had Ducky been thinking, choosing Ernie when she could have had a future king? There was simply no understanding some people.
But the real reason for May’s irritation was standing a few feet away.
George had stayed dutifully near her, though he was currently talking to the widowed—and very beautiful—Crown Princess of Austria. May knew he wasn’t actually flirting; he was just expressing sympathies for the death of Stéphanie’s husband, but still. Couldn’t he pay a fraction of that attention toher?
When Queen Victoria had asked if she and George would like to attend this wedding—chaperoned by Uncle Bertie, of course, since they weren’t married—May had jumped at the chance. A trip might be just what she and George needed. Surely he couldn’t ignore her for all those hours of travel, together onboard ships or on railway cars.
And yet he did. He was invariably, perfectly polite: he sat next to May at dinners, strolled around the deck of the ship with her, held out his arm to accompany her into a party. But he had become a quiet, withdrawn version of himself. Nothing like the George who used to confess his daydreams with a shy smile.
May almost wished he were cruel. At least she knew what to do with cruelty, could fight back against it. This studied indifference cut her to the quick.
A prickle of awareness traced down May’s spine. She glanced up—and her eyes met those of Hélène d’Orléans.
Yet another reason she shouldn’t have come. If May had known her enemy would show up, she would have let George and Bertie handle this wedding on their own.
Still holding May’s gaze, Hélène tilted her head in unmistakable invitation, then walked out into the corridor.
May could have ignored her, of course. But a contrary part of her itched for this confrontation. So she followed Hélène down the hall, to a room filled with armor, where bayonets and swords hung on the wall. How appropriate.
Hélène placed a palm on the back of an armchair, studying May through narrowed eyes. “My condolences to George. Dare I ask how you trickedanotherprince into proposing?”
“Yes, George and I are engaged,” May said evenly. “Don’t expect a wedding invitation.”
Hélène scoffed. “I wouldn’t dream of attending such a farce of a wedding.”
Before May could reply, a third figure entered the room. “Hélène? I saw you marching off, and you looked so angry,”Alix began—then she caught sight of May, and her expression hardened. “Oh. It’s you.”
“It’s me,” May echoed, slightly sarcastic.
“Alix!” Hélène took a step forward. “What happened with you and Nicholas? Are you…”
Alix burst into a smile. “We’re engaged.”
Well, May thought, there seemed to be a lot of engagements happening lately.
“Oh, I’m so glad!” Hélène pulled Alix into a fierce hug, and the two women stood there, embracing like sisters. They seemed to have forgotten that May was in the room at all.
May watched them with confusion, and something like regret, or perhaps yearning.
She cleared her throat, suddenly exhausted. “Hélène. Did you want something, or shall I return to the party?”
