Page 37 of A Queen's Match
Since the moment he’d arrived in London, Alix had been too swept up in the joy of seeing him to question what they were doing. But now, the reality of their situation hit her as it hadn’t before.
She would never get permission to marry Nicholas. His parents would never look at her the way Vladimir had looked at Hélène.
Alix blinked as they pulled up to the yacht club. Sailors bounded toward their boat, tethering it to the dock, holding out a hand to help her and May ashore.
Eddy leapt out of the boat without a goodbye and marched with bold, angry strides up the lawn. Every line of his body screamed outrage and hurt.
Oh no. Alix wasn’t sure what he thought, exactly—did he assume that Hélène had left him for Nicholas? That she had seen a greater opportunity than Queen of England and leapt at it? Whatever conclusions he’d drawn, they were based on a misunderstanding.
Alix wasn’t sure what he was about to do, but she knew that she needed to stop him. Forget Hélène’s admonitions about keeping him in the dark; she would race after him, grab his shoulders, and tell him not to worry, that Hélène and Nicholas were just playacting.
That he and Hélène still had a shot, even if Alix was no longer sure that was true for her and Nicholas.
“Eddy!” Alix grabbed her white linen skirts in both handsand stumbled after him, ignoring the glances of fellow guests. “Eddy, wait!”
He paused, but not for Alix’s sake. He had reached their grandmother.
Queen Victoria was the most visible person on the whole shore, dressed as always in black, which was glaring amid the sea of festive summer whites. Guests spilled out of the clubhouse’s deck toward the water, clutching flutes of champagne or tumblers of whiskey despite the morning hour. Everyone wore airy blouses or cream-colored dresses, spotless white suits with matching top hats.
Alix watched as Eddy leaned over and murmured something in their grandmother’s ear. The queen looked at him in surprise and asked a question Alix couldn’t make out. Eddy nodded once, fiercely, then bowed a curt goodbye and started up the hill. He disappeared through one of the doors of the clubhouse, a clapboard structure with a gabled roof.
Alix hurried to follow. She couldn’t say why, but she felt like she needed to stop whatever action he’d just set in motion.
The clubhouse was empty; everyone had gone outside to watch the races. Alix wandered past a room with leather furniture and nautical flags on the walls. In one corner was an old wooden steering wheel, so big it looked like it had come from a pirate ship.
She found a corridor and turned, heading toward the telltale clatter of pots that signified a kitchen. The servers would know where to look, she thought; at the very least they could direct her to the bar. That’s where Eddy was headed, right? To get a drink?
Alix paused halfway down the hall. There was a singledoor to her right. At first glance she’d thought it was a closet, but she heard noises inside, so maybe it wasn’t a closet at all.
Alix threw open the door. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dimness and register what she was seeing.
It was indeed a closet, and her brother Ernie was inside—with their footman, Johann.
They were kissing.
Chapter Sixteen
May
That afternoon, after they hadreturned from the regatta—a regatta where Eddy had been conspicuously absent—a footman knocked at May’s bedchamber and asked if May would please join Her Majesty for tea. May hurried after him, grateful that her white dress was still as spotless as when she had put it on that morning.
“You can wait for Her Majesty here,” the footman announced, leading her into Victoria’s second-floor sitting room.
May took a seat on a floral-printed sofa, then nervously stood again. What if Hélène had made good on her threats, and told the queen everything May had done? Surely she wouldn’t dare while May still had the power to ruin her?
In the corner sat Victoria’s writing desk, a half-finished letter on its surface. Framed pictures hung on the butter-yellow walls. A console table behind the sofa was covered in dozens of personal knickknacks. May stepped closer to examine them. There were little statuettes and a miniature of Prince Albert, and was that a brass paperweight shaped like a baby’s foot?
“That was Alfred’s. I had a sculptor cast it on his first birthday.” Victoria’s voice cut into May’s thoughts.
“Oh! Your Majesty.” May sank into the lowest possiblecurtsy, embarrassed to have been caught snooping. She was as bad as Hélène.
“It’s quite all right, May. I must admit, I’m glad you gravitated toward the baby’s foot. When I brought Alexandra here twenty-five years ago, she just sat on the sofa and stared out the window. Didn’t pick up a single thing, and this room is full of them.” Victoria sniffed disapprovingly.
“I’m sorry,” May said again. Had she heard correctly? It sounded like Victoria was suggesting that she’d brought Alexandra to this very room before Bertie proposed—and that May might be in a similar position.
Maybe she wasn’t here to be reprimanded after all.
“A small amount of curiosity is an admirable quality.” Queen Victoria gestured toward the French doors that led to a balcony. “Please, do come outside.”
