Page 39 of A Queen's Match
“I consider Eddy a friend. Of course, I have the utmostrespect for him and for our entire family. And I believe that over time, Eddy and I can develop love between us, based on our shared duties, and children.”
There was a long silence. Victoria stirred her spoon in her cup of tea, then lifted it for a slow sip. May hardly dared to breathe.
Finally, the queen lowered her cup and stared at May. “I was prepared to let Eddy marry for love once before, and I will not make that mistake again. Our future queen must not be chosen based on emotions and impulse, but on her fortitude. Her poise,” Victoria declared.
May liked to think she had those things in spades, thanks to her father.
“Eddy is not perfect, as you know,” Victoria went on. “He is impetuous, and not nearly intellectual enough. Try as I might, I never could get him to learn a single foreign language. Do you speak any languages, May?”
“German and French. And a bit of Italian, though it’s largely conversational.”
“I’m pleased to hear it,” the queen said soundly. “Eddy needs a wife with a good head on her shoulders. One who is mature, free from impulsiveness or reckless actions. One who will remain constant.”
Clearly, the queen had taken Hélène’s refusal to convert as a sign that she was headstrong and willful, and careless with Eddy’s feelings. May hoped it made her seem more reliable, more responsible, by comparison.
The queen leaned back in her chair. “There is, however, the issue of your family. You know some people will say you are insufficiently royal.”
“I am a great-granddaughter of King GeorgeIII and Queen Charlotte,” May hurried to remind her.
“But your father is merely the son of a grand duke, and an inconsequential one at that. Not to mention that he and your mother squander any income I grant them.”
Well, no one could accuse the queen of mincing words.
“The manner in which my parents conduct their financial affairs grieves me deeply.” May lowered her eyes.
“Bertie says he will not have it,” the queen added, with brutal frankness. “He cannot stand the thought of your parents at Marlborough House. He finds them too…” The queen trailed off, but May could finish the sentence.Too tacky, too gauche.
If only the Prince of Wales, or the queen, understood the truth—that the Tecks’ greatest problem wasn’t their social standing; it was Francis’s temper. His unadulterated cruelty.
But then, no one ever saw what went on behind closed doors.
“I understand the Prince of Wales’s opinion, though it saddens me,” May said gravely. “Still, the opinion that primarily concerns me is yours. If you’ll forgive me for saying it, you were about to let Eddy marry a young woman who was not raised in the Church of England. Would you weigh the sins of my parents as greater than the sin of not sharing our faith?”
There was another drawn-out silence, heavy with significance.
“May, you are not who I would have picked for Eddy, but I am beginning to think that he made a sound choice for himself. You are clearly a woman of good sense. And that is what Eddy needs more than anything. Far be it from me tohold your parents against you,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “My mother caused her fair share of problems for me, when I was a young woman.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” May felt a hollow shock ringing through her, making her almost dizzy. It was, she realized, the feeling of victory. Of no longer having to struggle.
It wasrelief.
Victoria studied her for a long moment, head tilted. Then she remarked, “I doubt any of my tiaras would suit you.”
“Your Majesty?” May asked, with some alarm.
“No matter. We shall make you a new one.”
That evening, the Prince ofWales had been scheduled to hold a reception aboard theVictoria and AlbertII.Now that reception had been commandeered by the queen.
May couldn’t be certain, but she had the sense that the yacht had been rapidly cleared of guests, Bertie’s mistress and the baccarat tables shuffled onto another boat, replaced by flowers and a sense of decorum.
Now May was here, standing on the middle of the yacht’s three decks. There was a chill in the air off the Channel. In the distance, the sun was setting over the slate-gray waters, which were still punctuated by colorful sails as a few competitors—mainly the victors of various races—returned their boats to the harbor. May felt an odd sort of kinship with them.I won today, too,she wanted to cry out.I started the race at a disadvantage, and yet here I am, about to win the greatest prize.
Guests spilled out of the yacht’s main salon, which wasessentially a floating stateroom, its walls paneled with green silk and its furniture gilded. Brocade curtains hung around the great glass windows overlooking the harbor. From deeper in the ship, uniformed staff emerged with drinks; a pair of violinists played in the corner of the deck. Since this was the queen’s party, everyone wore evening dress—frothy gowns and diamond necklaces, the men in dark tailcoats or military uniforms with sashes. May reached down to finger her broché satin gown, the nicest one she owned. If only she had some decent jewelry. Well, that would soon be fixed.
She noted with pleasure that everyone was here to see her triumph. Alix stood along the railing, seeming lost in thought; the Coburg sisters were talking with their Prussian cousins, who’d come over from their yacht, theHohenzollern.And the tsarevich was in attendance with his uncle, accompanied by Hélène and her parents.
Studiouslynotlooking at Hélène, his arms crossed, was Eddy.
