Page 47 of A Queen's Match
“Why don’t you make it a group outing?” the queen suggested. “Eddy, you shall accompany your fiancée. Ernie and Maud, Alix and Maximilian, you must go as well.”
The queen’s matchmaking was comically obvious. Apparently, now that Eddy’s future was resolved, she had decided to move on to the next few couples among her grandchildren. May stole a glance at the Hesse siblings, who were so alike, with the same blue eyes and tawny blond hair, keeping theirown counsel as always. Even now they were exchanging murmured secrets.
May turned her back on them, fighting off a strange jealousy. Her brother, Dolly, had left home years ago to attend the military academy at Sandhurst, and rarely came back for visits. May didn’t blame him. But sometimes she wondered how it would feel to have a sibling to confide in: someone she trusted implicitly, the way Alix did Ernie or Ducky did Missy.
It was never wise to trust people, she reminded herself. Just look at what had happened the previous year, when she’d thought she and Agnes were friends.
From now on, May relied on no one but herself.
The town of Cowes was picturesque, its cobblestone streets hung with paper flags for the regatta. Their group of nine was too unwieldy to stay together; they broke into clusters, exploring shops where bells tinkled overhead as the door swung open, buying chocolate for Her Majesty from the store on High Street.
They regrouped at a flower market a few blocks away, to Missy’s evident delight. She whirled through the stalls like a princess from a storybook, fresh-faced and buoyant. Within minutes her arms overflowed with lilacs, violets, bluebells. “Can someone please open the carriage door?” she cried out, laughing.
May waited for George to run to Missy’s aid. But he didn’t move. He lingered at the back of the group, letting Maximilian and Eddy help her.
Curious, her heart skipping a little, May watched George. He wandered close to one of the carts, where rows of white flowers were arrayed on a shelf.
She followed.
He didn’t look up at her approach, but he said, very softly, “It’s your flower, May.”
“I’m sorry?”
George handed a few coins to the man behind the cart, then withdrew a single white blossom from a cluster. It was small but perfectly symmetrical, with pointed petals and a golden center. “A mayflower. Your namesake. May I?”
There was something old-fashioned and courtly about the way he had asked her permission. May nodded, suddenly unsure of herself.
“Yes, of course.”
George stepped forward and tucked the mayflower behind her ear.
There was nothing inappropriate about the gesture; it was polite, chivalrous even, a lovely gift from a future brother-in-law to his brother’s fiancée. Yet somehow it didn’t feel thatway.
May was acutely aware of the warmth of George’s fingers against her hair, the tenderness of his touch. His expression was gentle as always, but May caught a spark of something in his deep blue eyes.
A wild impulse crackled through her. May wanted to reach for George’s hand and catch it in her own, to guide his fingers to her face.
She imagined him running a thumb over her lower lip, then settling his hand on the back of her neck, behind the knot of her ash-blond hair. She imagined him lowering his mouth to hers.
What was wrong with her? She couldn’t be having suchdaydreams about George; she was engaged to his brother, and besides, everyone knew George was going to marry Missy.
Yet he wasn’t up there with Missy, gallantly loading flowers into the carriage for her.
He had walked slowly on purpose, to stay back with May and put a blossom in her hair.
“May…forgive me if I’m overstepping, but I have to ask,” George said hesitantly. “Are you happy?”
“Happy?” May repeated, startled.
“I just— You and Eddy. It took me by surprise.” George glanced down at his shoes, as if they might somehow help him navigate this awkward moment. “I had no idea that either of you was considering— That is, I thought Eddy…”
The others were half a block ahead by now. Ducky and Missy were at the center of the group, laughing, weaving flowers into necklaces and bracelets. Maximilian kept following Alix around; it was so clear to anyone watching that he was infatuated with her. Yet Alix seemed oblivious, treating him as nothing but a friend.
“Eddy says that you will make a wonderful queen. Of course, he’s right,” George fumbled to add. “I just want to make sure that Grandmother didn’t force you into it. You are happy, aren’t you?”
May couldn’t remember when anyone had asked whether she washappy.She was used to being asked many things—for her time, for her patience. For forbearance and duty and silence. But no one had ever inquired about something as frivolous as her happiness.
She recalled what she’d said to Agnes last year:I don’t think womencanbe happy.At the time, she had meant it.
