Page 64 of A Queen's Match
“Don’t you get it? For me, itwillbe a prison.”
The bleak truth in his words made Alix’s heart ache. She looked out the window at the darkened sky. Far overhead, the moon was a pale sliver.
“I would have expected a little more understanding, from you of all people,” Ernie said impatiently.
“What’sthatsupposed to mean?”
“That you know what it’s like to resign yourself to the inevitable!”
“I thought you said I did the right thing, walking away from Nicholas!” she shot back.
“Because you might fall in love with someone else!” Ernie exclaimed. “Maybe Maximilian—who adores you, by the way, and seems like your perfect match. Or maybe someone you haven’t met yet. But at least you have a chance of marrying someone without the whole thing being a lie.”
Alix ignored what Ernie had said about Maximilian, though some part of her tingled with awareness at the thought he might adore her.
“You should have seen Johann’s face when he heard the news,” she said softly. “He was devastated.”
Ernie ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “What do you want me to do, Alix? Put a tiara on Johann’s head and tell everyone he’s the Grand Duchess of Hesse?”
“I want you to behappy!”
At her outburst, Ernie’s tension seemed to deflate. He nodded in acknowledgment of her words.
“Maybe someday the world will be different, and people like me will have a chance at real happiness,” he said softly. “In the meantime, I’m lucky to have found Ducky. She fits all the criteria that I need in a wife, and has agreed to let me live on my own terms. She won’t ask any inconvenient questions. As for Johann—I’m doing this forus,to give us more time together. To protect us. He has always known the demands on me, and what is possible.”
As well as what isimpossible,Ernie didn’t need to add.
There were a thousand things Alix longed to tell her brother:Please be careful,andI worry for you,andI hate to see you settling for a pale imitation of love when the real thing is within reach.
But of course, a real relationship—a real marriage—wasn’t within reach. Not for him.
“If you’re happy, then I am happy for you,” Alix promised.
Ernie stepped forward then, pulling her into a hug. She was startled to realize that he was close to tears.
“Thank you, Alix,” he mumbled, his words muffled. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You’ll always have me,” Alix swore. Her arms closed tight around her brother—as if somehow, against the odds, she could protect him from society, from the world. From the future that was careening ever faster toward them both.
Chapter Twenty-Five
May
Several weeks later, May staredat herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, which reflected back the opulence of the private shopping area. The few times she’d come to Linton& Curtis with her old friend Agnes, May had seen luxury, but this was something else entirely. Even the excruciatingly wealthy Agnes was just an ordinary person.
May was now a future queen, and had transcended into the realm of magic.
The entire store had shut down for May’s appointment. Mr.Curtis himself was overseeing her fittings, along with the two women Queen Victoria had sent: the Baroness Churchill and the Marchioness of Ely, both the queen’s dear friends and ladies-in-waiting—and, incidentally, both named Jane. May hoped that their presence meant the queen would bepayingfor today’s purchases. Though of course no one had mentioned anything as plebeian as the bill. May suspected that her mother—currently taking up a whole section of the sofa in the private dressing area, giggling her schoolgirl laugh—hadn’t even considered it.
May had felt obligated to bring her; it was hardly appropriate to get fitted for a trousseau without one’s mother. But she wasn’t exactly asking Mary Adelaide for fashion advice.
A cluster of seamstresses and attendants had buzzed around May all morning, recording dozens of highly specific measurements, helping her into sample gowns so that she might select her favorite necklines. And of course, showering her in relentless flattery.
“Mr.Curtis,” the Marchioness of Ely commanded. “Please remind us of the items ordered for Her Serene Highness’s trousseau thus far.”
The boutique owner smiled, his walrus-like mustache curling upward. “Of course, Lady Ely. The selections include fifteen tea gowns, ten matinée gowns, ten traveling capes, twelve pairs of gloves—”
“Twelve pairs of gloves!” Lady Ely cut in. “Think of how many places Her Serene Highness will go, to parades and to visit coal mines and to the harbor when the navy decommissions a vessel! She will need at least two dozen.”
