Page 89 of A Queen's Match
“Is that your grandfather’s sword?”
George held out the sword and closed his eyes, bracing himself for the worst.
Victoria took it, lips pursed, and placed it lovingly back on the wall. Then she stared at the two of them. “George, go find a book to read. Eddy, come with me.”
She gestured to the sofa, which was the same red-and-white plaid pattern as the curtains. Eddy reluctantly took a seat opposite her.
“I’m disappointed in you, Eddy. You acted discourteously, and worse, you talked George into your poor behavior.”
“How did you know it was my idea?” he asked sullenly.
“We both know that George follows in your wake.” Grandmother’s reproof was gentle. “He wants to be just likeyou, Eddy. It is a heavy responsibility, isn’t it, being the elder brother?”
“Is that why you’re punishing me, and not George?”
Grandmother shook her head. “I am not punishing you, but I want you to understand that you must take care, even more so than George. You are the future king, and he is not. Do you know what that means?”
“Yes,” Eddy said impatiently. “I will wear the crown, and ride in the first coach in parades, and my face will be on money!”
“There is so much more to reigning than what you’ve described. You will need to listen to your advisers and your Parliament, and sign laws. You will lead the Church.” Grandmother must have seen Eddy’s focus drifting, because she reached for his hand. “But yes, you also get to wear the crown, and ride first in parades.”
“What about George? What will he do?”
“He will be a duke, and remain a valued member of this family. But he will never be king, not unless—” Grandmother broke off, shaking her head as if she shouldn’t have spoken.
Eddy knew what she’d been about to say. “Unless I die, like Grandpapa Albert.”
“You are young and healthy,” the queen said solemnly. “Let us pray that such a day never comes.”
“We need to help himget warm,” a male voice was saying.
“Get him warm?” That was Eddy’s mother. “You came all the way from London, and the best advice you can give my son is to add a blanket? I thought you were an expert in pulmonary illness!”
“I am doing all I can, but His Royal Highness’s decline has been precipitous. I’m afraid it is in God’s hands now. Perhaps, Your Royal Highness, you might join Her Serene Highness the PrincessMay at chapel. Your prayers will do as much for His Royal Highness as any medicine….”
Eddy prowled the Cadogans’ ballin his musketeer costume, ignoring everyone who attempted to greet him, searching for Hélène.
It had been torture, not speaking to her for the past several weeks. Eddy hadn’t realized that one’s happiness could be so utterly dependent on another person. Really, this whole falling-in-love business was much riskier than anyone had told him.
Then he saw her dancing with Tino.
She looked impossibly lovely and out of reach, wearing an ordinary riding habit instead of the fancy dress that the invitation had called for. How typically Hélène, to buck convention by wearing something she already owned instead of an elaborate gown in the style of Cleopatra or Marie Antoinette. The riding habit showed off her figure, and her cheeks were flushed pink. She tipped back her head and laughed at something Tino said.
She glanced over as if she felt Eddy staring, and their gazes locked.
He jerked his head toward the double doors that led to the terrace. Hélène hesitated for a moment. Then, to his relief, she murmured something to Tino and followed Eddy.
When they’d reached the shadowed privacy of the orangerie, Eddy cleared his throat. “Have you read my letters?”
Hélène crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head. He should have known. Her stubbornness was one of his favorite things about her, as long as it wasn’t directed at him.
“I want to talk to you,” he pleaded, but Hélène cut himoff.
“I don’t think we should be speaking at all, not when you’re going to marry Alix!”
“But that’s just what I want to talk to you about! I want to marry you instead!”
The words had taken up residence in his mind long ago; it was high time he spoke them aloud.
