Page 11 of A Queen's Match
May and her mother would have gotten better seats if they’d arrived on time, but of course, Mary Adelaide had been running late. If only May could have come alone. Her mother was so gauche and loud, always singing the hymns woefully off-key. But May needed a chaperone, and Mary Adelaide, at least, wasn’t cruel.
May tugged her sleeve farther down her arm, hiding the spot where her father had grabbed her the other day. A nasty little bruise was blossoming there. Francis had always been vicious with his words, but now his anger had grown physical: he might hold her wrist harder than was necessary, or press fingers sharply into her flesh. He hadn’t actuallyhither yet, but May figured it was only a matter of time.
She had to get out of his house, and fast.
At the baptismal font, the godparents—the Prince and Princess of Wales and the queen herself—stepped forward. Queen Victoria held out her hands, and Louise obediently passed the baby girl to her great-grandmother. In her beribboned whitegown frothing with lace, a cap tied over her head, the infant looked more like a parcel than a person.
Lucky girl, getting the queen herself for a godmother.
The archbishop reached for a ceremonial silver ladle. “I baptize you, Alexandra, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
The girl had been named after her grandmother, Alexandra, the Princess of Wales. May couldn’t help thinking that Louise had made a mistake, not calling the baby Victoria.
Though technically speaking, May’s parents had namedherVictoria—she was Victoria Mary, even if she’d always gone by May. And look what good it had done her.
Queen Victoria held the infant with a steady grip as the archbishop drizzled water atop the baby’s head. Alexandra blinked in wide-eyed shock, then screwed up her little face and screamed.
The archbishop hurriedly made the sign of the cross over her and bowed to the queen. Victoria passed the baby back to Louise, but little Alexandra just howled all the louder. May saw a few family members exchanging judgmental glances.That girl is headstrong,they would whisper later;like her mother, she’ll be trouble.Whereas if a baby boy had screamed like that, they would have laughed and complimented his healthy set of lungs.
Even as newborns, girls should know how to moderate their voices.
Once the service had ended, everyone streamed outside, flocking around the Wales family. Alexandra looked as quietly beautiful as ever; Bertie grinned proudly next to her, the buttons of his waistcoat straining against his expanding girth. Last winter, he’d actually stopped bothering to fastenthe final button. If anyone else had done so, it would have been an embarrassment, but instead the men of London had all followed Bertie’s lead. Now tailors were cutting waistcoats to accommodate that final, unhooked button.
“Look, it’s Helena!” Mary Adelaide waved to someone. “Should we go say hello?”
“I was hoping to greet the Coburg sisters,” May replied. She had a sudden, intense urge to speak with Missy herself. Perhaps she would see why Missy had succeeded where she had failed, and captured George’s interest.
Not that May cared anymore. Her feelings for George had been extinguished, as firmly and definitively as snuffing a candle. She’d hardly even seen him in the past few months; soon after Sophie and Tino’s wedding he had left on another naval tour.
When she reached the sisters, May smiled through the sour feeling in her chest. Missy was so unfairly pretty, her blue eyes darting around the gathering with avid curiosity. At least May had on a nice dress today: an old one of Agnes’s, made of lilac silk with graduated tucks that emphasized her narrow waist.
“Welcome back to England,” she said in greeting. “How was your journey?”
“Loud,” Missy said cheerfully, nudging her sister’s shoulder. “Mama and Ducky fought the whole time.”
May glanced at Ducky for an explanation, startled by such bluntness, but Ducky just crossed her arms and glared out the garden gates.
“What are your plans while in London?” May asked after a beat. “Aside from next week’s anniversary party, of course.”
“I shall go riding,” Missy said eagerly. “There’s no way Mama can forbid it, not after I spent the winter riding in St.Petersburg with Ducky and Kiril. We got lost in the snow once, and had to—”
“Come now, Missy. May has no desire to hear about our misadventures,” Ducky cut in, too quickly. She turned back to May. “I’m sure we’ll view some picture galleries while here. Do you have any recommendations?”
“The Earl of Stafford has a lovely collection; he opens his home to friends on Thursday afternoons. How long will you be in town?” May asked.
Missy grinned mischievously. “That depends on Ducky.”
Ducky ignored the statement, though something flashed behind her eyes. “A few weeks, most likely.”
There was a secret here; May could sense it. Before she could ask more, the two sisters looked at something over May’s shoulder, then swept into curtsies.
May curtsied on instinct. She stayed low, her knees bent, until she was staring at the hem of a long black gown.
“Good morning, Missy, Ducky.” The queen paused for a fraction of an instant before adding, “And May.”
The Coburg girls dutifully replied with “Hello, Grandmother.” May waited until they were finished before daring her own greeting. “Good morning, Your Majesty. Congratulations on your new goddaughter.” As if Queen Victoria didn’t have two dozen godchildren already. “It was a lovely service.”
“I’m afraid little Alexandra disagreed. She certainly made her displeasure known.” Victoria chuckled indulgently. At moments like this, in her plain black gown and bonnet, she resembled a grandmother more than a queen. But May knewit would be a grave mistake to forget, even for a moment, whom she was speaking with.
