Page 18 of A Queen's Match
She was slightly alarmed to find that she wanted more of it, wanted to press away every last bit of space until there was nothing between them.
“I will try to call on you at Buckingham Palace,” Nicholas promised. Alix realized dazedly that the song was ending, the final chords of the waltz echoing through the ballroom.
With every ounce of will, she forced herself to step away.
“Hélène. How lovely to see you. Shall we dance?” Nicholas was looking behind Alix’s shoulder.
As she brushed past, Hélène leaned toward Alix’s ear. “I’ll bring him back to you. Once the baccarat games begin, try to linger near the coatroom.”
Near the coatroom. Alix felt herself flush as she realized what Hélène meant. It was hardly surprising; given how long Hélène and Eddy had kept up an illicit romance, she was clearly an expert in sneaking around. But Alix wasn’t brave enough for such wanton behavior.
Or was she?
Alix turned aside, fighting to suppress a smile. Maybe she was braver than she’d realized, because meeting with Nicholas in the coatroom didn’t sound frightening or wanton at all. It sounded wonderful.
After all this time, she and Nicholas were finally in the same place, and Alix was determined to make every momentcount.
Chapter Eight
May
May didn’t normally partake ofthe late-night meal at these events. Aside from the fact that it was too chaotic—drunk guests swaying down a buffet line while footmen ladled food from silver chafing dishes onto their plates—the food was far too heavy. Who wanted lobster in cream sauce at midnight?
Tonight, however, May had ventured into the loud hubbub of the dining room. Missy was in there somewhere. And May suspected that Missy was her best chance at getting close to the situation with Ducky and Eddy.
“Plotting how to eliminate your competition?” asked an unexpected voice. May turned, startled, to see Agnes Endicott.
As always, the American wore a gown that was excruciatingly, obviously new: an ivory broché satin with countless tiny pleats and ruchings. A diamond necklace settled over her collarbone, its stones refracting the light.
Following May’s gaze, Agnes gave a self-deprecating smile. “I know, the necklace is a bit much; but Papa bought it for me, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him I can’t wear it. At least it’s not a tiara,” she added. “You should have seen theones the Vanderbilts are wearing in New York. Tiaras in a box, from Tiffany’s!”
Those were May’s words, from the time Agnes had asked if she could purchase a tiara at a jewelry store.A true lady would never wear a tiara in a box,May had warned.If you don’t have a family tiara, better not to wear one at all.
It hurt, thinking of all the afternoons they had spent together in Agnes’s sitting room. Back when May was teaching Agnes the rules of society—when she’d thought they were friends.
“Is that where you’ve been all this time? New York?” May heard herself ask.
Agnes shrugged. “Chicago, and then New York. My grandfather died. We had to go back to settle his affairs.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” May said automatically, then drew back, recollecting herself. “Agnes, what are you doing here?”
“The Prince of Wales lost some money to Papa at baccarat, which Papa conveniently forgot to collect.” Before May could reply to that, Agnes reached for her hand and squeezed tight. “Don’t look, butsheis here.”
Of course May looked. Striding into the dining room, arm in arm with the Tsarevich Nicholas, was Princess Hélène.
“She’s certainly trying to make a statement in that gown,” Agnes added disdainfully.
May tugged free of Agnes’s grip, though she couldn’t help but agree with her remark. “Thatisa rather bright shade of crimson. It almost reminds me of a military jacket.”
Agnes snorted. “If she’s trying to make us all stare, she’s succeeded. And she’s been with His Imperial Highness all night.”
May had noticed it, too: all the shameless dancing and flirting between Hélène and Nicholas. Even now Hélène wasbeaming up at the tsarevich as if she’d never heard Eddy’s name. It made May feel oddly relieved; she’d always felt slightly guilty about the blackmail Agnes had set in motion. But Hélène clearly hadn’t loved Eddy the way she’d claimed to, if she had moved on to another prince—admittedly, the only prince in the world who was richer and more powerful than the Prince of England.
“What a hypocrite,” May couldn’t help muttering.
“Exactly.”
Agnes and May shared a look of understanding, almost amusement. Then Agnes said softly, “I miss you, May.”
