Page 28 of A Queen's Match
Everything had happened quickly once May had helped Ducky at the gallery tour. The note had come on Queen Victoria’s stationery the following week, just like the previous year’s invitation to Balmoral—a request that “sweet May please join us for a family weekend at Cowes.” When May’s father had seen the message, a vein had pulsed on his forehead in silent rage, but he’d let her go. No one turned down an invitation from the queen. Especially not to Osborne House. Balmoral was a private residence, too, but the queen was forever hosting people there: inviting ambassadors or prime ministers to visit, letting them borrow her plaids and traipse through the highlands.
Osborne House was her refuge, the closest thing to a break Queen Victoria ever took. No statesman ever received an invitation there.
May edged closer to the ferry’s railing, where Ducky stood alone, a solitary figure gilded in the afternoon light. “Thank you for making sure I was included,” she murmured, so softly that only Ducky could hear.
Ducky glanced over with a smile. “Thankyoufor getting me out of that engagement. Apparently, Eddy has already told the queen that he refuses to marry me.”
“Now that you’re free of Eddy, how will you get permission to marry Kiril?” It was a forward question, but May assumed Ducky wouldn’t mind.
“There’s no way I can marry Kiril.” Ducky blew out a breath, staring at the horizon. “Mother says he’s too wild and unpredictable, but it’s really about his fortune. For a Romanov, he’s not very wealthy. He gambles a lot.”
“Oh,” May replied, because she couldn’t think of a proper response to this statement.
“Perhaps I’ll never marry,” Ducky replied, clearly trying for a careless tone. “I can live in Coburg forever, have all the horses I want, sneak off to see Kiril whenever possible. There are worse things.”
At the sound of a nearby commotion, May looked over. It was Prince Eddy. He had lowered himself into a small sailboat, accompanied by another man in sailor’s uniform.
“Grandmother, may I go ahead to raise your standard?” he called out.
Queen Victoria stood on deck, frowning down at hergrandson. “Why don’t you take Ducky with you. I’m sure she’d love to see Osborne House from the water.”
No one dared point out that the ferry also offered views from the water.
Ducky made a show of clutching her belly. “Of course, Grandmother, but I would hate to get seasick. You know how weak my stomach is.” She glanced meaningfully at May, who decided she might as well seize the moment.
“If Ducky is indisposed, Your Royal Highness, perhaps I could sail with you?” May called out to Eddy, her blood humming at her own daring.
Eddy seemed relieved at her offer. “Of course.”
One of the sailors helped May down the ladder. The wind tugged the skirts of her gown, trying to rip her hat from her head. May held it in place, then reached for Eddy’s hand, letting him help vault her into the smaller sailboat.
“George?” Eddy called out. “Come with us?”
George met May’s gaze for a fraction of an instant, then shook his head. “I’ll stay on board, thanks.”
He probably wanted the chance to be alone with Missy, May thought. Not that she cared.
There was a little jolt as their sailboat pulled away from the hulking mass of the ferry, its wake churning white around them. The sailor who accompanied them began untying a rope, but Eddy waved him away.
“Please, Lucas, let me. I never get to sail anymore.”
“Of course, sir. I shall be up front.” Lucas smiled in May’s direction, revealing a gap between his two front teeth, and disappeared.
Eddy looked at May with a slightly sheepish expression.“Welcome aboard theMinnow.I just need a moment to set everything aright.”
“I shall make myself as unobtrusive as possible,” May promised, and perched on the side of the sailboat.
Eddy shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. May was a bit startled at the sight of his bare forearms. He was wiry but strong, his skin covered in light brown hair that glinted in the sun.
She watched as he launched into movement, untying ropes before retying them other places, letting a great canvas sail unfurl behind them with a resounding snap. It filled with wind, and their boat leapt forward like a living thing. Eddy’s motions were precise, automatic—the way you do something you have mastered, something you’ve done a thousand times before.
When Eddy finally came to stand behind the tiller, May ventured to speak. “I’m surprised Her Majesty lets you sail alone. Isn’t it a safety hazard, having the future king on his own boat? The tides are strong here.”
She’d overheard one of the boatmen on the ferry say that, but Eddy looked at her with unmistakable approval. He clearly thought May had reached that conclusion about the tides on her own.
“You’re right. The sailing is trickiest around Egypt Point, where back eddies from shore meet the English Channel. But I know my way through it.” Eddy shrugged. “Plus, if I die, there’s always George.”
“Don’t say that!”
