Page 3 of A Queen's Match
“I do.”
A cloud scuttled across the sun, breaking the light that danced over the ocean. Hélène splayed her fingers on the water as if she might catch the shadows in her grasp.
“If you love him, you cannot let May win. You need to take action,” Amélie told her.
“But the only safe action is to do nothing!” Hélène splashed her hands angrily into the water. “If anyone learned about me and Laurent, I’d be ruined, and our family in the bargain. Papa would never get his throne back.”
“Why not?”
“Because I would have shattered our reputation!”
“You should have more faith in our family.” There was a new determination in Amélie’s voice. “People have been trying to destroy us for centuries, yet here we are! We survived burning palaces and revolutions; we survived mad kings and corrupt kings and a hundred years of war with England. You really think that one little affair with a coachman would bring down our dynasty, when even the guillotine didn’t endus?”
Hélène stared at Amélie with something like awe. “You can be quite frightening, you know.”
“Motherhood tends to make women into the scariest versions of themselves,” Amélie said ruefully. Her hand drifted to her belly, and Hélène’s eyebrows shot up.
“You’re pregnant again?”
“I think so. It’s still early days, though.”
Hélène hugged her sister again, more gently this time; even as a strange, bittersweet sensation seized her. She adored hersister, but it felt like their lives were diverging. Amélie was so settled, happy with her husband and her son, and now another baby on the way. While Hélène was confused about most everything.
“Speaking with maternal wisdom, you need to go back,” Amélie insisted.
Hélène blew out a breath. “I’m scared. As long as May knows about me and Laurent, I don’t dare antagonize her.”
“You mean, as long as May hasproofabout you and Laurent. Without the letter, her allegations are nothing but slander, and will hurt her as much as they hurt you.”
Amélie was right. Without Laurent’s letter, all May could do was gossip—and Hélène could fight against that.
“You need to let May think she’s won,” Amélie mused aloud. “Once she believes you’ve given up on Eddy, she’ll lower her guard. Then you can find a way to outwit her, and get your letter back.”
Hélène turned and began swimming with strong, clean strokes toward the shore, no longer caring about the ridiculous bathing machine. What did it matter if anyone happened to see her in her wet bloomers?
“What are you doing?” Amélie called out.
“I’m going to England!” Hélène needed to pack her things, book herself on the next ship to Portsmouth. And she should write to Alix. The two of them had exchanged a few letters since that night in Athens, when they had confessed their secrets while watching the fireworks.
Well,Hélènehad confessed her secrets. Alix had explained that she loved someone whose parents disapproved of her, but she’d never admitted his name.
Hélène heard an exasperated laugh behind her. Amélie was splashing along in her wake, the bathing machine left behind like the hull of an abandoned ship. Then the two sisters were running, waves breaking around them as they sprinted, dripping wet, onto the beach.
Amélie was right. The Orléans dynasty was made of fighters, of survivors.
If May of Teck wanted a fight—well then, a fight Hélène would give her.
Chapter Two
May
May of Teck prided herselfon seizing every chance to further her own cause, even if it meant attending an industrial fair.
“Oh, look, ice cream!” Princess Maud tugged May toward a cart with a striped umbrella. May forced an agreeable smile, though she hadn’t come to an exposition hall in South Kensington to eat dessert. She was here because this event was sponsored by the Prince of Wales, and she’d hoped that meant Eddy might come, too.
So far, all she’d done was stroll the exhibit hall with Eddy’s sister Maud, feigning interest in galvanized electrical wire and new types of phonographs.
“Can I offer you some ice cream? I’ve kept it stored for over ten days in my new icebox, without replenishing the ice!” The man at the cart prattled on about some new insulation he’d invented, explaining that iceboxes would someday be powered by electricity. “Then we won’t need to haul ice down from the mountains at all!”
