Page 41 of A Queen's Match
Yes, she wanted to leave. She wanted to sprint to the side of the yacht and jump out into the ocean, swim all the way to Portugal and cry on her sister’s shoulder.
The deck had become chaotic as guests crushed eagerly toward May. They all exclaimed that they’d had no idea about her and Eddy, none at all! Had he started courting here at Osborne House? When did it happen?
Hélène heard the subtext in their questions. They were trying to puzzle out how this shocking, inexplicable engagement had come about.By sabotage,Hélène wanted to tell them.And cruelty and blackmail.
May wasn’t wearing a ring, Hélène noticed with a stab of relief. Still, this all felt unbearably official—announced by the queen herself, at a reception full of gossipy nobles and foreign royals, who would go home and write to their friends of the news. By tomorrow, half of England would know about Eddy and May.
It was far more official than Eddy’s so-called “understanding” with Alix, an arrangement that had never been formalized.
Or Eddy’s engagement to Hélène, which had been known only to their respective families. An engagement like that, made in secret, was easy to break off.
Hélène stared at Eddy, noting how stiff and resentful he seemed. Actually, she realized, he might be drunk. Feeling her gaze, Eddy looked up.
His eyes slid from her to Nicholas, anger radiating from him in waves that were practically visible.No,Hélène mouthed, when she understood. No, no, surely he didn’t believe she and Nicholas were really together?
But it seemed that he did. Hélène’s heart broke at what an earth-shattering mistake she’d made.
“That’s it. We’re getting you out of here,” Nicholas said, a bit protectively.
His hand still on her elbow, he guided her through the crowds, saying something about her seasickness; Hélène didn’t know and didn’t especially care. She felt hot and dizzy and weak all at once. A few people glanced their way, because he was Nicholas, after all, the future tsar. But they quickly looked back to the greater drama of the evening—May, who was at the center of a sea of admirers, smiling more broadly than Hélène had ever seen.
May, a princess so far down the pecking order that most of them had forgotten her, who would now become queen.
Hélène was only dimly aware of Nicholas helping her into a rowboat, where a sailor in a uniform asked where he could take them. Hélène felt numb. She leaned over, trailing her fingers in the choppy water, relishing the cold.
“I’m so sorry,” Nicholas said, quietly enough that the sailor couldn’t hear. “This is my fault. I’m the one who asked you here, out of selfish reasons, because I wanted the chance to be with Alix. But now Eddy thinks—I mean, he assumes—”
“You’re not to blame, Nicholas,” Hélène heard herself say. “It was my idea that we pretend to court, remember?”
She had trusted that Eddy would wait for her: that somehow he would see through the performance she and Nicholas were playing out before the world. Even if he hadn’t, even if he truly thought he’d lost her to his cousin, why had he gotten engaged so quickly? And to such a venomous, heartless person as May, someone who only viewed him as a title, not a person.
Hélène should have told Eddy everything. She should have let him in on all her plans, explained that she was playing a dangerous game against May and that he needed to be careful. It would have been risky, certainly, but at least she wouldn’t have riskedthis.
When they were back aboard thePolar Star,Nicholas handed Hélène to a concerned-looking Violette. He hesitated. “Are you sure you’re all right? I mean, of course you’re not all right, but—should I—”
“Go back to the party,” Hélène forced herself to say over the roar in her ears. “Everyone will be focused on Eddy and May. This is a great opportunity for you and Alix. I want to be alone, anyway.”
Nicholas’s deep blue eyes were dark with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
Hélène allowed Violette to shepherd her belowdecks. Her room aboard the yacht was lavish, its bed piled high with embroidered coverlets, the paneled wood walls inlaid with brass. It felt like they were in a palace, except for the small round window set into the wall, looking out over the water.
Violette said nothing as she helped Hélène out of her gown and into a chemise, then brushed her long dark hair until it rippled over her back.
“I’d like to rest,” Hélène said woodenly.
Violette nodded and retreated, shutting the door behind her with a click.
Through the window, Hélène could just see theVictoria and Albert II,anchored only a hundred yards away and yet at an impossible distance from her. Its staterooms were aglow,the windows golden squares against the dimness. May and Eddy’s impromptu engagement party was in full swing.
“I’m sorry, Eddy. I ruined everything,” Hélène whispered into the silence.
Then she laid her head on the Romanovs’ priceless silk pillow and cried.
Chapter Eighteen
Alix
Alix stood with Maximilian onthe deck, glancing from Eddy’s glum expression to May’s hard, polished smile. This was a disaster. Eddy had clearly gotten engaged to May out of hurt, after he’d seen Nicholas and Hélène together on the deck that morning. He’d done something drastic, as Alix had known he would.
