Page 72 of A Queen's Match
“Remember how I told you that I didn’t wish to be courted because I was in love with someone else?” Alix asked.
His eyes flashed, as if he’d noticed her use of the past tense.“I remember,” he said, his voice carefully neutral.
“Well, that young man and I—we are done.”
“I’m sorry.” Maximilian seemed to mean it. “Of course I am here, if you need a friend.”
It must have been the aftereffects of that gland Maximilian had spoken of, the panic ebbing from Alix’s system like a poison. Or perhaps it was the instinctive way he’d carried her, letting her lean on his strength, his warmth. Whatever it was, Alix heard herself say, “If I need a friend, I’ll turn to Hélène or to my cousins. I have no use for another friend, Maximilian.”
He shifted slightly toward her. “Are you saying…?”
“I don’t know if you even wish to court me, but if you’d like to, there are no more obstacles. Unless you were frightened off by all this.” She gestured ruefully to the blanket, indicating the whole awful episode that had just happened.
Maximilian’s mouth lifted in a smile. “Alix of Hesse, I have wanted to court you for a very long time.”
“I— All right, then,” she said, suddenly nervous.
“All right, then,” he repeated evenly.
Perhaps he had more experience in courting than she did; because even though she’d been forced into those awkward interactions with Eddy two years before, even though she and Nicholas had slept together, Alix felt suddenly uncertain. She’d never been truly courted by a young man—not like this, with everything done by the book, in the proper order.
Maximilian reached over and took one of her hands in his. “And please, stop feeling so ashamed about theseepisodes,as you call them.”
Her fingers laced around his. Then they both seemed to realize at the same moment the situation they were in—a man and a woman, alone, in her bedroom.
“I’ll check on you later, if that’s all right,” he said, standing. Then he leaned over to drop a quick, eager kiss on her mouth.
Alix lifted a hand to her lips, startled, as he walked out the door.
Maximilian had seen her. He knew her most shameful secret, and instead of being repelled by it, or disgusted, he had stayed with her through it. Had fought it with calm rationality.
He had walked right into the darkness at the core of her, and he hadn’t run off. He’d just lit a torch and started burning the darkness away.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
May
May froze halfway down thestairs. Her father stood in the entrance hall, glaring at the carriage in the driveway—one marked with the queen’s crest, pulled by a pair of perfectly matched white horses.
“You are heading to Buckingham Palace?” Francis demanded.
May started tentatively down the stairs again. “Today is the first sitting for my official portrait with Eddy.”
“I will join you,” her father declared, crossing his arms over his chest.
To May’s surprise, her mother strode in from the drawing room. “Come now, Francis, May can go alone. After all, you’re not the one sitting for the portrait.”
“Neither are you,” Francis said viciously. “As if anyone would evenwanta portrait of you, you cow.”
Mary Adelaide sagged a little. The morning light fell on her face, underscoring the lines around her mouth, the weariness on her features.
The sight of it broke something in May. Before she could think twice, she clattered down the last few steps, throwing up an arm as if to shield Mary Adelaide.
“Don’t talk to Mother that way.”
Like some ancient predator that had stumbled across a new victim, Francis turned his head slowly in May’s direction.
Behind him, May saw Mary Adelaide shaking her head in warning.Don’t do it,her eyes pleaded.Don’t provoke him.
