Page 86 of A Queen's Match
Hélène sat back on the bed, moving slowly so as not todisturb Eddy, then stretched out until she was lying next to him, on her side. She reached an arm around his torso, settling against him the way she did so often when they were in bed together. He sighed a little in contentment, shifting to make space for her.
It was strange. When she tucked her head into his shoulder, she could smell the illness on him—a caustic, medicinal smell—but his body was as taut and strong as ever. He certainly didn’t resemble the patients she had seen at the hospital, frail or wasted away. Why, from the feel of his muscles, you would think he was in perfect health.
You just had to ignore that his skin was slightly cool to the touch.
“The nurse might come back. Or the doctor,” Eddy said softly.
“So what?” Hélène kept tracing her fingers in light circles over his skin, the way her mother used to do when Hélène was little and felt sick. “If the doctor walks in, I’ll say that I’m helping to cure you.”
“Ah, yes, physical touch. The oldest cure known to man.”
“And you said you weren’t French,” she teased.
They lay there for a while in silence, just listening to each other’s heartbeat. Then Eddy said, “Tell me something.”
“What?”
“Anything. I just want to hear your voice.”
Hélène tried to adopt her most upbeat tone, thinking of what might distract Eddy. “We had quite an eventful night on Saturday, leaving the Devanes’ reception. Lord Lawrence almost got into a brawl with my parents over our carriage.”
“He never could handle his whiskey,” Eddy remarked. Hélène tried to ignore how thin his voice was.
“It was quite amusing, honestly—Lawrence was so drunk that he couldn’t tell his coat of arms from ours, kept trying to shove my parents away from the door. In the end my father decided it was easier to give him a ride home than to forcibly kick him out.”
She went on like that for a while, talking about nonsensical things. When Eddy’s breathing had become more even, Hélène fell silent. But she didn’t move. She stayed there, her arm still thrown over his body.
Here was her happiness, she thought. Here was what she cared about most, held within the circle of her arms. She could not bear to lose it.
She began whispering again, but in French this time. Saying things she never dared tell Eddy when they were awake. That she believed their souls had been cleaved apart in the moment of creation, as the Greeks thought, and that now they were reunited. That she couldn’t wait to have children with him. That she hoped they had his eyes and his laugh, and his sense of mischief, too. That those children would be raised in a new way—not to resent the throne, or to fear it, but to accept it as a privilege and a responsibility.
“Are you praying?”
Eddy’s question startled Hélène. She’d thought he was long since asleep.
“In a fashion,” she agreed, and leaned over to kiss his brow. She had been proclaiming her love for him, after all. Surely God had heard. Surely He would answer.
“I love you,” Eddy murmured. He drifted off again, and this time she knew he was truly asleep.
He was far more ill than she’d realized, Hélène thought nervously. No matter. She was here now, and she would bring him back to health through sheer force of will.
He would get better. Hélène had youth and determination and stubbornness on her side, and she refused to even think about the alternative.
Chapter Thirty-Two
May
May slid into the frontpew of the church of St.Mary Magdalene, crossing herself before she lowered onto the kneeler.
She’d been at Sandringham for two days now. When the summons had come—a note from Eddy’s mother on her personal stationery, sent by special messenger, informing May that Eddy was ill and she needed to come as soon as possible—she’d devolved into momentary panic.
Did she dare show up at Sandringham when Eddy clearly didn’t want her there? The last time she’d seen him, he’d told her in no uncertain terms toleave the country.
But if she ignored a direct request from the Princess of Wales, then she might as well pack her bags and leave for Rumpenheim, because she would abandon any chance at a future in England.
Besides, what if Eddy’s illness had changed things? People tended to feel forgiving after a brush with death, didn’t they? At the very least it might buy her some time. And in the best-case scenario, Eddy might recover and decide that it was no use punishing May for her transgressions. They could find a tactful way to break off Eddy and May’s engagement, then part ways amicably.
But once May had arrived at Sandringham, and realizedthat Hélène was there, too, she had known that her hopes were futile. Eddy might be willing to forgive and forget, but Hélène never would.
