Alix,
My mother just told me your joyous news, and I want to be the first to congratulate you. I am so excited for you and my cousin. Eddy is lucky to have you as a wife. I know that he will make you happy, and of course you must be delighted to stay in your beloved England….
There was more in the same vein, but Alix set the letter down, her hands trembling. Beneath her outrage—this wasclearly the work of the Princess of Wales, who’d written her sister, Nicholas’s mother, about an engagement that hadn’t evenhappenedyet—she felt a flicker of confused hope.
What did it mean, that Nicholas had written to her about Eddy?
Throwing everything she knew about etiquette and proper behavior to the winds, Alix reached for a sheet of her stationery.
Your Imperial Highness,
No, that felt wrong. He had called her Alix; surely she could use his name.
Nicholas,
I was delighted to receive a letter from you. However, I am afraid I must inform you that your mother has fallen victim to a rumor. There is no news about me and Prince Eddy, except that I am staying at Balmoral with Her Majesty, and the Waleses are also here.
If anything is agreed upon, you will learn of it when a formal announcement is made.
I hope you are in good health and continuing to recite poetry.
Respectfully yours,
Alix
The line about poetry might have been a bit much, but she wanted to remind him that they weren’t strangers. They had a shared history, too: maybe not as extensive as her ties with Eddy, but one that could be built upon. If Nicholas was willing to try.
Alix folded the letter, sealed it with hot wax, and handed it to a maidservant before she could change her mind.
She hadn’t lied to him. Grandmama had tried to coerce her and Eddy into an engagement today, but while Eddy may have consented, Alix had never givenheragreement. She didn’t consider herself engaged—at least not yet.
And if Nicholas thought she was, then Alix needed to correct him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
May
MAY CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OFherself in the ballroom mirror and bit back a sigh. Like everything else at Balmoral, the evening attire seemed especially designed to show her at a disadvantage. Her red-and-black tartan, borrowed from the Balmoral stock, hung despondently over her shoulders, refusing to stay put despite the brooch May had pinned it with. Really, it was absurd of the queen to insist they dress like this; no one actually lookedgoodin tartan.
Except, of course, for Alix, who looked stunning in a soft blue pattern interwoven with navy and gray, which brought out the impossible blue of her eyes. No one else in the ballroom was wearing that print; it must have been the one she’d mentioned on the train, designed by her mother, Alice, for the Hessian branch of the family. May would have loved to take Alix up on her offer and borrow her extra—it would have been so much more flattering than this old, mothball-ridden one—but it didn’t feel right, making any demands on her budding friendship with Alix. Not after May had gossiped about Alix to Maud.
The ballroom was full to bursting. The guests, and all the neighbors from the nearby estates of Birkhall and Abergeldie,jostled for position with the castle’s staff: this was Queen Victoria’s annual Ghillies Ball, held at the end of every summer to thank the servants.
The final night of their visit, and May had nothing to show for her efforts toward Prince Eddy.
She couldn’t be sure whether Maud had spread word about Alix’s ailments, but if the queen had heard, the news clearly didn’t perturb her, because she kept throwing Eddy together with Alix. And as if that weren’t enough of an obstacle, Eddy seemed to have forgotten May’s existence altogether.
He never paid her more than the most cursory attention, his gaze constantly sliding over her as he searched for someone else. At first she’d assumed that someone was Alix, but after ten days of discreetly watching them, May was convinced that they didn’t care about each other. Their courtship had continued only from a sense of inertia, or obligation.
Still, there was something out of place about Eddy, a restlessness or emotion that May couldn’t quite identify. Just this morning while standing at her window, she’d seen him wander distractedly to the edge of the gardens, where he knelt down for a bright yellow flower and tucked it in his pocket. Perhaps he was plagued by money troubles, or an issue with his family? Given his ambivalence toward Alix, May doubted it was romance.
She stole another glance across the ballroom at Alix, who had drifted away from Eddy to stand alone. “Maud, shall we take a turn around the room?” May suggested, looping an arm through her cousin’s. Enormous iron candelabra hung overhead, their gas lamps casting the room in a cozy amber glow. May tried not to look at the boars’ and stags’ headsmounted above the ornate stone fireplace. Apparently they could never be removed, as they had all been shot by Prince Albert.
When they reached Alix, May smiled as brightly as she could. “Hello, Alix. Are you enjoying the dancing?”
“Oh yes! This is always my favorite night at Balmoral.”
It was a surprising statement from shy Alix, given the rambunctious atmosphere. The male servants in particular seemed indefatigable, hurtling through dance after dance with hoarse, rowdy cheers. Already two glasses had shattered on the floor. May suspected that the men were sneaking off to drink something stronger than the wine and sherry served by the queen.
