And that wasbeforeshe’d realized that Alix knew about them.
“Eddy, we need to talk,” Hélène said heavily.
The change that came over him was swift and awful: his eyes darkened, his body tensed with anxiety. “Who toldyou?”
“What?” she asked, confused.
“Never mind.” Seeming relieved, Eddy nodded toward a doorway that led to an alcove: an extension of the gallery, technically speaking, but no one had ventured in there because the walls weren’t hung with the Princess of Wales’s portraits. It was half-lit and empty and certainly not where a young woman should walk with a prince unchaperoned.
Hélène nodded, letting Eddy lead her into the shadowed silence.
When they were alone, he spun her around to face him. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured gruffly.
“Me too.”
Even though she shouldn’t, Hélène let herself nestle closer. When Eddy lowered his mouth to hers, she kissed him automatically, unthinkingly.
Then she tore away and took a step back.
“Eddy—did you tell Alix about us?”
The shock on his face was genuine. “Of course not.”
“If you didn’t tell her, then someone did. She knows. Her exact words were, ‘I wish you had been more discreet’!”
“I trust Jonathan, and you said that Violette would never betray you. Who else knows?”
“No one! But maybe Alix saw us together at Balmoral, or figured it out somehow?”
“We’ve been careful—”
“Not careful enough!” Hélène shook her head. “All I know is that she just confronted me, accused me of betraying her trust.”
Eddy had the grace to look deeply uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I can speak to her if you like.” He sounded like he would rather go into battle unarmed.
Hélène remembered what he’d said earlier—Who told you?—and a horrible, sinking feeling seized her in its grip.
“What is the exact nature of things between you and Alix?”
His expression fell, confirming her worst fears. Her throat closed up, and she wanted to scream, but somehow, impossibly, she held his gaze. “Are you engaged?”
The bleak truth was written on his face. She nodded and turned away, but Eddy caught her wrist in his grip.
“Hélène, please! Don’t leave me because of who I am—because of what’s expected of me.”
She tugged her hand away, stung. “Congratulations. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”
“You must know that I don’t want to—”
“It’s quite all right; you don’t owe me any explanation.” Her words were wooden, stilted with formality. “We both knew this would end eventually.”
“No,” he said swiftly. “Nothing has to change. We can continue just as before!”
“Until when? Until you aremarried?” Hélène challenged. “What are you going to do, sleep with Alix for an heir and then come to my bed straight from hers?”
He winced at her bluntness. “We could find a way to make things work.”
“Alix would hate us for it.”
