May realized, a bit guiltily, that she hadn’t considered this from Alix’s perspective. “Surely you aren’t suggesting that I should tell her?”
“If not you, then who?” Agnes asked pointedly.
“It’s not my place!”
“Don’t you think she deserves to know? I thought you said that Alix was a romantic, and wanted to marry for love.”
“I don’t want to get involved! This is between Eddy and Alix.”
“But you already are involved! If you ignore this, then you’re making a choice on Alix’s behalf, without her consent,” Agnes said bluntly. “Don’t pretend that doing nothing frees you from any responsibility. Doingnothingis as much an action as doingsomething.”
Not to mention that if Alix found out about Hélène, it might end things between her and Eddy. Then, at least, May would be rid of one of her rivals.
It was a tempting prospect—but May thought of everything she’d already done to Alix, and shook her head.
“I’m done interfering in other people’s relationships. I tried it at Balmoral when I told Maud about Alix’s sickness, and it accomplished nothing.”
“I think you’re making a mistake,” Agnes insisted.
“That’s because you don’t understand how things operate here!” May snapped, more tersely than usual. “If I’m not careful, I could get a reputation as a gossip. No one wants to be known as the woman who’s always airing other people’s dirty laundry. It is so…tawdry. So low.”
Agnes drew in a sharp breath at the implication thatshewas tawdry and low. May winced, seeing the unmistakable pain in her friend’s bottle-green gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, but Agnes interrupted.
“No,I’msorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” Agnes gestured toward the terrace, where colorful Chineselanterns led down into the gardens. “I heard there might be fireworks later. Should we make our way outside?”
May nodded, though she still felt guilty. This was why she’d never managed a real friendship—because she didn’t know how to navigate the difficult conversations that came with letting someone in. Withtrustingsomeone.
But lately, May had lost so much: her chance at befriending Alix, the prospect of winning Prince Eddy. She was determined not to lose Agnes, too.
AN HOUR LATER, MAY STEPPEDinto the ballroom alone; Agnes’s mother had stolen her daughter away, hoping to introduce her to some of her new acquaintances. May was scanning the crowds for a friendly face—Princess Maud, perhaps—when she was startled by the approach of Prince George. She couldn’t place his costume; was he a Renaissance king, with those slashed sleeves and the ruff around his neck? He was wearing a crown, because of coursehewas exempt from the silent ban. You were allowed to dress as British royalty when you alreadywereBritish royalty.
“Good evening, May.” He wasn’t smiling, but there was a softness to his expression that gave the impression hewantedto smile.
“George—hello.” For some reason she didn’t curtsy the way she would have for Eddy. Not because George was the younger brother, but because she sensed it would put him ill at ease.
He surprised her by holding out a hand. “I was wondering if you’d like to dance?”
“With me?” May winced at her own clumsiness; what was wrong with her? “I just meant, after our dances at the Ghillies Ball, surely you don’t want to risk it. I’m afraid I stumbled all over your feet.”
“Those dances are a bit wild for my taste, too,” George admitted. “Which makes sense, given that they were inventedas a martial exercise.”
“Martial exercise?”
“Warriors used to perform them as training for battle. All that complicated footwork of the jigs? It traces back to swordplay.”
“That explains why I was so abysmal at it; I have no experience in swordplay.” May was surprised to hear how lighthearted her words came out, almost teasing. She placed her hand in his, and George led her onto the dance floor.
As the music started up, May realized with a flush of self-consciousness that it was a waltz. Waltzes were nowhere as scandalous as they once were—thirty years ago a young woman needed her parents’ permission before she could dance one—but it was still the most physical dance on offer. Unlike the quadrille or the minuet or any of the other assembly dances, a waltz required the gentleman’s hands to fully encircle his partner’s waist. And stay there.
In other words, the waltz was the perfect dance for sneaking a few illicit touches between lovers, especially on a crowded dance floor like this one, full of warm bodies in crushed proximity.
George’s hands settled a bit hesitantly over the green boning of her gown. “You make a wonderful Livia,” he mumbled.
“Livia?”
“The Roman empress—Octavian’s wife, deified after her death. She’s not your costume?”
