“Then you’ll need to be twice as persuasive as she was!BegGrandmama for her permission on bended knee. I mean that literally, not as a figure of speech,” Alix clarified.
Eddy sat there for a moment, digesting her words. Then he shook his head in slow admiration. “It just might work.”
“You could go on Monday,” Alix suggested, thinking of the appointment that she and Eddy already had with the queen. “Grandmama is expecting to discuss your marriage, after all. Just bring Hélène instead of me.”
Eddy lifted an eyebrow, skeptical. “You don’t think Grandmother will be angry? I doubt she likes being ambushed.”
“There is a fine line between an ambush and an impassioned plea, as long as you stick to the romantic script.” Alix suspected that Grandmama might actually respond well to the spontaneity of it all—to the notion that Eddy was showing initiative, taking decisive action.
“It’s worth a shot, if nothing else. Alix…” The prince’s eyes met hers, as earnest as she’d ever seen them. “Thankyou.”
How odd that this conversation—where they were putting an end to things between them, once and for all—was the most relaxed Alix had ever been with Eddy.
He must have been thinking along the same lines, because he smiled. “I’m glad you came to see me today. And no matter what happens, I hope that we can stay friends.”
Friends.It was a strange way for things to end, after their almost-engagement had dragged on for so long, yet it felt right.
“Friends,” Alix agreed. “I would like that very much.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
May
IT WAS ONE OF THOSEglorious autumn days when the sun felt as high and warm as summer, but with a hint of the coming winter in the wind that tugged at May’s hair. The air was filled with the jangle of bridles and the crunch of wheels over gravel. Five o’clock on a Sunday—the peak time to see and be seen at Hyde Park, with all the sporting gigs and broughams looping through the ring, men on horseback weaving around the carriages at a crisp trot.
The first time May had brought Agnes here, her friend hadn’t understood; apparently there was no such social hour in the parks of Chicago. But Agnes quickly came to realize that Hyde Park was like an outdoor ballroom. Rotten Row was really just one long parade where society showed itselfoff.
A group of men on horseback cantered into view, and May immediately sat up straighter. They weren’t just society, but the peak of society—the princes Eddy and George, with their cousins, the Tsarevich Nicholas and Prince Constantine of Greece. A pair of grooms trotted behind them, dressed in the livery of Marlborough House.
“I’m so glad you suggested we come out today,” Agnes murmured, following May’s gaze.
May could only nod. Her heart had leapt strangely at the sight of George; she hadn’t seen him since the Cadogans’ ball.
“It’s remarkable how much the tsarevich looks like Their Royal Highnesses,” Agnes went on, her eyes flicking to the group of young princes and then away again.
“Theyarecousins,” May said absently. Really, the most striking resemblance was between Nicholas and George. Eddy’s coloring was fairer, his build slimmer, while George and the tsarevich shared the same chestnut hair and deep blue eyes, the same broad torso and square jaw.Theywere the ones who looked like brothers.
As May was pondering this, a gust of wind tugged her hat loose and sent it billowing into the breeze.
“Oh no!” she cried out, unthinking. The hat was her favorite: a gift from Agnes, made of navy felt and trimmed in deep blue feathers.
“By all means, you must go retrieve it. You look far too fetching in that hat to lose it,” Agnes remarked. There was a funny note to her voice, but May was too preoccupied to fully register it.
She hesitated for an instant, because young women typically didn’t leap down from their carriages in the middle of Hyde Park, but the sight of the hat careening toward the pond decided her. May wasn’t Agnes; she didn’t have enough beautiful things to give one up without a fight. She quickly slid out of her seat and began running in the direction the hat had disappeared, down the bright green slope of the lawn. This section of the park was clearly not intended for foot traffic—the grass was untended and wild—but May’s crinolines protected her legs from getting too scratched.
“May!” a voice behind her called. It took a moment for May to register the pounding of hoofbeats.
She turned in surprise, lifting a hand to shade her eyes. George had come after her, still mounted on his dappled gray horse.
“You didn’t have to follow me.” May immediately longed to swallow back the words; she hadn’t meant to make George feel unwanted. “I just feel a little silly, losing my hat like this.”
“One of the hazards of Hyde Park,” George said generously, because they both knew it wasn’t a typical occurrence. He vaulted down from his horse with surprising ease, looping the reins around a branch before starting down the slope toward May. “Do you know where the hat ended up?”
May pointed to the edge of the pond, where it was curled in a sodden heap, the dark blue ribbon trailing over a lily padin a pitiful gesture of surrender.
George nodded. “I’ll fetch it for you.”
“Are you sure?” The water looked brackish, a few beetles hopping over its surface.
