There was movement around the rest of the table—people exchanging stories about hunting or fashion or ocean voyages, women clapping in delight, Uncle Bertie’s raucous laugh underpinning it all—but Nicholas held her gaze as steadily as if they were alone. Through the skirts of her gown, Alix felt his leg pressing against hers again. Not in a flirtatious way, but in something like support, or solidarity.
It felt like hesawher—really saw her, through the facade she showed the world, all the way to the insecurities and regrets that twisted like snakes at her core. He saw, and he wasn’t afraid. If anything, he understood.
AFTER THE DINNER CONCLUDED WITHa selection of iced chestnuts and orange wedges, the men retreated to the smoking room. Alix and the other ladies swept along to the card room, where a few of the older women poured discreet glasses of sherry. Princess Maud settled at the piano as usual, but Alix’s gaze traveled to her cousins Missy and Victoria Melita.
Victoria Melita—known by her childhood nickname Ducky, since there were a half dozen Victorias among the cousins—stood near the fireplace, her slippered foot impatiently tapping the floor. Her sister Missy seemed just as restless, repeatedly retying the sash of her gossamer pink gown.
“Missy, Ducky! It’s good to see you.” Alix pulled her cousins into an embrace.
“It has been far too long!” Missy agreed, then lowered her voice. “Ducky and I need your assistance with something. We have been begging Mama to let us go riding in Hyde Park, but she says we cannot. Even with a groom as an escort!”
“It is true that some women ride,” Alix admitted.LikePrincess Hélène.“But I usually go out in a carriage, if you’d like to join me?”
Missy gave a dramatic shudder that made her dark curls bounce. “I refuse to ride in a jostled, bumping carriage if I can be in the saddle instead!”
Alix couldn’t help smiling at that. There was something so disarming about Missy, the unguarded way expressions flitted across her face.
Meanwhile, Ducky watched Alix with a guarded curiosity. “It’s all right, Missy,” she said slowly. “When we go to St.Petersburg with Mama, Kiril and Boris will take us hunting.”
“You both go hunting? With the men?” Alix had seen how easily the sexes mingled in Russian society, yet she was still startled. Missy and Ducky were princesses twice over, granddaughters of the late Tsar Alexander and of Queen Victoria. They didn’t belong in the bloody chaos of a Russian boar hunt.
“Mother raised us more Russian than English,” Ducky replied with a shrug. “Speaking of Russia, Alix, is it truethat—”
“Ducky, stop distracting your cousin with idle gossip.” Missy and Ducky’s mother—Marie, Duchess of Edinburgh—swept forward.
Marie’s voice was low and husky, and even now, after all her years as a British duchess, retained a Russian accent. It was a distinctive voice, once as famous as her extravagant wardrobe. Years ago, when she had come to London as the bride of Queen Victoria’s second son, people had talked of nothing but her Romanov jewels and her gravelly voice.
Before her daughter could answer, Aunt Marie turned to Alix with a forced smile. “Alix, my dear, may I borrow you for a moment?”
“Of course,” Alix agreed, a bit surprised.
“Let us take a turn around the room.” Her aunt started off, giving Alix no choice but to follow.
Marie was silent for a while. She led Alix past the enormous watercolor that dominated one wall, past wooden credenzas topped with candles—though Marlborough House had gas lighting, they were all lit, because nothing could replace the ambience of a candelabrum. Only when she was halfway along the windows overlooking the garden did Aunt Marie speak.
“Since your dear mother is no longer with us, Alix, please forgive me for overstepping. But I need to ask what is going on between you and the tsarevich.”
“What do you mean?” Alix tried to sound innocent, but her aunt wasn’t fooled.
“Did you think your little trick with tonight’s seating would go unnoticed? Ducky clearly saw, and I doubt she’s the only one! Not to mention how much you and Nicholas havebeen out together recently,” Marie hissed. “I expect better behavior from a young woman who is engaged elsewhere, and if your mother were here, I know she would agree.”
Bringing in Alix’s dead mother as a negotiating tool was deeply unfair.
“If my mother were here,” Alix repeated angrily, “she would remind you not to spread unfounded gossip. I am not engaged to Prince Eddy, and I’m sorry that everyone seems to think otherwise.”
Aunt Marie made an impatient gesture. “Whatever is between you and Prince Eddy is none of my business. I just want tohelp,Alix. Nicholas is not someone to flirt with lightly.”
“I’m not just flirting.”
“I’m sorry, how else would you characterize your behavior: cavorting around London, making a fool of yourself?”
“Nicholas and I enjoy each other’s conversation,” Alix replied, stung.
“Conversation,is that all that’s happened? I hope you know it can’t go any further. Whatever promises he’s made to you, Nicky is not free to make them.”
“He hasn’t made any promises—”
“Well, that’s a relief—”
