“And you would have me.”
Alix looked up in surprise, and her aunt smiled. “I don’t live in Russia, of course, but I am still a daughter of that court. You’ll need me when trying to navigate its twists and pitfalls.”
“Are you saying that you’ll help?”
“I’m saying that you need all the help you can get. Even if you can get Her Majesty to approve the match, which would take some doing, Sasha will be harder to win over.”
It was jarring, hearing Nicholas’s father, the Tsar of All the Russias, referred to by a childhood nickname. But then, Marie was his sister.
“Thank you,” Alix said fervently. “I am so, so very grateful.”
“What can I say? I have a weakness for romance, in spite of everything,” Marie said firmly. “And don’t thank me just yet. You have a long road ahead of you.”
“I know,” Alix agreed.
Then she thought of Nicholas—of his steadiness, his warmth, the way his eyes lit up when he smiled—and her fears disappeared like morning mist burned off by the sun.
Alix knew one thing for certain: she loved him. And it was as the Bible said: love hoped all things, endured all things, believed all things.
She could hope and endure and believe anything, if it meant she had a future with Nicholas.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Hélène
“ARE YOU CERTAIN THIS ISa good idea?” Hélène whispered to Eddy, as their carriage pulled up to Buckingham Palace. He had explained the purpose of today’s meeting, and the rather disconcerting fact that Her Majesty was expectingAlix,not Hélène.
Somehow Hélène doubted that the queen would take kindly to the last-minute change in leading lady.
“We were going to need Grandmother’s permission eventually,” Eddy insisted. “I know it’s risky, springing everything on her like this. But it’s also our best shot.”
The butler who greeted them cast Hélène a curious glance, but said nothing as he led them upstairs. It felt like they passed through endless corridors, a series of doors opening soundlessly before them until they finally paused before Her Majesty’s personal sitting room.
The butler rapped on the heavy wooden door. “Your Majesty, His Royal Highness Prince Albert Victor—”
Oh no,Hélène thought, but it was too late; he announced her too.
“—and Miss Hélène d’Orléans.”
It was a bit galling to be announced that way, but her royalstatus wasn’t officially recognized in England, no matter how often people referred to her as a princess.
The door swung open and there was Victoria, seated in a stiff-backed chair and wearing her customary black gown and white widow’s cap. At the sight of Hélène, her lips pursed; then she deliberately turned to her grandson.
“Eddy, thank you for coming to see me. Where is dear Alix?”
Though she hadn’t been acknowledged, Hélène sank into her most reverential curtsy and stayed there, frozen like a statue, until her knees felt like they might lock.
Eddy stepped forward. “I am sorry that I didn’t send word, but Alix is not joining us today. I asked Hélène to come instead.”
“And what are you doing here, Miss d’Orléans?”
“I am the one who begged her to come; it was all my idea,” Eddy interjected, with surprising ardor. “Please, Grandmother, there is something Hélène and I are desperate to discuss with you.”
Victoria nodded imperceptibly in Hélène’s direction, which Hélène took as permission to stand.
Eddy walked over to his grandmother and sank to one knee, bowing his head like an Arthurian knight. “Hélène and I are in love, and have come to ask for your blessing on our marriage.”
“Your marriage?” Now the queen’s voice was distinctlycold.
