No, she would never forgive herself if she let Eddy renounce his future for her sake. And if he couldn’t be king while they were together…then they would have to part ways.
“I’m sorry,” she told him, the words catching in her throat. “But no.”
“What do you mean, ‘but no’?”
“I mean that I cannot marry you! My decision is final; please just let me be. I am going inside now.” Hélène’s entire body thrummed with grief and anger, her throat closing in a chokehold of helpless rage. “Don’t follow me.”
He fell silent at the finality of her words. That was the Frenchwoman in her, too, Hélène thought sadly: not just the passion and impulsivity but the brutal stubbornness. The ability to face hard truths that a demure Englishwoman would have ignored.
She hurried away before she could see the look of utter heartbreak on Eddy’s face.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
May
THE MORNING OF SOPHIE ANDTino’s wedding dawned bleary and cold. What else did one expect from a November wedding in Athens, May thought, as she tugged aside the damask curtains to stare out the window.
She and her parents were staying at the home of the Kallergis family: wealthy and influential Athenians who were only too happy to host a few stray guests, hoping to curry favor with the king and queen. May’s father had been grumbling all week about the perceived insult. If they weren’t going to be housed in the palace, he complained, they should at least be with a noble family and not a bunch of upstart politicians. In his mind, a politician was about as important as a butler, and far less useful.
But they were here for the wedding, and that was what mattered. May still couldn’t believe she’d convinced her father that they should come—though of course he was unaware that she’d had any role in his decision. She had made a point of discussing the wedding in front of their driver, emphasizing thateveryonewould be there—trusting that Charles would let the gossip find its way to his master, as a good servant always did. Then, risky as it was, she’d asked Maud ifher father might be willing to check in. She knew that status-obsessed Francis of Teck wouldn’t ignore a note from the Prince of Wales.
Sure enough, when Uncle Bertie sent a note asking if the Tecks were coming to Athens, Francis had decided that, yes, they would attend. He announced this fact to May and her mother as if it had been his own idea. As if he hadn’t been nudged there by May’s careful planning.
At a knock on the door, May looked up in surprise. It had been so long since they’d had a house full of staff, she’d forgotten the cadence of it. “Yes?”
“Miss?” The lady’s maid bobbed a quick curtsy. Her English was piecemeal, but it was still better than May’s nonexistent Greek. “There is a young woman here, she says to seeyou?”
“Really?” Curiosity piqued, May gestured for the maid to help her into her gown, a gorgeous one of midnight blue trimmed with sable. It was a castoff from Agnes, but still far more beautiful than anything her parents would have purchased.
When she hurried down the stairs, May was oddly unsurprised to see Agnes standing there, looking resplendent in a gown of orange and gold. With her glittering jewelry and rust-colored cape, she looked like a sunrise come to life.
May ran a hand reflexively over her own dress, and Agnes’s eyes flickered in recognition.
“That gown looks better on you than it ever did on me. I’m glad you took it off my hands,” she said gently.
May hesitated. She’d been ignoring Agnes ever since their conversation about Hélène, when she’d learned about theletter Agnes had tricked Laurent into writing. Her friend had sent a flurry of notes in the weeks leading up to the wedding, notes that May had steadfastly refused to answer.
Now that Agnes was here before her, May found that shestill didn’t know what to say.
“I can’t talk; I need to leave for the wedding soon,” she mumbled, but Agnes leapt at her words.
“I know! I wanted to ask if I could give you a ride to the cathedral. Lisette is with me, so there’s no need to worry about a chaperone. Please,” she insisted. “There are things we need to talk about.”
May certainly didn’t condone all the digging Agnes had done into Hélène. Yet she found herself wanting to believe that Agnes had, in her own way, meant well. She’d been misguided and heavy-handed, but hadn’t she been trying to help?
“Just wait a moment,” she decided. Upstairs, May collected her cloak and gloves before telling the lady’s maid that she would meet her parents at the wedding.
Lisette was seated on the back of the Endicotts’ carriage, like a postilion, enabling the young women to speak privately inside. May would normally have felt sorry for her, but the maid was bundled against the cold in a heavy coat, her hands tucked into a fur muff that was clearly a hand-me-down from Agnes.
May slid inside, and a moment later they started off, bridles jangling as the horses pulled into the street.
“How was your journey?” Agnes said uncertainly, into the silence.
“Fine.” Reflexively, May added, “And yours?”
“It was lovely. Have you ever seen Corfu? Apparently theWaleses were there just before us, on the royal yacht—theMarine,I think it’s called.”
TheNerine,May wanted to correct. It was the Greek word for “sea nymph.” Not that she’d been on it; she’d never been on a yacht at all, let alone the one belonging to the queen. Whenever her family traveled it was by train or, worse, by carriage.
