CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Alix
THE NEXT MORNING, ALIX STUDIED Eddy across the breakfast table.
He tucked heartily into a Scottish breakfast—eggs, smoked haddock, roasted tomatoes—while deep in conversation with his father.
From the sound of things, they hoped to ride out hunting later this morning with Louise and her husband, who were hosting a small party down the road at Mar Lodge.
Alix wondered what Eddy thought of their prospective engagement. They hadn’t discussed it, not even after that awful fake wedding.
For her part, she’d half forgotten that they were supposed to be courting, until she arrived back in England at the start of the summer.
It wasn’t as if she and Eddy had been assiduous correspondents.
What was she going to write him about—the blankets she’d helped stitch for the local hospital, her thoughts on the various books she’d read?
Those were things she would have loved to share with Nicholas, if they were in the habit of exchanging letters.
When she’d finished Le roman du prince Eugène, her fingers had itched to write the tsarevich and ask if he’d read it—the novel raised so many questions about family, about how to respect your parents while still escaping the shadow they cast.
Of course, she didn’t dare write to him. They hadn’t spoken since that almost kiss, or whatever it was, the night of the bal noir.
“What is everyone planning for today?” George asked, glancing around the table.
“Maud and I were just saying that we’d love to sit in the garden and work on our cross-stitching,” May declared. “Alix, will you be joining us?”
“I will be riding out to Glassalt Shiel this morning, and would like some company,” the queen cut in, before Alix could reply.
Everyone stared down at their plates or out the window, like children willing a schoolteacher not to call on them.
Most of the queen’s family considered her carriage rides unbearably tedious.
She went out every day, no matter the weather, stopping at various places of interest on the Balmoral property or delivering gifts to nearby farmers.
Occasionally she ventured into the neighboring town, where she would purchase sweetmeats or a new quill pen from the flustered clerk at the general store.
“Alix, you will come, won’t you?”
Despite the phrasing, there was no mistaking the queen’s words for anything but a command.
Alix stole a guilty glance at Maud and May, who had so obviously been excluded from the invitation.
She wished she could explain how much she hated it when Grandmama played favorites. It seemed particularly unfair to May.
“Eddy,” Victoria added, and he looked up, squirming. “You will join us.”
Alix tried not to let her dismay show. First the onstage wedding, and now this?
“I was supposed to ride out with Louise and her party—you know, Ivo and Caroline, and Hélène d’Orléans….” At the look in the queen’s eyes, Eddy faltered. “But of course, they shall be fine hunting without me.”
“Then it’s settled.” The queen stood, and everyone quickly bobbed up like puppets and pushed back their chairs. It would seem that breakfast was over.
Half an hour later, Alix, Eddy, and the queen climbed into an open carriage, as if Victoria were willfully daring the overcast skies to rain on her. To Alix’s relief, no one spoke much on the drive uphill.
If anyone had been around to see them, their party would have made a strange sight: the queen forbidding in all black, Alix at her side in a blue dress with full sleeves, Eddy in an olive hunting jacket and matching cap.
The horses were groomed to such a sheen that they seemed to glow in the ambient Scottish light, as if they were parading through Belgravia and not alone in the Highlands.
Alix tried her best to enjoy their surroundings. This was the Balmoral she loved: the shade-dappled forest, its ancient trees lined in moss. The air was heavy with woodsmoke and the cool, clean scent of the river.
But it was hard to focus on Scotland’s natural beauty in such tight quarters, with Eddy’s knees periodically brushing against hers.
“I have been waiting for the two of you to ask me for a private audience,” Grandmama said at last. “Yet you remain maddeningly silent. Do you not have any news to share?”
Alix’s heart thudded, and she glanced at Eddy.
“Grandmother, we are still courting,” he began, but the queen cut him off with an impatient gesture.
“You’ve been courting all year—what more is there to learn about each other? I invited you to Balmoral for the express purpose of aiding said courtship, yet you’ve spent no time together at all! Even when I wrote you a sketch where you got married onstage!”
Well, at least the queen had admitted the motives behind last night’s shameless theatricals.
Alix leaned forward. “I’m sure I speak for Eddy when I say that we need more time.” She wasn’t actually sure she spoke for Eddy at all, but it was hard to catch his gaze, and she felt the need to say something.
“Time is the one thing we no longer have! I’m not exactly getting any younger!”
Alix drew in a sharp breath, reaching for her grandmother’s hand. “Why do you say that, Grandmama? Is there an issue with your health?”
“Of course there is! I’m an old woman! I might drop dead at any moment!”
In other words, no. Alix should have known that her grandmother was fit as a fiddle.
“Eddy,” Victoria said angrily. Alix noted that his hands were closed tight around his knees, his neck muscles straining. “I cannot let you leave the succession undecided any longer. I want to see my great-grandchild before I die!”
At the mention of children, Eddy looked like he’d been hit by a dash of cold water. His eyes lifted to Alix, but she got the unnerving sense that he wasn’t seeing her at all—that he was thinking of someone else. “I’m sorry, but Alix and I haven’t discussed this.”
“That’s why I’m insisting you discuss it now. You are the future king, and you have a duty to marry!” Victoria rounded on Alix. “As for you, your mother was my daughter, a princess of Great Britain! You have duties to this country, too!”
Alix’s throat felt dry. “Grandmama, we have much to think about—”
“What on earth is there to think about? No princess could dream of a better marriage than to the British throne! All that’s left is for you to propose”—she told Eddy, then turned expectantly to Alix—“and for you to accept. Once that’s settled, we can plan a wedding for next summer.”
“Next summer?” Eddy repeated.
“Yes, and then hopefully Alix will have given us another future king within the year!”
Alix had always known this was what princesses were meant for: that their aspirations were supposed to begin with marriage and end at motherhood.
That they were nothing but beautiful, well-bred vessels meant to bear beautiful, well-bred heirs.
But hearing her grandmother say it so explicitly made a new resentment simmer in her chest, like rising steam.
“Very well,” Victoria declared, when it was clear that neither of them would say anything.
“If you won’t do it, then I’ll manage the whole thing for you.
I propose marriage in Eddy’s name, and Alix, I accept on your behalf.
Congratulations!” She reached for both their hands, tugging them together until Alix’s gloved palm was pressed against Eddy’s.
“We can notify the papers when we return to London, start planning some joint events for you two. Why don’t you go to the Cadogans’ ball together next month? ”
Alix stared numbly at their intertwined hands, struck by the utter strangeness of touching Eddy like this.
“No.” Eddy spoke with surprising determination, pulling his hand away. “We can’t make an announcement.”
“We cannot make an announcement yet,” Queen Victoria corrected. “I will let you delay the news, as long as you assure me that you’re going through with the marriage.”
Eddy’s eyes were dark with emotion, something quiet and profound that Alix had never seen in him before. It made her realize just how little she knew him.
And perhaps that wasn’t entirely his fault.
“I ask that you wait a month. There are some…there are things I need to sort out before this news becomes public,” Eddy said softly.
He was talking about another woman, wasn’t he?
Alix knew she should care, but she was too bewildered by the speed at which things were progressing: the fact that Eddy had just agreed, at least implicitly, to marry her.
Were they engaged? She hadn’t said yes, but this was hardly a typical proposal.
Eddy hadn’t gotten down on one knee, hadn’t even been the one to ask her.
“Very well. We shall wait a month,” Queen Victoria agreed, her lips pursed in disapproval.
They rumbled on for several more minutes, the excruciating silence broken only by the clatter of the horses’ hooves. Alix gripped tight to the side of the carriage to keep from accidentally being jostled against Eddy.
When the pointed stones of the prince consort’s cairn came into view, Alix found her voice. “I thought we were going to Glassalt Shiel.”
“Change of plans. We shall pay our respects to Albert first.” Her grandmother waited until they had drawn to a halt before letting the coachman help her out. Eddy started to disembark, but the queen shook her head. “Eddy, you stay. Alix will accompany me alone.”
Apprehension twisted in Alix’s stomach. She half wished that Eddy would insist on remaining with them, if only to have another voice protesting this engagement, but he just nodded and crossed his arms, his expression dark.
The queen reached for Alix’s hand, leaning on her granddaughter in place of a cane as they made their way to Prince Albert’s cairn.