CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX #2
“There are many countries where our sovereignty is officially recognized,” Hélène pointed out. Just not in England. And, most importantly, not in France.
The queen didn’t seem to have heard. “I remember when your great-grandfather Louis Philippe fled France under the alias of ‘Mr. Smith,’ with his mustache shaved! Your family has had safe haven in my country ever since, though you’ve gone back and forth to France as the tides of political opinion have turned. ”
Didn’t Hélène know it. The Orléans had been exiled for two generations, then returned to France just after she was born, only to be exiled once more when she was fifteen. France never could make up its mind whether to welcome them or despise them.
“My country has a complicated history, but so does yours,” Hélène ventured. “We shouldn’t pretend that it never happened, but instead should recognize the ways we can learn from it. Isn’t that what monarchy is all about?”
“Learning from history?”
“Providing a living link between the nation’s past and its present, while also looking forward to its future.”
The queen’s eyes twinkled; she clearly liked that remark. “I am quite fond of you, and of your parents. But a match between a future king and the daughter of an exiled pretender…It poses a number of problems.”
Hélène knew what Victoria was trying to say. It was the very issue that had plagued Amélie during her marriage negotiations with Carlos—namely, that the family she married into could never quite be sure what they were getting, a princess or a nobody.
France had renounced its kings before, only to invite them to return on two different occasions. Hélène’s father might remain the Count of Paris his whole life, or he might sit on a throne again next year. The likelihood of each outcome depended on whom you asked.
“No matter which princess Eddy marries, you will inevitably offend those who weren’t chosen,” Hélène said carefully.
“I would hazard a guess that all your choices come with complications of some kind. And since the Church of England only permits one wife for each husband, you will be forced to make a decision as to which complications are least objectionable.”
“Albert would have liked you. He had the same habit of using logic against me.” Now Queen Victoria was definitely smiling. “You are right in claiming that none of the choices is without obstacle.”
“Perhaps they are all…How did His Royal Highness describe the swans? Insufferably dull.”
Queen Victoria snorted with suppressed laughter, and Hélène felt distinctly pleased with herself. Her guess had been right; she was the black swan. Ah well. There were worse things to be.
They passed a series of landscapes. The queen paused as if considering a painting of a shadowed forest, though Hélène could tell that she was thinking deeply.
Eventually, she looked back at Hélène with a sigh. “There remains the question of your religion.”
“I consent to raising my children in the Church of England,” Hélène said quickly.
Victoria’s expression didn’t change. “Surely you know that the Act of Settlement of 1701 forbids any Catholic, or person married to a Catholic, from ascending the throne. If Eddy were to wed a Catholic princess, he would be forced to give up his position in the line of succession.”
Hélène blinked. “I thought—”
“It would be different if you were marrying George, of course,” the queen went on. “But George does not share Eddy’s destiny. Only one of them is the future king.”
Hélène should have known that agreeing to raise her children Anglican wasn’t enough. “You’re saying that I must convert?”
“Now that would solve this conundrum!” Victoria exclaimed, as if she hadn’t been the one to suggest it. “Though I wouldn’t want you to take such a momentous step without consulting your conscience.”
Hélène bit her lower lip. All her life she had been a Catholic, had counted rosary beads in church and prayed to the Virgin Mary. Catholicism felt like a core part of her, as deep-rooted and familiar as her own name.
She weighed her faith against her love for Eddy, and there was simply no question.
“I will convert for him.” Her parents would be livid, but Hélène would deal with that later.
Feeling the slightest bit wicked, she added, “Will Your Majesty serve as my confirmation sponsor?”
Victoria chuckled at her boldness. “I would be delighted.”
Then, to Hélène’s shock, the queen looped an arm through hers and led them back in the direction they’d come, her cane apparently no longer needed.
“You are a breath of fresh air, Miss d’Orléans.
And to think you were under my nose this entire time!
I had never considered you before because of your father’s…
complicated position,” she said tactfully.
“Not to mention the question of religion. But if you are willing to make such a sacrifice for Eddy’s sake, then I have no choice but to give you my blessing. ”
Relief flooded Hélène’s chest. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
When they reentered the sitting room, Eddy was pacing by the window.
“Eddy, my dear,” the queen said warmly, “I find that I like your fiancée almost as much as you do.”
That word, fiancée, spoke volumes.
Eddy’s eyes widened, and he rushed toward them. “Grandmother! Does that mean we have your blessing?”
“Yes, but I’m not the only one you will need to convince.
Parliament must approve of your marriage as well.
Which means we need to start winning minds to our side.
Eddy, you must come over for tea soon with Arthur Balfour, Lord Salisbury’s nephew, and I’ll ask Emily Russell to get her husband involved… .”
We need to start winning minds, Victoria had said, as if she was now fully invested in their relationship. Indeed, she looked positively twenty years younger at the thought of taking on her Parliament.
Hélène met Eddy’s gaze and saw that he was smiling just as broadly as she was. It was really happening, she thought, in a dazed sort of wonder. They were getting married.
Which meant that Hélène was the future Queen of England.