Chapter Eight May
Chapter Eight
May
May didn’t normally partake of the late-night meal at these events. Aside from the fact that it was too chaotic—drunk guests swaying down a buffet line while footmen ladled food from silver chafing dishes onto their plates—the food was far too heavy. Who wanted lobster in cream sauce at midnight?
Tonight, however, May had ventured into the loud hubbub of the dining room. Missy was in there somewhere. And May suspected that Missy was her best chance at getting close to the situation with Ducky and Eddy.
“Plotting how to eliminate your competition?” asked an unexpected voice. May turned, startled, to see Agnes Endicott.
As always, the American wore a gown that was excruciatingly, obviously new: an ivory broché satin with countless tiny pleats and ruchings. A diamond necklace settled over her collarbone, its stones refracting the light.
Following May’s gaze, Agnes gave a self-deprecating smile.
“I know, the necklace is a bit much; but Papa bought it for me, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him I can’t wear it.
At least it’s not a tiara,” she added. “You should have seen the ones the Vanderbilts are wearing in New York. Tiaras in a box, from Tiffany’s! ”
Those were May’s words, from the time Agnes had asked if she could purchase a tiara at a jewelry store. A true lady would never wear a tiara in a box, May had warned. If you don’t have a family tiara, better not to wear one at all.
It hurt, thinking of all the afternoons they had spent together in Agnes’s sitting room. Back when May was teaching Agnes the rules of society—when she’d thought they were friends.
“Is that where you’ve been all this time? New York?” May heard herself ask.
Agnes shrugged. “Chicago, and then New York. My grandfather died. We had to go back to settle his affairs.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” May said automatically, then drew back, recollecting herself. “Agnes, what are you doing here?”
“The Prince of Wales lost some money to Papa at baccarat, which Papa conveniently forgot to collect.” Before May could reply to that, Agnes reached for her hand and squeezed tight. “Don’t look, but she is here.”
Of course May looked. Striding into the dining room, arm in arm with the Tsarevich Nicholas, was Princess Hélène.
“She’s certainly trying to make a statement in that gown,” Agnes added disdainfully.
May tugged free of Agnes’s grip, though she couldn’t help but agree with her remark. “That is a rather bright shade of crimson. It almost reminds me of a military jacket.”
Agnes snorted. “If she’s trying to make us all stare, she’s succeeded. And she’s been with His Imperial Highness all night.”
May had noticed it, too: all the shameless dancing and flirting between Hélène and Nicholas.
Even now Hélène was beaming up at the tsarevich as if she’d never heard Eddy’s name.
It made May feel oddly relieved; she’d always felt slightly guilty about the blackmail Agnes had set in motion.
But Hélène clearly hadn’t loved Eddy the way she’d claimed to, if she had moved on to another prince—admittedly, the only prince in the world who was richer and more powerful than the Prince of England.
“What a hypocrite,” May couldn’t help muttering.
“Exactly.”
Agnes and May shared a look of understanding, almost amusement. Then Agnes said softly, “I miss you, May.”
Instantly May stiffened. “How can you miss me when our friendship wasn’t real? When you were using me the entire time?”
“I don’t see why both things can’t be true at once! I had my own goals, but I also really was your friend, and trying to help.”
May realized, with a sinking feeling, that it didn’t matter whether Agnes had really been her friend. All that mattered was that Agnes stayed silent. She knew what May had done, and that made her a liability. One that May needed to control.
“Perhaps I can help you someday,” May said slowly. “If my plans succeed, as you hoped, then I’ll be well positioned to introduce you to all manner of titled men.”
Agnes smiled. “I know! I can be useful to you, too; just let me know what you’re planning.”
“No, Agnes,” May said heavily. “Not after you violated my trust.”
Agnes’s eyes flashed with what might have been hurt, but then she shook out the flounces of her dress. “Very well. If you need me, you know where to find me.”
When her old friend had disappeared into the crowd, May scanned the room once more. She saw Missy on a fringed ottoman near the fireplace.
Fixing a smile on her face, May started toward her. On her way she lifted two flutes of champagne from a passing tray.
“Cheers,” she said brightly, and handed Missy one of the glasses.
Missy’s eyes lit up with excitement, though she hesitated. “Are you sure we’re allowed? Mama never lets me have any.”
“I promise that if your mother catches us, I will take the blame.”
To May’s relief, Missy propped one hand behind her on the ottoman, leaning back to take a long sip of the champagne.
She lowered the glass with a pleased sigh.
“Hopefully, Mama will be too distracted by all the eligible men to notice. You know how mothers can be when they want to marry you off. It’s exhausting, isn’t it? ” Missy rolled her eyes.
May fought to hide her irritation at Missy’s cluelessness. Didn’t she see that May was older, and far less eligible, and in possession of a mother who hadn’t helped her in the slightest?
“I know what you mean,” she forced herself to say. “Is there a gentleman in particular that we should name to your mother? Perhaps His Royal Highness Prince George?”
Missy was silent for a moment. May feared she’d overstepped, but then Missy drained the last of the glass and smiled. “George is wonderful. You know we used to see each other every year, when my family summered in Malta?”
If May hadn’t hated Missy already, she would have begun hating her now, for speaking with such casual affection about George. About their shared enchanted childhoods and how they’d summered on the Mediterranean.
She waved over a passing footman, who quickly refilled Missy’s champagne flute. “Do you and George have an understanding?”
“Oh, no! George is very private about his feelings.” Missy took a hearty sip from her newly full glass, then grinned wickedly. “Unlike some princes I know.”
“Really? Who?”
May winced; she’d sounded so eager she was almost shrill, but to her relief, Missy didn’t seem to notice. The other young woman’s cheeks were growing flushed. “You wouldn’t believe how obvious Ferdinand of Romania was. The last time my sister and I visited Munich, he was quite forward.”
“Really? What did he do?”
“Just followed me around all week like a puppy, talking about his hunting. He’s all brawn and brute force,” Missy added with a giggle.
“And you and your sister want to marry someone more…intellectual?” May was trying, in a roundabout way, to steer the conversation toward the point of interest—toward Ducky.
Missy tittered again. “I’m not sure Ducky would mind brawn and brute force. You should see Kiril’s muscles. He’s so broad-shouldered; I imagine that he could rip a tree from its roots. With his bare hands.”
Kiril. The name was familiar…. Hadn’t Missy mentioned him at the baptism, in connection with Ducky? Little alarm bells went off in May’s mind.
“Missy!”
Before May could ask anything more, Ducky swept forward, plucking the champagne from her sister’s grasp. “That’s enough for you, I think.”
Missy shook her head, a bit too emphatically. The pearl droplets in her ears swayed with the movement. “As if you have any right to talk, Ducky! I saw you sneaking cigarettes in St. Petersburg, not to mention that I never told Mother you were alone with—”
“That’s enough,” Ducky snapped.
It didn’t matter; May could have finished the sentence on her own. With Kiril.
An idea began to coalesce in her mind: an outrageous, farfetched, completely absurd idea.
“Why don’t we go get some air,” May suggested.
Ducky shot her a grateful look, and each of them took one of Missy’s arms, leading her forcibly through the room and onto the terrace.
May waited until they were near the iron railing, far enough from any other guests to be overheard. Then she looked at Ducky. “Missy told me about you and Kiril.”
Ducky’s eyes widened, and she whirled angrily on her sister. “How could you?”
Missy winced. “I only remarked upon his muscles. I never said that you two—”
“I promise, your secret is safe with me. I want to help,” May assured Ducky, before Missy could say something worse. Really, that girl needed to learn how to hold her tongue, even after a glass of champagne or two.
“Help?” Ducky barked out a humorless laugh. “Are you visiting Russia soon, and offering to slip Kiril a note?”
“I can help here. With your situation regarding Prince Eddy,” May explained.
“Good luck with that. Grandmama has decided that Eddy and I will marry, and so we shall. How in the world can I get out of it?” Ducky asked bitterly.
“Alix of Hesse got out of the very same engagement. She didn’t want to marry Eddy, either.”
Ducky gave May a long, searching look. “I see,” she said at last. “You want to be in contention for Eddy yourself.”
May didn’t correct her. Out on the lawn, guests still drifted in and out of the white tent, which seemed to emit a ghostly glow in the moonlight.
Ducky’s hands fell to her sides. “I appreciate your help, truly, but I don’t see how I can avoid this engagement. There’s no telling Grandmama no.”
May nodded. “You cannot tell her no, but Eddy can. He needs to call it off.”
“And how am I to accomplish that?” Ducky demanded. “Just walk up to him and politely say I don’t wish to marry him? Even if he felt the same way, well…word would get around. It would destroy me,” Ducky added helplessly.
Of course it would. A single woman could never admit to not wanting to marry a man, let alone a future king.
“You’ll have to be more circumspect,” May agreed. “You’ll pretend to go along with the engagement, but when you are with Eddy, you will undermine your own cause. Make yourself unattractive in his eyes.”
To her immense relief, Ducky seemed to be considering this unprecedented suggestion. “You mean that I should sabotage the engagement?”
“I suppose so, yes.”
“And how exactly would I do that?”
May started to reply, but Ducky and Missy’s mother stepped out onto the terrace. “Girls! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“We’ll talk soon,” May promised, as the Coburg sisters followed their mother back inside.
May leaned against the railing, lost in thought. Agnes would be amused by this plan, but of course May couldn’t tell Agnes. She couldn’t tell anyone, could keep no counsel but her own. The stakes were simply too high.
From now on, May worked alone. Which was just fine with her.
Other people had always proven a disappointment, anyway.