Chapter Fifteen Alix
Chapter Fifteen
Alix
Alix gripped tight to the side of the small boat, trying to ignore the choppy sensation as they skimmed over the waves. Why had she agreed to go out into the harbor with Eddy and May?
Of course, she knew precisely why. She was hoping for a glimpse of Nicholas, however brief.
That morning at breakfast, Uncle Bertie had asked Eddy if he wouldn’t mind picking up a few guests from the royal yacht.
Alix had immediately offered to join him.
Seeing her grandmother’s curious glance—the queen probably thought Alix was romantically inclined toward Eddy again, though she had never actually felt that way in the first place—Alix had mumbled something about wanting to see the yacht club from the water. As if she cared about that.
“I’d love to come, too, if that’s all right,” May had ventured, glancing tentatively at Eddy. Alix had nearly rolled her eyes at May’s painfully obvious flirtation. She’d looked over at George, wondering if he would offer to join, too, but he had just stared down at his plate.
Now, the wind tore at Alix’s hat, making its blue ribbon snap out behind her. Eddy was navigating their little motorboat through the harbor, assisted by a sailor in a crisp white uniform, while the two young women perched on wooden seats at the front.
Alix had expected May to keep up a steady stream of chatter, but she was silent, as if reluctant to bother Eddy.
The yachts rose up around them like sleeping beasts.
Alix recognized Leopold of Belgium’s, and her cousin Wilhelm’s, and a few gleaming white hulls of new American yachts.
Farthest from shore was the Victoria and Albert II, where Uncle Bertie was currently hosting a number of guests.
“Oh, look, the Romanov boat!” May pointed to a yacht marked with Cyrillic writing.
Alix reached up to adjust her hat, trying to hide the sudden, obvious joy she felt at simply being near Nicholas. She felt Eddy glancing at her; he knew about Alix and Nicholas, since she had told him last year.
When Nicholas stepped out onto the deck, Alix’s smile broadened.
He didn’t see their boat, and she was loath to cause a scene by shouting hello.
So she allowed herself a decadent moment of simply watching him: drinking in the strong lines of his body, the impatient, eager way he moved.
In just a moment he would catch sight of them, and then he would insist that they all come aboard for a cup of coffee.
Inevitably, someone would ask for a tour—and then he and Alix might find a chance to slip away, down to his room, where he would tug at the strings of her gown, his lips on hers… .
She flushed and looked down, though she was unable to stop smiling.
Hopefully, no one had guessed the content of her daydreams. Oh, she was wanton, and she couldn’t even bring herself to care.
Her whole body still tingled with joy from the previous night.
Alix knew that after what they had done, she was supposed to feel guilty, but she simply didn’t regret it.
Even more shocking, she knew that she would be with Nicholas again the next chance she got.
“Look how happy those two are together!” May leaned toward Alix as if exchanging girlish gossip, but she spoke loud enough for Eddy to hear. “From what I’ve heard, we can expect an engagement announcement any day now!”
Alix looked back up at the Polar Star. Hélène had emerged and was talking to Nicholas. Hélène was turned away from their little boat, so Alix couldn’t see her face; but even from this distance she could tell that Nicholas was looking at Hélène with concern.
“I think the news of an engagement is just a rumor,” Alix replied, as calmly as she could.
Eddy had not spoken, but his eyes were fixed on the two figures.
And then, as everyone in the motorboat watched, Nicholas stepped forward and pulled Hélène into a hug.
Next to her, May let out a false laugh. “I see now why Hélène claimed a stomachache and left the party early last night!”
No, Alix wanted to cry out. Hélène and Nicholas had left the party early so that Nicholas could be alone with her, not with Hélène. But of course, she couldn’t very well correct May’s rather presumptuous statement—not without admitting her own lack of virtue.
As Alix watched, Nicholas’s uncle emerged onto the deck, smiling in unmistakable approval. And there were Hélène’s parents, seeming equally delighted by this turn of events.
Eddy was completely still. Finally, his voice gravelly, he said, “We need to get back to shore.”
May tilted her head. “But the guests on the Victoria and Albert II—”
“They can find their own damned boat. We’re going back,” Eddy snapped, and May didn’t argue again.
No one seemed to notice that Alix hadn’t spoken.
It’s just a charade, she kept telling herself. Hélène had probably been upset over Eddy, and Nicholas had stepped forward to comfort her, and it meant nothing more than that. And yet…it was impossible not to see how well he and Hélène fit together, how totally at ease they were with each other.
Or how supportive their families were.
Alix’s eyes were still fixed on Nicholas and Hélène even as Eddy sped their boat toward the yacht club.
They were a striking pair, she had to admit: both tall and dark-haired, with aristocratic good looks.
They even moved the same. It was something in the tilt of their heads, the absolute command of their gazes.
You could see centuries of dynasty reflected in their every gesture.
It wasn’t something that could be taught; it had to be bred into you, absorbed from your parents the moment you drew your first breath.
Hélène’s family had been rulers since before the Crusades, even if they no longer sat on a throne. Alix felt provincial and quaint by comparison.
But that wasn’t what hurt the most.
Watching them, Alix realized that she would never get to behave with Nicholas as Hélène was: to walk with him arm in arm, share all his dances, hold him close while his family beamed in approval.
All she would ever get was what she had now.
Stolen moments when he snuck away from a party, illicit whispers on the dance floor for a single, precious dance.
Since the moment he’d arrived in London, Alix had been too swept up in the joy of seeing him to question what they were doing. But now, the reality of their situation hit her as it hadn’t before.
She would never get permission to marry Nicholas. His parents would never look at her the way Vladimir had looked at Hélène.
Alix blinked as they pulled up to the yacht club. Sailors bounded toward their boat, tethering it to the dock, holding out a hand to help her and May ashore.
Eddy leapt out of the boat without a goodbye and marched with bold, angry strides up the lawn. Every line of his body screamed outrage and hurt.
Oh no. Alix wasn’t sure what he thought, exactly—did he assume that Hélène had left him for Nicholas? That she had seen a greater opportunity than Queen of England and leapt at it? Whatever conclusions he’d drawn, they were based on a misunderstanding.
Alix wasn’t sure what he was about to do, but she knew that she needed to stop him. Forget Hélène’s admonitions about keeping him in the dark; she would race after him, grab his shoulders, and tell him not to worry, that Hélène and Nicholas were just playacting.
That he and Hélène still had a shot, even if Alix was no longer sure that was true for her and Nicholas.
“Eddy!” Alix grabbed her white linen skirts in both hands and stumbled after him, ignoring the glances of fellow guests. “Eddy, wait!”
He paused, but not for Alix’s sake. He had reached their grandmother.
Queen Victoria was the most visible person on the whole shore, dressed as always in black, which was glaring amid the sea of festive summer whites.
Guests spilled out of the clubhouse’s deck toward the water, clutching flutes of champagne or tumblers of whiskey despite the morning hour.
Everyone wore airy blouses or cream-colored dresses, spotless white suits with matching top hats.
Alix watched as Eddy leaned over and murmured something in their grandmother’s ear.
The queen looked at him in surprise and asked a question Alix couldn’t make out.
Eddy nodded once, fiercely, then bowed a curt goodbye and started up the hill.
He disappeared through one of the doors of the clubhouse, a clapboard structure with a gabled roof.
Alix hurried to follow. She couldn’t say why, but she felt like she needed to stop whatever action he’d just set in motion.
The clubhouse was empty; everyone had gone outside to watch the races. Alix wandered past a room with leather furniture and nautical flags on the walls. In one corner was an old wooden steering wheel, so big it looked like it had come from a pirate ship.
She found a corridor and turned, heading toward the telltale clatter of pots that signified a kitchen. The servers would know where to look, she thought; at the very least they could direct her to the bar. That’s where Eddy was headed, right? To get a drink?
Alix paused halfway down the hall. There was a single door to her right. At first glance she’d thought it was a closet, but she heard noises inside, so maybe it wasn’t a closet at all.
Alix threw open the door. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dimness and register what she was seeing.
It was indeed a closet, and her brother Ernie was inside—with their footman, Johann.
They were kissing.