Chapter Sixteen May #2
“I understand the Prince of Wales’s opinion, though it saddens me,” May said gravely.
“Still, the opinion that primarily concerns me is yours. If you’ll forgive me for saying it, you were about to let Eddy marry a young woman who was not raised in the Church of England.
Would you weigh the sins of my parents as greater than the sin of not sharing our faith? ”
There was another drawn-out silence, heavy with significance.
“May, you are not who I would have picked for Eddy, but I am beginning to think that he made a sound choice for himself. You are clearly a woman of good sense. And that is what Eddy needs more than anything. Far be it from me to hold your parents against you,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
“My mother caused her fair share of problems for me, when I was a young woman.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” May felt a hollow shock ringing through her, making her almost dizzy. It was, she realized, the feeling of victory. Of no longer having to struggle.
It was relief.
Victoria studied her for a long moment, head tilted. Then she remarked, “I doubt any of my tiaras would suit you.”
“Your Majesty?” May asked, with some alarm.
“No matter. We shall make you a new one.”
That evening, the Prince of Wales had been scheduled to hold a reception aboard the Victoria and Albert II. Now that reception had been commandeered by the queen.
May couldn’t be certain, but she had the sense that the yacht had been rapidly cleared of guests, Bertie’s mistress and the baccarat tables shuffled onto another boat, replaced by flowers and a sense of decorum.
Now May was here, standing on the middle of the yacht’s three decks.
There was a chill in the air off the Channel.
In the distance, the sun was setting over the slate-gray waters, which were still punctuated by colorful sails as a few competitors—mainly the victors of various races—returned their boats to the harbor.
May felt an odd sort of kinship with them.
I won today, too, she wanted to cry out.
I started the race at a disadvantage, and yet here I am, about to win the greatest prize.
Guests spilled out of the yacht’s main salon, which was essentially a floating stateroom, its walls paneled with green silk and its furniture gilded.
Brocade curtains hung around the great glass windows overlooking the harbor.
From deeper in the ship, uniformed staff emerged with drinks; a pair of violinists played in the corner of the deck.
Since this was the queen’s party, everyone wore evening dress—frothy gowns and diamond necklaces, the men in dark tailcoats or military uniforms with sashes.
May reached down to finger her broché satin gown, the nicest one she owned.
If only she had some decent jewelry. Well, that would soon be fixed.
She noted with pleasure that everyone was here to see her triumph.
Alix stood along the railing, seeming lost in thought; the Coburg sisters were talking with their Prussian cousins, who’d come over from their yacht, the Hohenzollern.
And the tsarevich was in attendance with his uncle, accompanied by Hélène and her parents.
Studiously not looking at Hélène, his arms crossed, was Eddy.
May hadn’t seen him all day, not since he’d gotten off their motorboat and marched up the slope of the yacht club toward his grandmother.
When he was still missing an hour before his supposed engagement announcement, she had started to panic—but then George had arrived, dragging Eddy in his wake, as well as their cousin Ernest of Hesse.
Both Eddy and Ernie were in distinctly rough shape. Their cheeks were sunburned, their movements slow; though somehow, probably with the help of very competent valets, George seemed to have gotten both young men into evening attire.
It would seem that Eddy had gotten off the boat that morning, declared to Queen Victoria that he would marry May, and then spent the day with Ernie, getting drunk. Probably at a dockside bar that catered to common sailors.
As if he wanted to get drunk enough to forget this engagement altogether.
“What a divine view,” Mrs. de Falbe remarked.
May smiled and murmured a reply; Mrs. de Falbe was one of the few guests who paid her any mind, and she suspected that the woman only did so because Mr. de Falbe was the Danish ambassador, and had never explained to his wife just how unimportant May was.
Earlier, May had tried to start up a conversation with a few of the married ladies her own age, who had all come with their husbands from London—Lady Clementine Walsh, Lady Leigh Arlington.
They had turned up their noses at her. If they only knew.
“Good evening, everyone.”
Though the queen did not shout, her voice projected through the space like an actor’s. She stepped up near the railing of the yacht, diminutive and yet unmistakably the most powerful force present.
One by one, everyone fell silent and turned expectantly toward Victoria.
She held out her hands. “Bertie and I are so pleased to welcome you on our family’s boat this evening.
I do hope you all enjoyed the races. I had my money on the Jasper, so I’m afraid I lost a few bets.
Apparently, I know horses better than I know yachts.
” There was polite laughter at the queen’s words.
May tried to catch Eddy’s gaze, but he didn’t see her. His expression was glassy and vacant, almost haunted.
“I have an exciting announcement,” the queen went on. “My dear grandson and heir, Eddy, recently came to me with momentous news. Grandmother, he said, I have fallen in love and asked a young woman for her hand in marriage. Now I come to you for your blessing.”
Victoria was taking a rather liberal approach to the truth, but this was the sort of story people wanted to hear, wasn’t it?
May tried to arrange her features into a simpering sort of smile, the way a young woman in love would look.
“Luckily for us,” Queen Victoria went on, “the young woman in question is far from a stranger. Why, she’s a member of our own dear family!”
All over the yacht, eyes cut to Ducky, though a few people glanced at Alix, too. Not a single person was looking at May.
So there was a moment of uncertain shock when the queen said, “I am delighted to congratulate my darling Eddy for his engagement to Princess May of Teck!”
There was a heartbeat of flat, disbelieving silence. Then the guests all came to their senses and began to applaud, even if they looked at May in bewilderment.
Uncle Bertie stepped forward, gesturing to May. When she placed her palm in his, he held out his other hand to Eddy, as if he meant to clasp their two hands together.
Eddy stumbled as he came to join her. May forced herself not to wince, though her eyes cut to George. Wasn’t it his job to keep track of Eddy, to keep him from getting so roaring drunk?
When she met George’s gaze, though, there was something in it she couldn’t decipher. May’s heart skipped.
Eddy had regained his balance, reaching a hand obediently to May. He wasn’t smiling. It didn’t matter, she told herself, and smiled broadly enough for both of them.
None of the rest of it mattered now May was going to marry Eddy. Finally, after all her striving, she had won.
Finally, she was safe.