Chapter Twenty-Two Alix
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alix
“Another letter has arrived for you,” Ernie announced, coming to join Alix on the front steps.
It was chilly out; the majestic spruce trees that lined the driveway had already shed their needles onto the paving stones. In another month snow would begin to dust the tops of their branches, gathering on the gabled roofs of town like icing on a cake.
“From Maximilian? Or Hélène?” Alix guessed.
Both had become regular correspondents of late.
It had been hard at first, staying close with Hélène after everything that had happened, but it wasn’t Hélène’s fault that the tsar and tsarina approved of her when they were so opposed to Alix.
Besides, Hélène and Nicholas had already informed their parents that the hoped-for engagement would not happen.
Hélène had written that her parents were livid: that they blamed Nicholas, since he was the one who’d officially ended it.
Now Philippe d’Orléans was telling Hélène not to worry, that it was better she hadn’t married Nicholas, since he was apparently such a cad.
At least Hélène had a protective father. But then, Alix thought fondly, she had Ernie.
Her brother paused, his eyes searching hers. “Alix, this letter is from St. Petersburg.”
She closed her eyes. “Burn it, then. Just like the others.”
“Are you sure? Because I really think—”
“Please, Ernie,” she said heavily.
Nicholas had written her a few times since Cowes, more frequently at the beginning and then, as time passed, less often. Alix had allowed herself to read the first letter, hoping foolishly that it might contain good news. What if Nicholas had finally convinced his parents to let them marry?
Nothing had changed, of course. All he wrote was more of the same: I promise that we will find a way to be together, but there are a number of difficulties and it may take time. I have never in my whole life been so sure of anything as I am of you….
Alix knew that Nicholas meant his promises.
She just wasn’t sure he could actually follow through on them.
And if she kept on believing him—letting Nicholas have everything, loving him in secret despite the cost—it would keep hurting her, every time she had to let go of him.
To watch him with someone else, even if that someone wasn’t Hélène.
Not to mention that if they were caught, Alix was the one who would suffer for it. Not him.
Perhaps it would have been easier if she and Nicholas had never met. Or if she’d ignored her attraction to him, pretended there was no spark. But she was here now, and as much as she loved him, she had to protect her heart.
Already it was getting easier to dismiss him from her mind. Time had done that, and the quiet routine of Darmstadt.
“Very well. I’ll burn it.” Ernie wrapped an arm around Alix’s shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze.
At least one good thing had come out of the whole mess: she and Ernie were closer than ever. There were no secrets between them anymore. He knew everything about Nicholas, and what had happened with Hélène and Eddy, and Alix’s unexpected new friendship with Maximilian.
Maximilian’s first note had arrived in Darmstadt a few days after the regatta.
It began innocuously, with a question about literature—had Alix read the new German translation of Livy’s History of Rome, and what did she think?
To which she’d replied, half joking, I will attempt the monstrosity that is Livy if you will read Trollope.
In the months since, they had exchanged stories and confidences, becoming friends quite without Alix realizing it.
She’d learned all about Maximilian’s family: his father, Wilhelm, was the third son of the previous grand duke, Leopold.
Maximilian’s oldest uncle, Louis, would have been the current grand duke, but he was, as the family said, “not right in the head.” Maximilian had been shockingly open about his uncle’s mental state, how he suffered from delusions, forgot where he was or even his own name.
It was all so strange to Alix, who had been taught from a young age to never speak of her shameful episodes.
Their letters rambled, by turns serious and superficial.
Alix: I hosted a dinner with Father again last night; we had the deacon over for pork schnitzel.
Ernie and I snuck off to play billiards, and when the deacon caught us in the game room, we had to pretend we were looking for the Bible so that he could lead us in evening prayer.
Needless to say, that room doesn’t contain a Bible… .
Maximilian: Remind me to tell you of the time I got caught stealing apples from the rectory’s orchard. As punishment, I had to spend the next five years serving as an altar boy. The punishment seemed more excessive than the crime….
Alix: Does Baden celebrate Oktoberfest? Though it’s nothing like Munich, Darmstadt has been quite taken over with the festival spirit.
Maximilian: Oh yes. My cousin Frederick has been practicing Hammerschlagen, and claims he will compete in the county games.
Alix had heard of Hammerschlagen, a game where men raced to hammer nails into a tree trunk, though she’d never seen it.
“Alix? Are they here yet?” Her father, Louis, emerged from the house, sounding slightly bewildered. “I still can’t quite understand why they’re coming. It’s not as if they visited often before.”
In this house, before only ever meant one thing: before Alice died.
“You know Aunt Marie delights in being unpredictable,” Alix said evasively. She and Ernie had already discussed their suspicions that Queen Victoria had sent the Coburg cousins to report on Alix.
The letter from Aunt Marie had arrived a few days ago, announcing that her family would be “passing through Hesse” on a train voyage and would be staying for a few days.
It had turned the household quite upside down, maidservants hurrying to wax tables and air out guest bedrooms and wipe down furniture that had acquired a fine sheen of dust. “We’ve gotten lazy,” Alix had whispered to Ernie, who laughed.
The clatter of hoofbeats at the end of the drive made them all look up. A pair of carriages trotted toward them, the horses’ bridles jangling.
When the carriages pulled to a stop, Uncle Alfred emerged with a strained smile.
Clearly, he didn’t want to visit the home of his dead sister any more than Louis wanted him here.
Aunt Marie came next, and then Ducky and Missy were spilling from the carriage like pumpkins falling out of a cart, muslins and silks fluffing up as they pushed past each other.
There was a breathless string of exclamations all running together: Alix, we have missed you, where are your stables, we brought presents from Grandmama, will it be this cold all week because I shall need to borrow a coat!
In spite of herself, Alix smiled. “The stables are out back, and I’m sure Ernie would love to ride with you tomorrow. Of course you’re welcome to any of my coats.”
Missy stepped forward. “Look at your hair, Alix! Let me guess, you didn’t use any hot tongs at all? These curls are all natural?”
As always, Alix was discomfited by remarks upon her beauty. It had never really felt like it had anything to do with her. “No hot tongs,” she said hastily. “What is the news from London?”
“London? We came from St. Petersburg! Ducky in particular enjoyed herself,” Missy teased.
Ducky came to loop an arm through Alix’s as they ascended the stairs.
“Missy always says too much. Though I suppose I should thank her. If she hadn’t told May about me and Kiril, May wouldn’t have helped me wriggle out of that engagement to Eddy.
I believe you and I have that in common, right, Alix? ”
“I…what?” The Coburg girls’ frankness continued to surprise Alix. She was never so forthright. And who was Kiril?
“Forgive me, I thought you knew. May said that you and Eddy had been promised, but you got out of it,” Ducky murmured, too quietly for anyone to overhear. “I got out of the same engagement. May gave me wonderful advice.”
“It’s not as if she had selfless motives. Now she’s engaged to Eddy herself,” Alix said testily.
“Yes, she wanted to be queen. I wish her joy of it.” Ducky shuddered. “I have no desire for that life, and I can tell that you don’t, either.”
Alix was spared from replying by Aunt Marie. “Alix, we have a surprise!” she called out. “Look who we ran into on the train! We insisted that he come say hello, of course.”
Alix turned around to see that a third carriage was rattling down the driveway. Somehow she knew, even before it drew to a stop, that Maximilian would step out.
His gaze darted to hers for an instant before he quickly bowed to her father, then to Uncle Alfred and Aunt Marie. “I am just stopping by on my way to Prussia,” he explained. “I’m afraid I have business with Emperor Wilhelm.”
“We are headed to Prussia as well, if you’d like to keep traveling with us,” Aunt Marie offered loudly.
“Maximilian, you must stay!” Ernie insisted. “Surely the kaiser can wait a few days.”
Maximilian looked to Alix, a question in his hazel eyes. She knew that he would stay or go as she commanded.
“Of course you should join us,” she said gently.
A smile tugged his mouth upward. “It’s settled, then.”
Later that evening, Maximilian was the first to enter the drawing room, where everyone would gather before dinner.
Alix looked up guiltily; she was ensconced in an armchair, her feet curled up under the skirts of her loosely corseted dress, a book on her lap. When she saw that it was Maximilian, she let out an amused breath.
“You caught me in the act,” she said, holding up her copy of History of Rome. “My progress through Livy has been slow; I’m still only at the Gallic invasion. I must say, though, it makes me want to visit Rome.”
Hesitantly, Maximilian took the armchair next to her. “You’ve never been to Rome?”
“No. We are mostly here in Darmstadt, aside from our annual trip to London.” And the occasional visit to Ella in Russia, but for some reason Alix didn’t mention that.
“We are even, then, as I’m not finished the Palliser novels. Though I must admit, I expected happier stories for some of the characters,” Maximilian told her.
“Oh, I know. Poor Alice!” Alix agreed.
“Poor Alice?” Maximilian lifted an eyebrow. “Surely you didn’t want her to marry George? He was awful.”
“But she loved him!”
“Perhaps she shouldn’t have,” he said softly.
Alix opened her mouth to answer—then closed it again, suddenly unsure.
She’d always thought that Trollope did wrong by Alice, marrying her to John, who was steady and reliable and just a teensy bit boring, when she’d had such a passionate romance with George.
Then again, Alice’s relationship with George was volatile, with moments of anguish as much as joy.
“You may be right,” Alix said slowly. “Perhaps I should reread it with the benefit of experience.”
Maximilian looked at her curiously, but refrained from asking what experience, exactly, she meant. Instead he merely said, “Thank you for all the letters.”
The words were polite, but there was something intimate about the way he spoke them, as if the letters were a shared secret.
Alix swallowed, suddenly flustered. “I have enjoyed our correspondence very much.”
This was the same Maximilian she had met months ago, who’d taken her on that quiet walk in the Buckingham Palace gardens, and yet he felt like an entirely different person. There was history between them now, anecdotes and opinions and jokes.
“How was the journey?” she went on, to hide the strange, almost restless feeling beneath her rib cage.
“Quite easy. The train from Karlsruhe is only a few hours.”
Funny to think that Baden was so close and yet she’d never visited.
When Alix and Ernie went to London, it took the better part of a week.
Her trip to St. Petersburg, to see Ella, had been even longer; the Russian railways had snaked up the coast for days, past dozens of small villages centered on a single unpaved street.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she replied, and Maximilian smiled.
The door swung open, and Ducky and Missy spun into the room in a whirl of chatter.
As Alix stood to greet them, Maximilian rose to his feet at the same time, and their arms brushed.
It was such a small moment of contact, her sleeve brushing against his jacket, but Alix couldn’t help wondering if it hadn’t been accidental.
And more surprisingly, a part of her wondered if it might happen again.