Page 14 of A Queen's Match

Her father wanted her to marry the futureTsar of Russia?

Well, now Hélène understood her mother’s remark about converting. She had assumed that her father was considering a Protestant prince. Why hadn’t she thought of the Russian Orthodox Church?

“Your Imperial Highness, Hélène and I were just discussing the stars. Aren’t they lovely tonight?” Philippe prompted.

“They are,” Nicholas agreed, sounding a bit puzzled.

“Perhaps you and Hélène might look at them together? I find it’s easier to see the heavens deeper in the gardens, away from all the noise and the light.”

In other circumstances, Hélène might have laughed at how flagrantly her father was disregarding chaperonage requirements.

Nicholas hesitated, then held out an arm to escort Hélène. “I would be honored.”

Hélène’s body screamed at the wrongness of this; yet she forced herself to put a hand on Nicholas’s forearm, following him to the hedges that marked the Marlborough House gardens.

It was hard not to think of when she’d been out here with Eddy last year, the night of his investiture. The two of them had slipped into these gardens and run around like children, chasing each other with suppressed laughter until they’d become tangled up together, and their giddy laughs had turned into something else entirely.

Realizing how long she’d been silent, Hélène cleared her throat. “The stars are indeed beautiful.”

They weren’t, actually. They were obscured beneath the hazy lights of London, a city now illuminated by so much electricity that it dimmed the heavens.

Nicholas drew to a halt near a rosebush. He stared out into the distance, his only reply a noncommittalmmm.

“It’s a beautiful party,” she added awkwardly. “How thoughtful of you, to come all the way from Russia.”

Again Nicholas huffed out a nonverbal response. He really was quite sullen, Hélène thought with sudden irritation. She didn’t want to be here either.

“Really, Your Imperial Highness.” Her tone was slightly teasing, though her annoyance crept through. “I have made two attempts at conversation; now it is your turn to remark upon something. You might say how happy you are for your aunt and uncle that they have been married for twenty-five years.”

“Nicholas,” he muttered, finally turning to look at her.

“Excuse me?”

“Please don’t use my title. Call me Nicholas.”

“Very well,Nicholas.Since you are clearly so undesirous of my company, perhaps we might both return to the party?”

“Wait, please.” His hand clenched into a fist, then unclenched. “I owe you an apology. Whatever our parents have decided among themselves, I need to…I cannot marryyou.”

Hélène blinked at the turn this conversation had taken.

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” Nicholas continued awkwardly. “You seem like a charming young woman.”

He clearly didn’t know her at all, if he thought she wascharming.“I assure you, I’m not at all disappointed. I do not wish to marry you, either.”

Nicholas stared at her for a moment. “You aren’t angry?”

“Would you prefer that I swooned at your rejection?”

That, at least, coaxed a half smile from him. “I’d rather you didn’t, actually.”

“What a relief. I’ve never swooned before, and fear I don’t even know how.”

Now he was definitely smiling. “I just wanted you to know that my decision isn’t a reflection on your…person,” Nicholas explained, with a vague gesture that encompassed her body and face. “My heart is promised elsewhere.”

What a funny, old-fashioned phrase. It struck her as the sort of thing Alix would say.

“If it makes you feel better, my heart is promised elsewhere, too,” Hélène assured him.