Where, indeed, was Lady Morrissey’s husband?
Wasn’t she concerned over her reputation? Particularly with the Duchess expected. Victoria would no doubt report every faux pas to the gossip-mongering ton—and if Lady Morrissey was not concerned, who was she to be spared the Duchess’s cutting tongue? Alexandra stood wondering about that when Claire approached to whisper in her ear, in precisely the manner she used to do. “Penny for your thoughts?” she said.
Alexandra’s answering smile was quick as she turned to her friend, answering the way Claire would expect her to, “Give me two and I’ll tell all.”
“All?” Claire teased.
“Yes, indeed.” She lifted her chin. “Three will get you a song about it as well.”
Claire laughed, and reached out to embrace Alexandra, leaving an arm about her waist. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Quite,” she lied, and, truly, she might have had the opportunity to do so if only she could temper the demons raging on her shoulder—an entire host of them now: one to needle her about Ben, one to harangue her about Claire, one to pester her about the mysterious Lady Morrissey, and yet another to bedevil her endlessly about the mistletoe hanging throughout the manor. Glancing up again at the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the crystal chandelier, she said, “It’s a lovely home.”
“Indeed,” said Claire, whispering now. “Although I do wonder how many scandals were born here…”
“Truly. How can Victoria bear to spend the holiday?”
“Well… my guess is she will not,” said Claire. “She advised close proximity to Hampton Court for Chloe’s sake, but I’m quite certain she pressed General Moore as much for her own designs as she did for Chloe.” It was not Victoria’s way to lose an opportunity to see to her daughter’s welfare, and now that King William was aging, without legitimate heirs, and Drina was the heir apparent, there was hardly any chance the Duchess would bypass Hampton Court only to reside in the Pavilions, especially since Ian’s royal father wasn’t in attendance.
“Lawd,” said Alexandra, “when I think about my own wretched family… I should remember poor Drina.”
Claire’s brows lifted. “Poor Drina?” she exclaimed. “That child will be Queen some day!”
Alexandra smiled. “So will you.”
Claire shrugged, dismissing the notion with a hand. “Hardly apropos. I shall be Queen Consort of a small province—smaller even than Leiningen.”
“And regardless…”
“Well, you know it doesn’t matter to me, Alexandra, but if it affords us the opportunity to make better someone’s lot, I will welcome my crown wholeheartedly.”
Alexandra smiled genuinely at the familiar glimpse of her old friend. “You shall be splendid,” she said, returning Claire’s embrace as Lady Morrissey chirped with laughter. Like a lodestone, Alexandra’s gaze lifted to the trio across the room, and following Lexie’s gaze, Claire smiled knowingly. “If you must know, the holiday decor was her idea.”
“Lady Morrissey?”
Claire nodded.
“And the mistletoe, as well?”
“Oh, yes,” said Claire. “She’s been helping with wedding plans, and she’s quite amazing, although I presume, like Victoria, she must have had her own designs when suggesting the mistletoe.” Her lips curved impishly. “What do you think?”
“Indeed,” said Lexie, lifting her brows. “And where did you meet her? She’s rather… bold.”
Claire lifted a hand to her lips and bent closer. “Believe it or not, she’s a very close acquaintance of Victoria’s. In fact, I’m told she’s some relation to the Saxon Duchy.”
“Interesting,” said Alexandra. Claire shrugged.
There were whispers of a distant marriage arrangement in the works between royal cousins Alexandrina Victoria and Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, but Drina was still far too young. However, if Lady Morrissey was present with Victoria’s blessing, perhaps she was here to protect the interests of the Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld house.
Claire shrugged yet again, and Alexandra startled as Prince Merrick suddenly barked with laughter, then leaned to clap his brother on the shoulder—the twin he’d not met until they were both well past their salad days. How must it feel to discover so late in life that one had a sibling… and more, that he shared the same face? In fact, they shared the same hair, the same coloring, the same broad shoulders, the same blue eyes. They were identical in every respect, except for the mode of dress: While Prince Merrick was inclined to more formal garb, Claire’s fiancé wore a simple frock coat that was far more relaxed, even down to the grade of wool and lack of cravat. Truly, Prince Ian looked more like a commoner than he did any sort of prince.
“It’s hardly any wonder their father couldn’t tell them apart,” said Claire, perhaps reading her mind.
“Can you?”
“Well,” Claire confessed. “It mightn’t be so easy if they were dressed alike… but, really, there’s a certain quality to each of their voices. And…”
“And?”
Claire flushed brightly, and Alexandra gasped. “Oh, Claire! You haven’t!”
Claire nodded very slowly and deliberately, her blush heightening. “Oh, yes, I’m afraid I have!” And she giggled.
Like old times, they put their heads together conspiratorially. “Will you do it again?”
“Of course!”
“But here? Now?”
“Heavens, no! Ben would call him out. Nor would I dare give Victoria yet another reason to wag her tongue.”
“If she comes,” reminded Lexie.
“If she comes” agreed Claire, and once again her gaze was drawn to the brothers, sighing contentedly.
It was more than apparent to Alexandra that Claire was besotted—and why not? Ian was a charming prince, to be sure. And really, it was fascinating to observe the brothers together. Even their mannerisms were uncannily similar. One was raised a prince, groomed to rule a nation; the other was raised in exile, none the wiser that he, too, was a prince. And yet somehow, even their taste in partners was the same as well. Both Chloe and Claire had rich auburn hair, both were slight of build. And while Chloe’s eyes were bright blue and Claire’s were a vivid green, both ladies’ gazes were marked with intelligence.
“Excuse me just a moment,” said Claire, and she wandered away to whisper into Ian’s ear. After a moment, the two of them quit the parlor, and Alexandra sighed wistfully, her gaze automatically seeking Ben.
He was gone.
It shouldn’t be like this, but the room felt entirely depleted in his absence, the mood entirely deflated.
Where was he? Out wandering the halls? Was he too plagued by that Christmas kiss so long ago?
No matter how she tried, Alexandra couldn’t seem to forget, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep romantic thoughts out of her head. Fortunately, it was only a moment before Claire and Ian returned, and behind them came a manservant carrying a tray, urging everyone to take a goblet of champagne. After everyone was served, Claire awarded them each with a nod and a smile. And then, performing like a seasoned toastmistress, she said, “Welcome, friends! Welcome! Welcome!” Casting a loving glance at her fiancé, her eyes sparkling brighter than the polished marble floors, she said, “As you must know… we will soon be swept away by a joyous occasion. However, before then, we hoped to spend a quiet holiday amidst those we love best—that’s you. And to show our appreciation for all you have done for us through the ages, we have a small token of our affection.”