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“I read those too,” Alix whispered, as a steaming plate of veal was placed in front of her.<br />
“Salvation of a different sort,” Emma whispered back, picking up her wine glass.<br />
“Nicky loves the sea,” Alix said, with a return to her normal tone and a rather abrupt change of<br />
topic. “He wears the uniform of the Russian navy for all state occasions.”<br />
The Russian navy, Emma thought. Founded by Peter the Great, the design of their ships all<br />
allegedly based on that of a single skiff the first tsar had brought back from a visit to England, thus<br />
giving rise to the theory, at least in the universities and shipyards of London, that the success of the<br />
Russian navy was the result of science stolen from the British. Emma had been so immersed in<br />
reading eastern history over the last three days that these facts slid back to her unbidden. But she<br />
merely nodded encouragingly, and Alix went on.<br />
“His family yacht is far larger and grander than this one,” Alix said, with a guilty look in the<br />
direction of the Queen.<br />
Emma made a noncommittal sort of murmur, wondering if Nicholas possessed the skill to<br />
actually captain a craft, even one the size of Tsar Peter’s original skiff. She suspected he did not,<br />
which made his pride in wearing a nautical uniform rather affected, like a child playing dress-up. But<br />
it hardly mattered. For when she had said the name “Nicky,” Alix’s face had suddenly become alive<br />
with light and animation. She was one of those women who could be transformed by joy, who could<br />
fly from merely pretty to compelling on the wings of sheer emotion.<br />
“He is so dashing in his naval uniform,” Alix said. “The trousers are white and the jacket is<br />
blue with gold braid on the shoulders and an insignia –“<br />
“I say,” Tom said, calling down the table as if they were all patrons at a boarding house.<br />
Rayley startled with horror but the Queen seemed completely nonplussed. “What holds you ladies so<br />
deep in conversation?”<br />
“We’re discussing Paradise Lost and the nature of salvation,” Emma replied.<br />
“Good heavens, such gravity,” said Tom with a mock frown. “If your thoughts grow any more<br />
ponderous, I fear the very ship shall sink beneath us.”<br />
“We shall continue our conversation later,” Emma said quietly to Alix, and, on impulse she<br />
reached across the table and squeezed her hand. It was doubtless an inappropriate gesture, to touch<br />
royalty without their bidding, but the girl flushed with pleasure, clearly happy to have a new friend or<br />
at least a sympathetic tutor. She’s frightened too, Emma thought. Unsure of what she’ll find in St.
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