He and Marie were called “friends of the blanket,” for they had known each other since birth. The story went that as babies, their nurses had placed them in the same crib. He supposed they would all soon be family now, once the marriage was settled; but back then, years ago, when he was just a young pugnacious boy and she was a sickly little girl, they had been friends.
Marie was sitting on a checked cloth with a picnic laid out with a few of his favorite things. His spirits lifted to discover she remembered the old days as well—the picnic was set with their favorites. Peach pie, a pitcher of cold lemonade, bacon butties, French cheese, a bar of chocolate. She was alone except for a member of the Queen’s Guard, a rough young man who gave Wolf a stern look as he approached, as if the soldier would have no trouble pitching him off the roof if he tried anything. Wolf wanted to tell him to relax, he was a friend, not an enemy. The war was over, wasn’t it?
“Dog droppings!” Marie said, looking pleased when she saw him.
“Helmet head!” he said, pulling her hat down over her eyes and making her giggle. He was the only one who could call her that, because she knew he meant it fondly. When she’d worn a helmet, he had drawn lions and bears on it, the symbols of their houses. “Here,” he said, offering her a bouquet of red and pink wildflowers that he had ordered from the shop that morning. They were her favorite kind, and she lamented that the palace gardener would not cultivate them, dismissing them as common and weed-like.
He flopped on the blanket and helped himself to a sandwich. He was glad to see her looking better. The last time they had seen each other was four years ago, right before the empire had declared war on his father’s kingdom. She had been just a girl then, but now she was practically a married lady, and he was still…well, he was still a brawler. Maybe not much had changed after all. Marie was thin and pale as usual, but she had a flush in her cheeks, and her eyes were bright. She was wearing a pretty white linen dress, and her hair was dark and loose under her white hat. She looked enchanting, like a girl from a painting, and he told her so.
“You’re too kind,” she said. “And you of all people don’t have to blow kisses to me, you know. I’ve heard what you’ve been up to.” She shook her head and adopted a stern tone. “Too many nights at private clubs! How much debt have you racked up this time? How many hearts have you broken?”
“It’s good to see you too, I missed your scolding,” he laughed. From the roof they could see all of London, all the new development and construction, the city expanding in all directions. They did not speak of the war, or their long separation. Instead they talked about books and music, like they always did, and their plans after the season was over. Marie thought she would be going to Versailles as usual for the fall, but she did not know. So many things were changing so fast, and she was uncertain if Leo would uphold the usual traditions once they were wed. She thought they might set up house in a wing at Kensington, where her mother had lived as a girl.
“So you really mean to marry my big brother at the end of the season?” he asked lightly, taking a big bite of peach pie.
“I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“No,” he sighed, “I suppose not. None of us do. I’m sure Father will tell me who I’m supposed to marry soon enough.” He stretched his legs lazily and let out a little burp. Marie was like family—not quite a sister, but a distant cousin. They shared a great-grandmother or two somewhere up the line.
“Well, you are a second son, so perhaps it doesn’t matter so much who you ma
rry,” she teased.
“Thanks for reminding me,” he growled, pitching crumbs toward the pigeons that had gathered at a discreet distance from their picnic.
“Why so gloomy? Have you met someone and had your heart stolen, for once?” she asked. When he did not answer, she laughed. “Ah! So there is a girl!”
He shrugged, even as his thoughts wandered to the girl on the boat. How did Marie know he was thinking of that girl? Marie had always been too smart for her own good. “I suppose I have met someone,” he allowed.
“What happened?” she asked, pulling her knees up to her chin under her skirts and regarding him thoughtfully.
“I asked her to marry me.” He grinned.
“Wolfie!” she gasped and rapped his knee with her fan. “What would Oswald say!”
“He would whip me like when I was a kid, I suppose.”
“Well, I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” she said with a laugh, but when she saw his face her tone changed. “Darling! What happened?”
He hung his head. His proposal had been sincere, but he shrugged as if it were nothing, as if he asked girls to marry him every day.
“She said no,” he sighed.
“That silly girl,” Marie said angrily. “Why on earth did she refuse you?”
“Oh, I can imagine there are many reasons.” He frowned. The rejection had stung more than he’d expected. If only she had said yes—and she had been so close to it, he could tell. At that moment, he’d felt as if he were standing at a crossroads, that his destiny could change on a whim—on her word. He would have run away with her if she had accepted him. And what he wanted more than anything in the world was someone to run away with, he realized at that moment—to be someone else, rather than second-in-line to the throne. It was not to be, and his face darkened gloomily.
Marie returned a hand to his knee and shook it back and forth, as if to shake him out of his terrible mood. “You’ll find another girl. There’s always another girl.”
He put a hand on top of hers and grinned. “Maybe I already have found one,” he teased. He liked teasing Marie; she got so mad at him. It was fun.
She tossed a croissant at him. “Now you’re the one being silly.”
They ate the rest of their meal in companionable silence, until Marie spoke again. This time, her tone was not teasing, but serious. “Isabelle dissolved her hold on Leo the other day. She didn’t look very happy when she signed the papers. Wolfie, tell me the truth. Are Leo and Isabelle truly in love, as everyone says? She is so very pretty.”
“If you like vipers,” he said. “She has nothing on you, my dear. Do not worry.”
She sighed. “I always thought Leo would marry a great girl.”