Victory in the Engagement Contest
After returning from Hesse, Waldemar threw himself into an exceptionally industrious routine.
The prince managed his businesses as diligently as ever, yet he also carved out time each day to write letters to Princess Alix.
To Waldemar’s regret, the Alix who had so thoroughly captivated him was a girl overflowing with feeling. She poured every trivial incident of her life onto the page and sent it to him.
During the day a wasp flew into my room, and we all nearly flew into a panic. How on earth can a bee grow so large?
— Alix
Waldemar was obliged not only to answer every such letter but also to report every detail of his own daily life in return. The volume of correspondence only grew with each passing day. Should he miss even a single letter or dare to shorten one, Alix sulked at once. When angry she simply stopped writing, and that was how she made her displeasure known.
Once she had turned petulant, soothing her required several times the usual effort—suitable gifts, of course, and pages overflowing with the sweetest words he could invent. A girl who had only just discovered romantic feeling proved a remarkably exacting correspondent.
Yet there was nothing to be done about it. Waldemar himself was the one who had sought this relationship with Alix.
How on earth did Nicky manage to court Alix?
Still, the daily labor of winning her favor was not without reward. As Alix and Waldemar exchanged letters without missing a single day, both the House of Hohenzollern and the Grand Ducal House of Hesse began, almost without realizing it, to regard the connection as a serious one. That was precisely the outcome Waldemar had desired. Once Alix reached a marriageable age, he was certain this delicate cousinly intimacy would ripen into matrimony.
Alix will surely think so herself.
An intimate childhood friend who already felt almost like a lover, equal rank, and the quiet blessing of both families—when those three conditions were met, no rival, however splendid, could easily overturn the board. Not even a rival such as Nicholas. Viewed in that light, the oppressive weight of Alix’s thick letters became almost bearable.
One day, while composing a reply and glancing at the name signed at the foot of her letter, a far more alarming thought struck him.
But what if Nicky simply chooses another Hessian princess instead of Alix?
The idea sent a chill straight down his spine. It was entirely possible. If Nicholas II did not object to a slightly older bride, Hesse still possessed a candidate: Princess Irene, the third daughter.
In the original history Irene had become Heinrich’s wife—Waldemar’s sister-in-law. Yet with the timeline already altered, there was no guarantee the same result would unfold.
A match between Irene and Nicholas must never be allowed.
Waldemar’s courtship of Alix had always carried a second purpose: severing the future link between Nicholas II and the British royal family. Should Irene become Nicholas’s bride instead, the entire scheme would collapse whether or not the marriage to Alix succeeded.
For Waldemar that would be the worst of all outcomes. He had deliberately approached the hemophilia-carrying Alix in order to hinder Russia; if the move produced no effect upon Russia at all, he would merely have done them a favor.
After long deliberation he concluded that the only way to eliminate this dangerous variable was to advance Heinrich’s romance far more swiftly than it had progressed in the original history. The moment the thought formed, he acted. Fortunately he already possessed an excellent channel of approach to Princess Irene.
“Alikki,” he wrote, using Alix’s affectionate nickname, “do you happen to know when Princess Irene means to make her debut in society?”
Born in 1866, Irene was of an age perfectly suited for her coming-out; she could have debuted the very next day if she wished.
“My third sister? Does that mean the House of Hohenzollern intends to attend if she debuts?”
“If the princess desires it, we should be only too happy.”
“Very well, then. I shall find out.”
Waldemar trusted that Alix would soon supply the exact date of Irene’s debut. Instead every reply brought only the same news: her sister had no intention of entering society at all.
If Princess Irene catches Nicholas’s eye before anything is settled, the whole plan will unravel.
Impatience gnawed at him, yet he could hardly drag an unmarried girl who had never even debuted into a matchmaking interview. Even after a debut an unmarried young woman required the permission and company of a chaperone. Modern notions of blind dating were out of the question.
After turning the problem over and over, Waldemar at last thought of England. Every summer the Hessian princesses travelled there for their holiday. If he arranged for Heinrich to be present at the same time, a few casual conversations would be easy enough to contrive. Such meetings would normally be impossible for an undebuted girl, yet among close kin the rules relaxed. That was the peculiar advantage of family.
To set the plan in motion he first approached his mother, Victoria, Princess Royal, and laid the matter before her without delay.
“You wish to introduce someone to Heinrich?”
“Princess Irene of Hesse.”
Victoria looked mildly surprised. Irene was the daughter of her own sister Alice and the third elder sister of Alix. Taking her as a daughter-in-law would create a double marriage alliance. Of course, among royal houses that thought nothing of cousin marriage, a double alliance was scarcely an obstacle. At first the princess felt a flicker of reluctance, yet the more she considered it the less objectionable the idea appeared.
Irene’s rank is perfectly suitable, her conduct is irreproachable, and her reputation is excellent.
The only real drawback was that choosing her would forfeit one valuable opportunity for a purely political match. Yet Heinrich’s marriage concerned his own life before it concerned the interests of the dynasty. After further reflection Victoria gave her son a conditional consent.
“I have no objection to Irene myself, but if Heinrich is opposed I have no wish to force the matter.”
“That is all I need to hear.”
The moment he secured his mother’s approval, Waldemar inquired after the Hessian princesses’ holiday schedule. This time Alix answered promptly and precisely.
“Early summer, then.”
After further discussion with the princess, the family decided to take their own holiday in England so that the dates would coincide.
“What is this? You spring a date on me out of nowhere?”
Heinrich protested when the sudden holiday was announced, yet he did not defy the schedule his mother had set. Wilhelm might have done so; Heinrich’s relations with the princess were not so strained that he would publicly embarrass her.
Thus the two families “coincidentally” reunited at Queen Victoria’s Osborne House. Using Alix as his private intelligence source, Waldemar mapped Irene’s movements about the house with almost perfect accuracy. With that knowledge he simply engineered opportunities for Heinrich and Irene to cross paths.
Beyond that he left the rest to chance—though he still harbored a quiet confidence. In the original history sparks had flown the moment they met; give them the chance and the same fire would kindle again. His calculation proved exact.
At first the two young people exchanged only the most correct greetings. Before long, however, they could scarcely take their eyes from each other, and every free moment found them seeking an excuse to converse. Waldemar even observed them slip away hand in hand for a quiet walk. To any observer the signs of courtship were unmistakable.
Victoria, Princess Royal, the one adult who might have interfered, raised no objection. On the contrary, she threw her full support behind the romance. The Hessian side offered no resistance either.
After all, the suitor belonged to Germany’s ruling house of Hohenzollern, and Prince Heinrich himself was known as a gentleman of unimpeachable character. With the quiet blessing of both families the couple abandoned any further attempt at secrecy. They even exchanged smiling glances across the dinner table.
They really are a well-matched pair.
Waldemar was now certain the relationship would soon reach its natural conclusion. In the original history they had married after three years of courtship; here the course would not differ greatly.
Irene has found her match before she even debuts. Even if Nicholas tries to approach her now, it will be useless.
Nor did he worry about Irene’s elder sisters. Both were already spoken for. The eldest, Princess Victoria, was to marry Prince Louis of Battenberg on the thirtieth of April; the second, Princess Elisabeth, would marry Grand Duke Sergei on the fifteenth of June. With the third sister, Irene, also claimed, Hesse no longer possessed a single marriageable princess of suitable age whom Nicholas could pursue.
Strictly speaking Alix still appeared available—she was young—but both houses already treated her as Waldemar’s quasi-fiancée. For Nicholas to take a Hessian princess as his bride had become possible only in dreams.
If he insisted upon a bride from Queen Victoria’s bloodline he would have to wait until the younger princesses grew from their cradles and made their debuts. Waldemar did not believe that would ever happen. Therefore this particular contest had already been won.
Waldemar raised his glass toward his brother, who stood laughing with Princess Irene, and silently toasted the victory.