Page 12 of A Foreign Crown
“What do we do?” Aribella began to panic. She was absolutely not cut out for royal court life, and this first moment of her arrival proved it. “They are here to welcome Prince Layton, but ladies alight first. How silly for us to exit in all this pomp and circumstance. And what will everyone think? Us, escorting the prince and his man?”
Prince Layton rested a hand on her arm. “I shall exit and turn to hand you both down.”
She felt the tightness in her chest ease. “Ah yes, simple. Thank you.”
She at once felt she’d never see a more gallant man than Prince Layton. She chided herself but could do nothing to control this new attraction that filled her. So far, he was everything she’d ever dreamed a gentleman should be, and she found herself quite smitten, though unreasonably so.
Prince Layton seemed to take a moment to prepare himself. He sat taller, his chin rose, and she saw the prince in him: strong, confident, commanding. Then he stepped out of the door. He bowed to the English princes, waved to the nobility who had gathered behind them, nodded to the soldiers and even the footmen, and then turned and lifted a hand back inside the carriage door.
Lady Mallory jumped forward, grasping his hand first. She stepped carefully, full of grace, and nodded to all, then curtsied deeply to the princes.
Aribella felt her confidence rise. She was well versed in the manners required, in the different modes of address, in her presentation. She had been trained by her mother, one of the best ladies-in-waiting in the court—a duchess. By the time Prince Layton’s hand reached back for her, she was ready to alight from the carriage with equal grace and charm. She lowered her shoulders, lifted her chin, and stepped forward.
Prince Layton’s attention to her might have been her only undoing. She’d never been so affected by a man. He steadied her momentary waver, and then she stepped out into the light. The soldiers on each side were impressive, and for a moment, she pretended they were placed to welcome her, her father, and her mother to St. James’s, as they likely once did when Aribella was very small. Then she lowered into her own curtsy.
She and Lady Mallory each took one of Prince Layton’s elbows, and they made their way up the stairs to greet some of Queen Charlotte’s sons.
They reached the top, and each lady curtsied again while Prince Layton dipped into a curt and perfunctory bow. The brothers bowed in response, and Prince George reached his hand out to Aribella.
She placed her hand in his, and he bowed over it, kissing her knuckles, his eyes full of interest. “Do we have the pleasure of welcoming the Duke of Sumter’s daughter to our court?”
She rose and nodded. “You do, Your Highness. I’m grateful to come in my mother’s place to serve the Queen.”
“I’m charmed, as I’m sure everyone else will be, to meet you.” He nodded to Lady Mallory and then held his hand out to shake Prince Layton’s. “And all this fanfare is for you, Your Highness. Welcome to England, Prince Layton. Do I understand you are the youngest son of the Wilhelms of Oldenburg?”
“I am.” Prince Layton dipped his head. “I am come to discuss matters of state, as an ambassador.”
“And a friend and a fellow royal. You will visit us at Carlton House?”
“I would be honored.”
Prince George reached again for Aribella’s hand, placing it in the crook of his arm. “Now, let us come inside and get refreshed, and you can meet my brothers.”
They moved into a hall, lavishly decorated in bright reds and brocaded walls, with thick fabric draperies and stunning chandeliers.
“The finery here is like nothing I’ve seen.” Aribella lifted her chin for a better view.
“Don’t you remember coming here as a young girl?” Prince George smiled. “I am sorry it has been so many years that you have forgotten.”
“Indeed, I don’t remember, but Mother did always describe it all in the finest details.”
“Your mother was indispensable to mine. I thank you for her service. We are saddened by the loss of such an asset to the royal household.”
Though she tried to stem them, tears welled and blurred Aribella’s vision. “Thank you. I am honored by your praise.”
They moved at a leisurely pace down the hall and into the second room on the right. “Ah, one of our most pleasant rooms, where we won’t feel the immensity towering above us.” With the flick of Prince George’s fingers, servants arrived with trays of tea and refreshments. “Let us continue with the introductions. These are two of my brothers, the Duke of Clarence and the Duke of Kent.”
Everyone bowed or curtsied. Then Prince George directed Aribella to a low-sitting chair, and he sat beside her, directly to her right.
She did not miss the sour expression on Lady Mallory’s face as she looked from the English prince to Aribella and back, nor did she miss the open curiosity in Prince Layton’s.
As the softness of the chair embraced her and the warm tea soothed her tired throat, Aribella allowed herself a moment to relax.
Lady Mallory had situated herself as closely as possible to Prince George, doting on him whenever possible. Prince Layton sat beside Aribella in another chair, and their shared table held teacups and plates with all manner of offerings from the royal kitchen. Aribella forced herself to bite only tiny corners and to sip with the daintiest motions. She wished there were a way to send back some of the options to her room later. She wished she could send some home to her father. The others ate with careless abandon. Did they even know how many would never experience such delicacies?
Lady Mallory leaned forward so the bareness at her low neckline was clearly visible to all in the room. Prince Layton cleared his throat and looked away.
“Prince George. When shall we hear another poem?” Lady Mallory’s voice took on a purring quality, and Aribella decided she might stay as far from the woman as she could.
