Page 16 of A Foreign Crown
“Am I to expect nightly events?”
“From Prince George? Yes, most certainly.”
“And from the Queen or other members of the royal family?”
“I will spread the word you would like to be included in other events as well.”
“Yes, particularly with the King or Queen, if possible.” He told himself his purpose was to obtain an audience with the King, but Lady Aribella was at the forefront of his mind, whether he’d summoned her there or not.
Godfrey bowed. “Very good.”
Layton moved to the window. A well-appointed table waited in the perfect location with a comfortable-looking chair and a remarkable view overlooking the park. He sat, opening the long drawer to find sheaves of paper, ink, and a quill.
“Excellent.” He lifted a single page out, checking the quill. It had been trimmed just how he liked it. He dipped his quill and pondered what he should say. His mother would wish to be informed of his safe arrival. He began there.
After three pages of instructions to all and sundry, movement far below on the lawn caught his attention and interrupted the ending of his letter. The tip of a white dress swooshed and moved behind a hedge. He knew instinctively that he saw Lady Aribella. He stood, making his way to the window.
And there she was. She moved with purpose, full of energy, even though her path did not seem set. She meandered with a purpose? He wouldn’t be surprised. She seemed to be so much more than a servant. Of course, they called her Lady. She was the daughter of a duke—the Duke of Sumter, no less. He’d have to ask the purpose of ladies-in-waiting. If they were like the women who attended his mother in Oldenburg, then they were not quite the working class but not quite nobility either. But here, it seemed they were some of the highest-ranked ladies in England.
She must be staying somewhere close if they shared the same park. Brewer was hard at work putting things away, Prince George had all but dismissed Layton, and he wasn’t yet aware of anything on the schedule until this evening. He turned and headed for the door, suddenly wanting nothing more than a turn in St. James’s park.
He rushed through the corridors, stumbling across a servant. “You there. How might I exit out into the park?”
“Very good, Your Highness. You are almost there. The door sits at the end of this set of rooms.”
At last Layton stepped out into the surprisingly mild weather and looked up and down the green, but there was no sign of a woman in a white dress. He hurried out into the center of the park, looking up and down with great futility. Small groups of women and men promenaded together on the paths. The day really was lovely, but Layton failed to enjoy it as he looked in vain for Lady Aribella. He headed faster in the direction from which she’d come. Up ahead, a slip of white dress rounded a hedge. He lengthened his stride, feeling very much like he had as a young lad playing the different games of hiding he and his brothers had engaged in.
But as he rounded the green corner, she was nowhere to be seen. His feet slowed and dragged in uncertainty. How could he continue to chase after Lady Aribella in such a juvenile manner? Was he still a schoolboy? His mother would raise both eyebrows, certainly. He’d give his brother Marc a running for the designated family flirt. But he continued meandering for a short time more, attempting to also enjoy the surrounding park and greens. Hedgerows stretched in all directions, separated by courtyards with fountains. Many roses and other flowers decorated beds. Benches were placed throughout.
Layton found much to enjoy in the park and planned to return. After he was certain he wouldn’t find Lady Aribella this afternoon, he chided himself for chasing after a whim when he had far more important pursuits.
A full ten days of walking the gardens, reading books in the library, being entertained by the royal house, and seeking an audience with the King while at the same time keeping an almost eager eye watching for Lady Aribella, and Layton thought he might die from lack of anything more productive to do. He was looking forward to this evening’s state dinner with the royal family, where he expected to be able to have a moment with King George.
Layton made his way back to his rooms after a fruitless game of cards, with a small amount of dejection. But the time was nearly upon him to begin preparations for dinner and his evening activities. His man, Brewer, and the new man, Godfrey, stood in the center of the room, waiting. And there appeared to be a bit of a standoff between them.
Each held what looked like material for a cravat. Many pieces of Layton’s clothing laid in different piles on the bed, and the men had obviously been engaged in conversation but clipped it to silence the minute Layton stepped into the room.
“I believe it is time for me to prepare for dinner.” He eyed them both. “Brewer?”
“Yes, Prince Layton, we are just putting together your things now. There seems to be a misunderstanding about the manner in which you wish to present yourself.”
“Yes.” Godfrey cleared his throat. “If I may, I was certain you were hoping to dress in a manner expected in the royal English courts.”
“And I predicted you would prefer to represent Oldenburg in these events.”
Layton looked from one stubborn face to the other and decided on a compromise.
Brewer dressed him in the royal dinner attire of Layton’s country, which was more relaxed, and Godfrey made up Layton’s hair in an English style and shined his boots to perfection. As he looked in the mirror, he had to admit he looked smart and engaging—a good representative of his country and one who would fit in admirably with the others in England’s royal court. Hopefully, he’d be able to convince the King he was a worthy recipient of British aid. He also wanted to request an audience with the naval admiral. Thankfully, a new admiral had come to replace the previous one, whom his father had refused to aid when Layton’s family had visited London just last year. Perhaps the new admiral would agree to help, especially when he heard about pirates pilfering goods to aid Napoleon.
A footman came to fetch him when it was time and led him to the entrance of a great room. Every wall was blue, and Layton found that captivating. Some had tapestries hanging, the threads multiple shades of blue. The other walls were simply painted blue, wall sconces and candles flickering and giving the wall texture and the perception of color depth. The draperies were blue. He would have guessed a person could tire of the color, but he found it charming, at least for the moment.
The master of ceremonies called out, “Prince Layton Christian Wilhelm, Prince of Oldenburg.” A quick survey of the room revealed that the lovely Lady Aribella was not yet in attendance. Perhaps she would not be invited. Perhaps Layton would not see her at any of the royal functions. He couldn’t recall his own mother’s ladies ever socializing in state events—only if she had need of them.
Thoughts of his mother brought a hint of self-conscious questioning. How would she feel if she knew he was so interested in a woman whose job was to wait on the Queen?
His mother would never know. And truthfully, he’d soon be letting go of this fascination, for he had much more important pursuits to occupy his thoughts. Or so he told himself as he scanned the room for any sight of Lady Aribella’s hair.
Prince George looked up from a conversation with a pretty lady in the corner and approached him. “Ah, Prince Layton.” His smile was contagious, and Layton found himself looking forward to the evening. Prince George never seemed to be in the same room as his wife, but he was a jolly man, full of energy, friendly with all.
