Page 17 of A Foreign Crown
“Good to see you again.”
“And you. Father’s encouraged the whole family to attend.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Will he himself be in attendance?”
“I think so. That’s why all the royal dukes are coming. None of my brothers wanted to attend a state dinner, but they will if Father is to show his venerable face.”
Pleased, Layton took a glass from a passing servant. “I look forward to meeting your brothers.”
“They’re a bunch of shallow, fun-draining saps who care only about their own estates and try at all times to vex me.”
Layton could only laugh. “Surely you find other pursuits in which you all can engage.” He missed his own father and the man’s incessant conversation about unity and family gathering and maintaining the closeness they had cultivated all through their youth. Layton’s father insisted upon a gathering every year until forever, certainly.
“What are you smirking about?”
“I was just thinking about fathers and kings and how they find it uncharacteristically vital that we all reunite.”
“Ah yes, so you understand.”
“That I do. My father will have us all married off to half of Europe, but even still, he demands we return every year.”
Prince George raised his glass. “To fathers.”
“To fathers.” As their glasses clinked and Layton drank, he searched the room.
“You seek the lovely Lady Aribella.”
Wine nearly exited Layton’s nose as he snorted and coughed. He forced himself to calm. He was, in fact, seeking her lovely figure, but he claimed a different distraction. “I was hoping to see your father, and your mother, to offer my regards and to speak of other things.”
“And so you shall. You must give precedence to the social niceties, surely, before you speak of war and pirates and whatnot.”
“Of course.” Layton bowed, his impatience simmering just below the surface. “I shan’t launch straight into pirates.” He sipped again. “But perhaps after the first courses.”
The prince laughed as Layton hoped he would. “Come,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to several of the prettier members of our party, who have all been plaguing me for just such an honor.”
“Surely not.” Could they even know of his arrival?
“If you doubt me, you don’t know ourbon ton.” He waved his hand to the room, and as Layton surveyed the swirling colors, he noted most female eyes turned in his direction—but not the pair he most hoped to see.
“They well remember the visit of your family of handsome men from last year, and I can safely guarantee that most feminine figures you see in this room are hoping to become a princess—yourprincess.”
Layton colored in embarrassment. “I’m not sure what to do with so much beauty before me.”
“I shall assist you in at least an introduction; after that, you must make your own way. But before anything might progress beyond a harmless flirtation, you may want to consult me as to family and personality and whatnot. Can’t disturb your father’s sensibilities.”
“Or my mother’s.”
“Ah yes; mothers.” Prince George led him through the room toward a group of lovely ladies in the far corner. “Some things we never tell our mothers.”
From what Layton had heard, there was plenty Prince George likely kept from his mother.
As he and his host approached an expectant group of pretty women, Layton couldn’t help but compare them to the lovely Aribella, with her fresh expression and slight red to her cheeks, her wide eyes and open expressions. There was an honesty to her that was refreshing. And the more he thought about her, the more he wanted to see her again.
Chapter Eight
After ten days of lifeat court, Aribella still did not yet feel completely comfortable. She, Lady Mallory, Lady Oppenheim, and Lady Smithing all waited in the sitting area of Queen Charlotte’s chambers. The ladies would be inspected by Her Majesty herself to ensure their suitability and presentation at court. Usually the Queen was not too fastidious or careful about the appearance of her lady’s maids, Lady Mallory assured Aribella. After all, they were each ladies of fashion or title already and had plenty of experience.
Except for Aribella, of course, but she tried not to feel nervous. Her mother had prepared her, and her own maid, dear Julia, had assured Aribella that she had the requisite clothing. But today she would attend a dinner of state; she and the other ladies would enter with the Queen and remain as close as she desired. The King was expected to attend with them, and Queen Charlotte enjoyed pleasing him as well as presenting herself to the utmost perfection when the King’s mother would be present.
