Page 32 of A Foreign Crown
Princess Mary sidled up to her with eyes full of mischief. “You know you can’t have him.”
Aribella choked and opened her mouth to say something—anything—coherent. “Who?”
The princess scoffed. “You know who. If Mother is interested in him pursuing one of us, then you can’t pursue him.”
“I have no intention of pursuing anyone.”
Princess Mary studied her for a long moment. Though sheltered and assumedly inexperienced in the ways of the Englishton, the princess seemed to have acquired all the proprietary ways of other ladies twice her age. But Aribella had no need to compete with Princess Mary or her sister over a prince who would never be hers no matter what she wanted.
“Of course I’m here to honor your mother’s wishes,” Aribella continued. “You should know that and trust me as she does.”
Princess Mary watched her a moment more and then clung to her arm. “Oh good, because I really wanted to like you.”
Aribella laughed in relief and shared a look with Lady Jennings. The three of them made their way back up the lawn to where Queen Charlotte was reading a book.
The Queen patted the chair next to hers. “Join me, Lady Aribella, and I shall tell you the secrets of our new gardens.”
“Oh, I’d be delighted. I have a great interest in gardening.”
“Your mother told me that about you.”
“She did?” Aribella was inordinately pleased that her mother had spoken of her.
“Certainly. She said of all the places on Earth, you are happiest out
of doors.”
“And she is quite right, though I don’t believe I’ve ever expressed it
out loud.”
“Your mother knew you, as all mothers know their daughters.” Her Majesty watched Princess Elizabeth and Prince Layton approach the King. Her eyes clouded.
“Is he—?”
“He is well today.”
Aribella nodded, relieved. She sat back, determined to enjoy the weather. “Tell me about your children.”
“There are fifteen of them.” Queen Charlotte’s smile was soft and warm. “Perhaps I shall just tell you about a few.”
“Whatever you’d like. I’m very interested.”
The Queen patted her arm. “Thank you.” Then she stared out across the lawn. “I suppose I shall start with the one who most concerns me at the moment.”
Aribella half expected her to name her son George, but instead, she dabbed her eyes and said, “Our dear Amelia is ill again.”
“Amelia?”
“Yes, our youngest, the delight of her father’s eye. We’ve sent her away to heal, but this time, she’s quite ill, and we are without other options.”
Aribella shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“There is, of course, always hope. Her father refuses to believe she is more than a little ill. He keeps talking of her visiting her relatives and saying she will return as sound as she ever was.” The Queen clenched her fists. “But I fear the worst.”
Aribella nodded. “Now I as well.”
“You are a dear. We will know of her state with the next letter.”
