Page 36 of A Foreign Crown
“Because as I listened to him speak, the words felt empty. He made easy promises, assurances without the consult of his cabinet, if he has one, without talking to Parliament; no military advisors were consulted. I hear he has long been out of sorts with his former chief minister about these sorts of matters.”
“You’re concerned he won’t follow through.”
“A bit. That sounds ungrateful and wretched doesn’t it, to accuse His Majesty of insincerity?”
She thought for a moment. “No, neither. I think instead you sound perceptive.”
He nodded, and his chin lifted, the sun shining on his closed eyes. “I suppose. I hope I am incorrect and that his man will contact me and give me the plans for my return to my country, two full ships in tow.” His gaze flicked to hers. “Though, some aspects of my visit to England will be missed.”
She looked at her toes, suddenly afraid of his sincere intensity.
“Lady Aribella.” His soft voice drew her attention back to his face.
“Yes?”
“I will miss you most dearly, I’m afraid.”
She breathed, “You will?”
“I can’t be certain, having never parted from you. And we haven’t known each other for very long, but I think I can safely guess that when I return home and I’m looking out over the water in our beautiful bay, I will feel a new, delightful part of my life is missing. And it will feel as though I have a hole to be filled.”
His face was kind, his eyes genuine. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was he declaring himself? Was he speaking of friendship only or something more?
Her fumbling brain wasn’t forming phrases for her to use, but nevertheless words must be spoken. He searched her eyes, his gaze traveled over her face, and for a brief second, he might have lingered on her lips. Her heart rate picked up, scaring away more words.
“I—don’t know what to say.”
“I’m sorry.” He tilted his head to the side. “I didn’t mean to be so bold.” He looked away, and she regretted causing him embarrassment.
“No, it’s not that at all.” She rallied strength for what she must say. “What I mean is that it’s all so wonderful; I’m not able to form the words I need. I wish I could be as bold, as open...” She looked away, then found his gaze again. “But you know, the princesses, the Queen...”
His eyes turned troubled. “They don’t draw me in like you do. It is entirely unfair for them to even try to compete with this connection I feel with you. I feel as if you are a dear, dear friend—one I’ve known my whole life.”
“Friend. Yes.” How could a heart be full of equal parts relief and sorrow? She didn’t know, but hers was. She’d misunderstood. He found in her friendship only. They were partners, new to the royal household together, and had helped each other. “We should share news as we hear it, help each other best perform what is expected.”
“Oh yes, that would be just the thing for me.” He began a slow walk. “I would be very interested to know, for example, if the King shows any signs of moving forward with his promises to me.”
“And I would like to know if there is talk of the Queen. I don’t quite comprehend her standing here—who supports her, who doesn’t. Your perception of the workings of this royal household would help me. I am at such a loss to understand sometimes.”
“I would be happy to provide my eyes and ears, so to speak, if you will do the same.”
“And we can meet in the garden where we met that night.” She hoped he remembered. Perhaps he wouldn’t. She knew he had other things weighing him down.
“I have a confession,” he said.
“Yes?”
“That garden is a place of solace to me now. Even if I’m not in it, I am looking toward it, or if I’m there, I’m watching for you, hoping you might be wandering nearby yourself.”
Astounded at his words, she couldn’t speak again. But he seemed perfectly at ease, earnest, and almost casual. So this was the manner in which he spoke to his friends. She shook her head.
“Do you not approve?”
“Oh no, I’m sorry. You are just so full of beautiful words; I can’t make you out.”
“Would you like to?”
She started to nod and then stopped. “We should get back.”
