Page 38 of A Foreign Crown
Too many days later, daysof hearing nothing from the King and seeing precious little of Lady Aribella, Layton stood at the entrance to a London ball. Godfrey had overdressed him, and Brewer had stood looking on. Layton felt like a stuffed peacock, but the man had insisted that a London ball was the place to look overly dressed.
As he looked around, he could see Godfrey was correct, for the most part. But here and there, clusters of men stood in sensible clothes. Layton knew immediately who his set would be, were he to linger in London. Without a doubt, he would be much more comfortable with those of the drab blacks and grays and tans. But would the sensibly dressed want anything to do with him? One look and they would place him with the other dandies he saw pandering about.
His jacket had embroidery in colorful pinks and reds. His breeches fit snugger than he’d ever worn them, and his cravat filled the space below his chin with such a cascading white filler that he wasn’t sure if he could see his toes.
But when Lady Aribella looked twice, a soft smile curling her lips, he complained no more about his dress. The gleam of appreciation in her eye before she turned away warmed him to his toes.
The hostess of this ball, a Lady Townsend, approached. “I would be honored to make some introductions for you, if you’ll allow me.”
“That would be much appreciated.” He bowed.
She led him about the room, resting her hand on his arm. Soon he was acquainted with more people than he could ever remember. And he was astounded at the beauty of the women in the room. His parents had not been wrong that he would have ample opportunity in England to find someone suitable to court. The problem was, of course, that he didn’t want to find anyone.
Lady Aribella’s face came into his mind. Perhaps he had already found someone. But she had alluded that she was considering marriage to the man to whom her estate was entailed. She would be very wise to accept the man’s offer. Layton would recommend such a thing to almost anyone of his acquaintance. But she hadn’t said whether or not she liked him, and Layton found himself greatly concerned and hoping she would at least like the man she married.
The master of ceremonies called out, “Her Most Gracious Majesty, Queen Charlotte. His Highness, the Prince of Wales; Princess Elizabeth; Princess Mary.”
Gasps followed that announcement, and then the room went silent as everyone dipped in a curtsy or a bow. So deep in his thoughts was Layton that even he hadn’t noticed the new arrivals until they were announced. He turned toward them and bowed deeply.
Queen Charlotte nodded to the room at large. For a moment, she reminded Layton of his own mother. So often a queen’s responsibilities and even her bearing were the same, no matter what country she hailed from.
Layton craned his neck to catch a glimpse of Lady Aribella, but he didn’t see her. The Queen and princesses made their way straight to him.
He bowed. “Your Majesty, Princess Elizabeth, Princess Mary.”
The princesses each took one of his arms.
Queen Charlotte nodded and smiled. “We didsowant to take a turn on the dance floor with you that we had to come.”
“I am honored by the distinction.”
The music started, and he turned to Princess Mary. “Would you like to be the first?”
She lifted her chin and held her head high, then curtsied to him. He led her out to the floor, and everyone around them kept half an eye on the pair while moving in the steps of the dance. They’d joined a waltz square. Layton was pleased their steps were the same as those in his country. The lead couple chose the exact manner in which they were to proceed.
Princess Mary was a proficient dancer and jovial by nature. “Oh, this is lovely. I don’t often get to come to such a ball.” She looked away and then, with pink cheeks, she sighed. “To be honest, I’ve never been and likely shall never go again, except to those hosted at St. James’s.”
“Do you attend only royal parties?”
“Yes, if we are permitted. Most of the time, I don’t attend anything
at all.”
“Then, the nobility in England has missed one of its finer jewels.”
She dipped her head with what Layton considered might be her first sense of modesty.
As their set came to a close, his gaze returned to where they had been standing before, in search of Princess Elizabeth. His eyes stopped on Lady Aribella. She wasn’t looking in his direction, but he was moved by the sight of her. Her complexion shone in the candlelight. Her eyes sparkled with energy. And then she curtsied, and another man bowed, and Layton suddenly wished to be hovering over Lady Aribella instead of dancing with the princess.
Princess Mary pouted about the dance being over, and he led her back to her mother.
They’d moved to some chairs along the wall. “And now, if I might have a dance with the lovely Princess Elizabeth?” He bowed in front of her.
She curtsied, and he repeated the experience, except this time they danced an English country dance. He watched the first couple carefully and picked up the pattern quickly.
“You are a wonderful dancer. Do they have these same formations in your country?” Princess Elizabeth said.
“Not precisely, no, but similar. And thank you; you are also a proficient.”
