Page 4 of A Foreign Crown
Aribella smiled. “I didn’t know that.”
He closed his eyes, his mouth turned up in a contented smile. “I feel closest to her here.”
His face smoothed in such a peaceful serenity that she shifted her gaze quietly out to the lands of their estate. The rolling hills of the great Northern England landscape spread in all directions. She knew she would soon see a patchwork of green as spring unfurled. But she would not be seeing any crops; the income the tenants so very much needed in order to sow the fields would not allow for them to do so this spring.
She couldn’t blame the tenants for deserting the estate. For too many years, the weather had been inhospitable to successful growth. The tenants had been forced to move, or they would soon have run out of food. But this year... this year promised good weather. If only they had someone to plant for them... or seeds to plant.
“You carry a burden not meant for your shoulders, I’m afraid.” Her father’s kindly eyes lowered in concern. “I would that I could spare you. Perhaps... This Lord Bartholomew comes to visit. Perhaps we should pass the burden off to him. And then the royal summons will be a nice retreat for you.”
She knew her father looked forward with pride for the letter from the palace, but Aribella could think of it for only a moment before panic quickened her breathing. “The summons is meant for Mother, for a duchess. Surely they would not desire her daughter.”
Her father’s frail hand patted her own, and the strength his weakened fingers sent to her in a great rush of love and fatherly concern almost brought tears to her eyes. “It is our family honor to send a lady-in-waiting and our privilege to serve the Queen herself these many years. Your mother was Queen Charlotte’s most trusted companion for many years—the only one she could trust in that household, I’d imagine. We cannot leave her friendless.”
But Aribella felt she did not know enough of the ways of court. She had been trained by her mother, naturally, but not in the tricks of deceit and subterfuge that were apparently a way of life even among members of the royal family.
Her father’s confidence in her, his pride in their duty to the Crown, his strength that shimmered through her—all wrapped up in his love for her—held her tongue against the flood of insecurity at her lips, and she longed for her mother with a sharpness that cut to her core.
“I shall try to make Mother—our family—proud.” Her role could be a moment of success for the Sumter estate and perhaps bring greater success and wealth through new relationships with the royal family and others she might meet. “But, Father. The servants... you. Who shall look after things if I go?”
“The servants, of course. I shall be perfectly well.”
Perhaps he would be, but she hated to leave him. Perhaps the summons would not come.
Chapter Three
Layton stood in great frustration.“We must do something to rid our shores of pirates.”
His father’s counselor, Lord Herrman Wright, raised his nose. “I would think that the navy’s responsibility. Are you not engaged in doing that very thing every day?”
Layton tried to ignore the suggestion of his ineptitude. “We are, to a point. But we are inhibited by our own country’s policies. That is exactly why I am asking the advisors and the King for permission to protect our borders, to engage withallof the threats.”
His father, who had been staring out of a window at their harbor and the blue water that stretched to the sky, turned to face him. “I hear what you are saying, son.”
Layton trusted his father, his years of experience on the throne. He trusted his older brothers, who all sat on the council with him in ruling their nation. But he didn’t think they understood the situation, or if they did, they were grossly mistaken in their understanding of the possible solutions. He spoke again. “The French are robbing us. They are almost cutting off all supplies to our country. Under the guise and protection of the laws protecting privateers, we cannot treat a response as an act of war, but I say we retaliate as if it is just that.”
His father looked troubled. Layton had given him reason to doubt his previous strong stance against any violence on their shores—the King preferred to remain neutral—but his father said, “We have committed to our people and to each other not to join in the war with Napoleon. Confronting a French flag would be seen as an act of war, as you said. Do we wish for such a thing?”
“That is precisely why they fly that flag when they come into port. They fly the flags of our friendsandour enemies. You can be sure they aren’t flying the French colors when they land in England.” Layton measured his words. “But the ship that sits in our harbor right now, theMarengo, flew the Jolly Roger just outside our shores. We saw it ourselves; they fired warning guns at my ship, taunting us, and then settled themselves in peace at our harbor under the French colors.”
“But what can we do? If they are so bold as to fly the colors of another country, how can we know whom we fire upon?” Lord Wright frowned.
Layton chose his words carefully. “We cannot be certain they are not employed by another nation as privateers. We just don’t know. But if they stop our ships and steal our goods, we have a duty to fire upon them, board their ships, and send them on their way.” He looked into the face of each person on the committee. “No matter what flag they fly, even a French one.”
A few of his brothers sucked in their breath. Layton turned to his eldest brother, Hayes, who cleared his throat. “We have seen evidence that countries employ pirates,” Hayes said. “They could be flying their colors or the Jolly Roger under a stamped letter of marque from the French.”
The silence in the room felt thick.
Layton’s father stood taller and ran a hand down his beard. “If what you say is true and they are under French employ, then their attacking and plundering of our ships is an act of war. I see the sense in what you are trying to say, Layton. While trying to stay out of this war, we have unknowingly been aiding Napoleon by allowing him to pillage our ships and steal our resources.”
The room’s uproar eased some of Layton’s concern. At last, they were taking him seriously. Perhaps now he would not have to watch with hands tied while the very ships that pillaged his own arrived in Oldenburg’s harbor, hiding stolen goods and pretending diplomacy with his family’s royal court.
Lord Wright cleared his throat. “But is our navy of sufficient strength to engage this threat? Engaging with a privateer when you see one is not nearly the same as openly challenging the French. We are hardly a world power.” He dipped his head in Layton’s direction as if trying to take away the sting of his words.
Layton stood, ignoring the counselor. “I am requesting permission to build our navy—more ships, more man power. We have an ocean border that will not stay safe simply by declaring our own impartiality in the turmoil that is going on around us. We are in the gravest situation if we become a takeover temptation to another country of greater power.”
“Like France.” Hayes at last had joined him. Layton nodded at his brother gratefully. Hayes would be an excellent king when his turn came.
Layton sat again and watched the conversations around him at the great table. Perhaps they had just accepted the inevitable. Of his brothers, most would support a stronger presence, a stronger show of force on the water, especially along Oldenburg’s borders. Layton knew if the conversation continued, he would at last be free to protect their nation.
