Page 42 of A Foreign Crown
“Do you wish for me to avoid him?”
“I don’t see how there can be any other choice, do you?”
Aribella could think of many pleasanter choices but none that would make the Queen happy. “I suppose not.”
“I am pleased we are in agreement. Now, I wonder what more we can do for your father, for your estate?”
Aribella’s hope lit.
“Perhaps I shall have someone look into a distinction from the Crown, an endowment of some sort, to keep that seat in the House of Lords successful? Your family’s input on our shores and international shores has been invaluable.”
“Oh, thank you, Your Majesty. I don’t know what to say.”
“There are rewards for loyalty to the Crown.”
The Queen leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I am quite fatigued and happy that we do not often attend a ball with members of theton.”
Aribella nodded, but the Queen did not see, and then she fussed inside. She fumed. She groaned and complained silently at the injustice of such a selfish request from the Queen. But her face remained a blank mask. Did she expect anything different from the royal family? Her mother’s own words came back to her: “Remember that the Queen and her family always put themselves first, and they expect the same from you. In their minds, the behavior isn’t selfish; it is a service to all of England.” And yet, Aribella should be grateful. The Queen might help to save the Sumter estate. But perhaps feelings of gratitude would come tomorrow.
They traveled the rest of the way in silence.
When at last Aribella was in the quiet of her bedchambers, she paced back and forth, trying to sort through her feelings, her dilemmas, and the decisions she must make.
She had a very logical, timely offer to marry the future Duke of Sumter. She had a man who intrigued her and showed interest in her who also lay within the sights of the Queen of England, whose two daughters were actively seeking his attention, a man who must return home and take care of his country, who would never live on or near her estate. She had a father who was encouraging and supportive of an alliance with the first man. Prince Layton had not indicated any kind of permanent interest, nor had he given her any reason other than to suppose he would pursue one of the princesses, because that decision would help his own country.
The choice seemed obvious. She should return home after her time as a lady-in-waiting and accept a courtship and suit from Lord Bartholomew.
Her face crumpled. She brought a hand up to her forehead while one tear escaped.
Why could she not be happy about what was obviously the best choice?
With hands now wrapped around her middle, she walked to the window, immediately searching the grounds for a lone man. Because he had warm, chocolate-brown eyes, because his nose wrinkled on the end when he teased. Because he was gallant and caring. Because she was drawn to him as she’d never been drawn to another person.
After watching for several minutes and seeing no one, she stepped away and rang for her maid, Dorcas, to help her undress. Tomorrow would bring about her new efforts to shun the best and most intriguing man she’d ever met.
Layton watched Lady Aribella’s window from way down below until the flickering of her candlelight went out. When she’d come to stand at the window, he’d frozen, knowing he would be invisible in the darkness of the shadows where he stood. Seeing her hadn’t helped his confusion. He’d hoped that somehow, being near would encourage him, empower him to choose wisely. But alas, his feelings had only descended into the more desperate realms of despair, for he’d made a rather large mistake. But he didn’t know what else he could have done. In entertaining the princesses, he’d locked himself into a diplomatic relationship with their family—one that controlled his ability to petition for their aid.
He’d thought that by responding and catering to the family’s needs, he would gain opportunity to converse with the King, and he’d been correct. What he hadn’t fully foreseen was the princesses’ desperate desires to escape, to marry, to latch on to him so fully. The switching of waltz partners told him exactly what his future interactions with Lady Aribella must be—nonexistent—and that the Queen was determined to encourage an understanding between him and her daughters. He supposed such a thing would be advantageous for both countries. He’d thought of all of this before, naturally, but then his thoughts had wandered with the freedom of one who was merely supposing.
Now he felt that, even without his having attempted any such thing, he was tied to a pursuance of one of the daughters of the throne of England. Would he be required to give an explanation if his attentions wandered elsewhere? If they wandered to a lady-in-waiting?
Lady Aribella.
The Queen couldn’t be pleased with her lady-in-waiting. He’d been daft, he realized now. Matters of love required as much strategy as did the naval operations. And he’d used none at all.
He would now need to avoid Lady Aribella if he was to keep her from disappointing the Queen and to perhaps avoid negative repercussions.
And what must he do to secure British aid? Must he give up his ability to choose the woman at his side? Or must he continue to befriend the family, taking care not to make any promises or behave in any matter that could be construed as romantic and then return home without having offered for one of the princesses’ hands?
He was at a loss and missed his father greatly for his counsel and wisdom. Father had always seemed unruffled by problems of the heart. Layton’s mother would also be able to advise him. He shook his head, turning away from the Queen’s house. Whoever thought he would be a success in the English court was daft indeed.
He ignored the quiet voice that reminded him that that same father who provided wise counsel had expressed great confidence in his ability to succeed.
And Layton had succeeded so far. Prince George had introduced him to Admiral Hollings and several others, all of whom had invited him to White’s tomorrow to discuss matters further. They were all in great support of sending a contingent straightaway, with the promise of more support in the coming months.
The King had promised, and now Layton would talk to those who might actually be able to move forward the King’s promises.
But in matters of women and relationships and vying for friends, he was deplorably unqualified, for he’d just as soon carry on honest friendships with people, unconcerned with what he might gain from them.
