Page 43 of A Foreign Crown
And that was where he would utterly fail in regard to the Queen and her daughters. He had been honest with them. He enjoyed their interactions, enjoyed their friendships, had considered an alliance, had wondered what his parents would think, but in all, he had not the slightest interest in a love match with either princess.
Not like the kind of match he would happily consider with Lady Aribella. He’d never had such a reaction to another woman.
Their waltz had been a piece of heaven. Their feet had glided effortlessly around the room, her small frame in his hands, her smile wide, her eyes soft. He had been enchanted and caught up again in happy thoughts of many long conversations with her.
His feet trudged heavily back toward St. James’s. As his mind went over his next course of action, one thing became clear: if he was ever to see Lady Aribella again, it would be away from the watching eyes of any of the royal court.
He should have decided then and there not to make any effort to see her or engage her in conversation—certainly not to find time alone—but he couldn’t think such thoughts. A part of him harbored a hope they could come across one another again in the dark of night, wandering the gardens. To what purpose? He didn’t care. He knew his feelings were dangerous to his cause, but something about her trusting eyes had undone much of his resistance to her.
But now, for her, he would not bring any greater problems where eyes could see.
He made his way around to the front of St. James’s.
A carriage pulled up as he came closer. Prinny waved a hand. “Just the prince I was hoping to see. Come, join me.”
Layton groaned inside, then waved back and picked up his pace to join Prince George in the carriage.
As soon as Layton was seated, Prinny shook his head. “You know you’ve made a mess of things.”
“I did not intend to give the impression of anything more than friendship to your sisters.”
“Regardless of intent, you’ve all but sealed your fate.”
“Have I?” He suspected Prinny was right, and he most desperately sought a way out of his dilemma.
“Most certainly. And what hope have you now to ever see the beautiful Lady Aribella again?”
Layton sighed. “None.”
“Well now, perhapsnevermight be a bit extreme, for I see whomever I like when I like, but she is a lady-in-waiting.”
He nodded.
The prince clucked. “I’m happy you’ve seen wisdom in taking greater care with your dalliances.”
Layton was incredibly affronted with the word, but he said only, “She would never be a dalliance.”
But the prince had moved on, apparently. “So which of my sisters do you prefer?”
“This is hardly appropriate.”
“Of course it’s appropriate. Do you not wish to have more attention from the one you prefer, or do you enjoy having them both clamoring for a glance from Your Highness?”
“Nothing of the kind, I assure you. I have merely not thought of either of them in that manner. In our few brief interactions, I’ve enjoyed them both. Their friendship has been diverting, and I’ve been made very comfortable in their home.”
“Ah, insisting on playing it safe, are you? Well, I respect such a strategy. Off with you now. I’m going to return to Carlton House... you are welcome too, if you’re tired of St. James’s and wish to join me.”
“I thank you, but...” Unless... could he sleep at Carlton House and slip out more often to visit Lady Aribella? From farther distance? He shook his head. Oh, what did he know? Nothing at all. That was the problem. So he refrained from further comment.
He stepped out of the carriage and made his way up the steps to St. James’s with heavier shoes than he’d ever worn, still unsure about a great many things but certain he and Lady Aribella could no longer be.
Chapter Fifteen
Aribella had still not thoughtof how to respond to Lord Bartholomew or her father and left her bedroom the next morning, still with no letter written. As she made her way into the breakfast room, a servant approached, face flushed. “The Queen will be needing you this minute in her chambers.”
Aribella changed directions and rushed as quickly as she could to answer the summons from the Queen, hoping Her Majesty didn’t feel the need to reiterate any more sentiments from before. Aribella understood completely and didn’t think she could withstand further demands on her personal behavior.
As she approached the Queen’s bedchamber, the loud sobbing of a man filled her with worry. “She’s getting worse,” the King moaned. Then he called out, “We can’t lose our angel.”
