Page 46 of A Foreign Crown
“Oh my.” The room was spread out, large and comfortable. Windows lined one wall. A door on the other end of the room looked to exit into her actual bedchambers. “This will be quite lovely.”
The maid left her, and Aribella went to the windows. With a smile, she was grateful her room faced the parkland. The Queen’s house sat on the other side of the land. The river weaved along the great expanse of green. It comforted her, but she missed the sea. She missed the moors. She missed her father, her servants. The simplicity of even their impoverished life felt far superior to this one of intrigue, lies, and subterfuge.
She’d tried not to lie. She’d carefully expressed the Queen’s wishes. The Queen herself had said the King was only in mourning, that he would suffer for the loss of his daughter were she to pass away.
Aribella hoped that would not happen. Surely, there was some manner in which to spare the woman. But she didn’t even know where she’d gone. After that first day of seeing her run about the front room, Aribella had not seen her again. They’d sent her somewhere to heal, the Queen had said.
Down below in the gardens, a familiar figure caught her eye. Prince Layton. And she couldn’t help but smile. In the secrecy of her own chambers, she allowed herself to admire the man. He was everything a prince should be. Thoughts of her gliding around the ballroom in his arms made her blush. What a beautiful moment, one she’d remember all her life. Would any waltz ever be as magical as that had been?
Not even a complete waltz. She snorted. Prince George’s company had paled in comparison. She giggled. Although, he was vastly amusing. She’d laughed the entirety of their dance together.
She leaned her forehead on the glass, watching Prince Layton amble through the hedgerows.
Then he turned his face up and stared straight at her.
Her gasp filled the room, and she forced her feet to stay put, though everything in her shouted to hide. She’d been caught watching him in the privacy of his moments in the garden.
His gaze, though far below, intruded into her space, filled the air around her with expectation, fluttered her stomach, and almost stopped her breath.
Then he lifted a hand and nodded.
She pressed her palm against the glass, staring down at him until he nodded again and turned to continue his walk.
Should she join him? She wanted more than anything to walk at his side. Dare she?
She would need his help, would she not? Should she confide in him her assignments? He would certainly want to know,needto know, if he were to help his country, but her purpose during her time at St. James’s was to convince everyone of the King’s sanity. She couldn’t accomplish such a thing and raise doubt in even one person.
She’d told the Queen she would push him away. In a manner of speaking, she would aid in his ability to see the princesses as someone of interest—as if they were one woman. What would they do if he actually chose one over the other? That family was destined for heartbreak no matter what happened with regard to Prince Layton.
To run as she desired, to walk at his side, to feel of his strength, to enjoy the warmth of his affection would be expressly against the Queen’s hopes.
Her breath fogged up the glass of her window.
Today might be the most difficult of all her days so far at court.
Chapter Sixteen
Layton had turned away fromLady Aribella with great difficulty. Even acknowledging her presence, lifting his hand, nodding—could he not see how deferential treatment in any way was harmful to her and to his chances of receiving aid for his country?
And yet he’d felt her gaze. He could not avoid greeting her any more than he could step away from food at his table. But why was she at St. James’s? He knew the Queen—and, he had assumed, her ladies’ maids—were still sequestered off at Buckingham House.
Prinny had planned a luncheon in Layton’s honor today. Members of the navy and other military were invited, along with their wives and other members of court.
Layton’s step picked up as he imagined Lady Aribella at his side. The thought gave him strength. Perhaps he could ask her to attend as well. Would that be inappropriate?
He turned from his walk and hurried back into the house. He told Godfrey he would like to invite Lady Aribella and was informed she’d come at the request of the Queen to join him at the luncheon.
Interesting. The Queen herself had made the request. Could he hope she had changed her expectations?
The hours passed quickly, and soon it was time for him to make his way into one of the larger receiving rooms. Tables had been set and a sizable number of chairs placed. The room was beautifully appointed. And for a moment, he paused in gratitude for the graciousness of his hosts. He knew England valued his country, desired good relations with them. He knew they wanted to be of assistance, and for that, he was supremely grateful.
He waited in the front receiving room while everyone gathered. Admiral Hollings arrived, and Layton went to greet him. “I’m so happy you could attend.”
“Pleased to do so. As I told you the other night, the most adept move on either of our parts will be for us to join forces.”
“Excellent. My father has also decided our country’s best course of action would be to unite our efforts against Napoleon. The man cannot be allowed to continue.”
“Truer words were never spoken.” The admiral’s wife approached. “Allow me to introduce you,” he said and reached for her hand. “My wife, Mrs. Hollings. And this is Prince Layton of Oldenburg.”
