Page 50 of A Foreign Crown
Layton nodded. He had to acknowledge to himself the obvious fact that he and Lady Aribella were more suitable for each other the more time they spent together. But suitability did not change their impossible situation.
The meal continued, and Layton attempted to talk to anyone at the table but Lady Aribella, but her small reactions beside him, her very presence, the conversations she was having on her other side held so firm a place in his awareness that when she mentioned something about returning home, he stopped midconversation with Mrs. Hollings and turned to her. “Will you be returning home soon?”
Everyone near eyed him with different expressions—mostly surprise, some amusement.
Lady Aribella stammered, “Oh, well—you see, of course I shall go home when my duties here are complete.”
“Yes, apologies. I understand.”
She’d said that before. He attempted to return to the conversation he’d just so abruptly ended but couldn’t remember what he’d been discussing. An awkward pause followed until Prince George clapped his hands again. “And now we must take a tour of the grounds.”
He stood, and the others stood with him. As they began to exit the room, Prince George placed a hand on Layton’s arm.
Lady Aribella hurried from the room with the others without so much as looking back.
Prince George shook his head. Once everyone had left the room, he waved his hand in a flourish. “Are you daft?”
“I most certainly am not.”
“Are you here to find your love, marry, and return to your romantic castle on the craggy rocks?”
“No.”
“Then, consider, man. She’s lovely. You are obviously well suited. But will Mother approve? Will Father support the efforts of the man who thwarted the marital hopes of one of his daughters?”
“Our conversations are getting repetitive,” Layton said without humor.
Prinny shrugged. “I told you I’m happy to aid in anything hidden from my parents, but these interactions in the general public... well, I’ve warned you.”
Layton agreed with the prince. He wasn’t sure what else he should have done since the Queen herself had sent Lady Aribella to participate and the lady was seated at his side for the luncheon.
“Knowing you would be present, it was Mother’s request that she come,” Prince George said then.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Nor I, but she seems to think it is important for your little Lady Aribella to be everywhere right now, and perhaps she trusts in your care of her.” He laughed. “Can’t say I blame her. I’m not the safest place for a beautiful lady who values her reputation.”
Layton didn’t have the stomach to laugh at the prince’s vulgarity, though His Highness thought himself hilarious, by all appearances.
As they made their way outside to walk through the gardens, Layton stayed back with Prince George. After listening to him talk of all his latest gambles, the marvelous hells in London, and the improvements he hoped to make at Carlton House if only Parliament would grant him an increase in his allowance, Layton decided he had to convince the English prince to be on board to help him in a timely manner. Perhaps the presence of Lady Aribella would aid Layton. A new focus on enlisting her assistance for his purpose eased his concern and gave him a heady rising of happiness that he had a legitimate reason to see her again and hope that perhaps Prince George would be the one to exert influence on Layton’s behalf.
Chapter Seventeen
Aribella stayed as far awayfrom Prince Layton as she could. His voice was like a magic tremor that shook her core, dissolving resistance and resolve, leaving a mush of eagerness in its wake. His country sounded lovely. And more, as he’d spoken of the wind and the water, of the upper windows and the craggy rocks, she could picture each of the scenes, just as she’d wanted him to describe them to her. She saw him in his home in her mind; she imagined she was with him. Everything about his country in her imagination felt like home to her.
And though, before, she’d never wanted to be anywhere but her own home, she now harbored a new and wild desire to see Prince Layton’s country, its bordering sea, his ship, and his home. Which, of course, was another impossibility. She shook her head.
She’d done well by way of the Queen’s task. Every one of the visitors had been told clearly and repetitively how well the King was, how healthy. She could report that most concurred that he was suitable to the task of ruling the country. He was well liked. The people seemed to respect King George.
As the tour came to an end, she knew Prince George would soon be making his way to Carlton House with Prince Layton, and she was to accompany them. She slowed her feet as everyone entered the house and was led by the staff to the front entry, where their carriages lined the drive. She held back when she noticed that Prince Layton was doing so as well. It wouldn’t do for them to be seen waiting alone, watching all the guests depart. She made her way into another front room area, which had a harp. Her heart lifted, and her fingers itched to try it. She hadn’t played in many years, but perhaps she could make good on the instrument if she tried something simple.
She sat on the stool and reached her hands out to the strings, her pinky and thumb plucking together, her hands brushing over the strings. Soon, after a few mishaps and some clunky rhythm, she was accustomed to the instrument and the song, and she began to sing.
The melody began slowly and then picked up, the words sounding almost raucous until they slowed again, and the sorrowful words about a sailor felt drawn and sincere, her voice crooning out his story. The last notes carried over for many moments before she blinked and returned to the present.
Clapping brought her attention to the doorway, where Prince George and Prince Layton stood.
“Wonderful!” Prince George exclaimed. “You must play for us at a gathering I’m having tomorrow night. They would love you. You’ll be the new darling of theton.”
