Page 53 of A Foreign Crown
“But I don’t know anymore. I suppose I am happy to have a possible offer from a good person and to have a place to live—my own home. I may not get another. But is that what I really and truly want? I no longer know.” She stepped nearer to Prince Layton without even thinking about it and did not step back, even though she could almost feel the rise and fall of each of his breaths.
He leaned closer, his arm reaching out to her and then falling, his chin almost brushing the top of her head, and then the air chilled between them as he increased the distance. “And I am bound.”
“You are?” Had their countries formed an agreement already?
“In duty only. But to me, duty is as binding as word.”
“Duty to earn the assistance for your ocean border?”
“Yes. What it will require from me I don’t know. What must I promise away in order to help my country? My life? My love? I don’t dare hear the answer.” He lifted her hand again and bowed over it. “And do you know why?”
“You don’t want to have to face what you must do?”
He shook his head. “I know what the answer would be. I cannot allow myself to desert country and duty, even though my heart calls out for me to do so.” His lips lingered on the back of her hand. Then he turned her hand over and pressed his mouth one time in the center of her palm. “When I long to follow the burning desires of my heart, to explore the happiness I might feel with another, duty’s call sounds far and quiet next to the pounding in my ears.”
She swallowed, completely taken by his beautiful sincerity, his powerful words. What more could she do but nod and succumb? She again stepped closer, her body yearning for him and the feel of his arms, the welcome softness of his kiss.
But he only pressed his lips one more time to the back of her hand and then offered her his arm. “And now I must exit this room and call for our carriage to return to St. James’s.”
Her shoulders dropped, but she nodded. They began walking toward the door, and she said, “There is work for me to do there in easing the concern that the King will lose his mind.”
Prince Layton jerked his face in her direction. “Even now you must continue the ruse? Surely all will soon be known.”
She regretted her slip, knowing all of this information was meant to be kept quiet. But Prince Layton was bound to hear it from someone if not her. “Most everyone knows the King had a bout of madness years ago. And they worry one day it will return. Since I haven’t heard otherwise and I’m unlikely to do so, I must suppose they wish to keep the truth hidden for as long as possible.” To herself she admitted the King likely had small bouts of instability all the time. Whether he was totally mad was doubtful, but she’d seen enough to be greatly concerned. As she watched Prince Layton’s face, she realized he deserved to know the truth. She looked over her shoulder. “Come. Let us talk outside.”
They walked along the front of the house until they were a good enough distance away that servants would not hear them. “The King is perhaps not as stable as the Queen would like me to present to everyone.”
Layton nodded.
“He has bouts of great emotional distress. I have not seen evidence that his mind is gone, but that he is uncontrollably sad Ihaveseen.”
Prince Layton frowned.
“I think you are wise to be gathering a loyal group of powerful friends who could grant you your fleet if the King were to lose lucidity.”
“Do you think such a thing likely?”
She shrugged. “I hardly know. He has bouts. Is he in one? That is the question.”
He was silent for so long while they walked that she didn’t know if he still thought of her at all.
“If the King is not the one I must petition for help, an alliance with one of his daughters might not be so very vital,” he said.
“True.” Aribella smiled. “But it might.”
“But truly, they are in mourning.” He reached for a piece of her hair, then trailed his fingers along her face.
“They are in mourning.” She sucked in a breath, hope rushing through her.
He stepped nearer, his arms suddenly around her back, cradling her in a thrilling warmth. It was as close as she’d ever been to a man.
“Being deprived of the delicious prospect of a closeness with you simply because somethingmightbe helpful no longer seems like a good enough reason to stay away from you.” His eyes seemed to ask her questions. She couldn’t translate precisely what he wanted most to know, but as his gaze dropped to her mouth and then went back to her eyes, she knew the foremost question on his mind, and suddenly she could think of nothing else in the world that mattered but her answer to his desire.
She lifted her chin and swallowed. “I think it might be a terrible waste.”
“Might it?”
“Yes, to miss certain things simply because of amaybe.” She wet her lips, and then he pressed his mouth to hers. His arms pulled her more tightly to him, his mouth gently, carefully moving over hers—once, twice, a third time before he pulled away, still holding her as close as he was able.
