Page 57 of A Foreign Crown
“Princess, I think we should open the door.” He took a step in that direction. She scurried to his front to block his way. He frowned. “Do you happen to know why I was summoned?”
She moved her hands up his forearm and to his shoulders, then down the front of his chest. “Mother asked me to come to you, to—”
The door opened with a bang. King George marched furiously into
the room.
“Father!” Princess Mary moved to stand in front of Layton.
“Get away from her, you foreign pig!” The King’s eyes bulged, his face a bright red, his breath coming quickly, spittle flying.
“I beg your pardon.” Layton held his hands out to his side. “Nothing—”
“I said get away!” The King threw a vase to the floor and moved toward them.
“Father, please, find yourself. Please.” The pleading tone in Princess Mary’s voice gave Layton pause.
So this was one version of the mad King George. A terrible sight indeed.
“You think you can come here, disrupt my family, steal away another of my daughters? They’ve already taken Amelia. I won’t let you have Mary as well. Get out! Go back to your country, alone.” He approached and was almost upon them. Princess Mary’s body trembled in front of Layton, but she held her ground. Quite an impressive feat considering what barreled in their direction.
“George, no!” Queen Charlotte shrieked from the entryway.
But none reached in time to stop the King from reaching forward, shoving Princess Mary aside by the action, and grabbing Layton by the lapels. The princess wisely stayed back.
The King’s hands were like iron talons and moved to encircle Layton’s throat. “You will leave this minute, before I personally throw you out.”
“I will.” Layton’s airway began to feel tight. Would the King attempt to strangle him?
Five footmen entered and raced toward their king, and a soft gasp made its way into Layton’s consciousness, because the owner of the sound never truly left his mind. Lady Aribella stood in the doorway, a hand over her mouth.
The footmen reached Layton and with great difficulty wrestled their King away. Two of them draped what looked to be a large sheet or blanket across the King and began to wrap him in it. Around the fabric went, bundling the King until no matter how he strained, he was powerless and mostly immobile. They dipped a struggling and shouting king back, and the five men lifted him, carrying him from the room.
Once that group left, the thick silence remaining weighed on Layton’s shoulders.
Lady Aribella allowed the doorway to hold her up. Princess Mary ran to her mother, burying her face in the woman’s shoulder. Layton didn’t even attempt to retie his rumpled cravat, but he brushed down his lapels, flattening their surface against his chest.
The Queen rose to a greater height and with supreme dignity said, “My deepest apologies, Prince Layton. As you can see, the King is unwell. We have suffered a great loss.”
He shook his head. “Say no more. It is forgotten.”
As Princess Mary cried on her mother’s shoulder, the Queen said, “Come, child.” She waved her hand. “If you’ll excuse us... Lady Aribella, would you help Prince Layton with whatever he may require?”
She started and then nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
As soon as they were alone, Lady Aribella ran to him. “Are you well?” She reached her hands up to his face, searching his eyes.
The care she showed Layton almost made the entire episode worth it.
Almost.
“I will be well, I’m certain.” He shook his head. “Though, I don’t know if anyone would believe what just happened. The King... will he be restrained forever now?” He waved a hand over his cravat. “Look at this.”
“Here, let me help.” Lady Aribella’s smile turned warm as she lifted her soft fingers up to his neck. Their soothing coolness against his skin calmed him.
“I’m rather shocked by it all, I think,” he said.
“I imagine so.” She pulled the knots out of his cravat, laying the fabric flat against his lapels, and then began working to retie it. Her mouth puckered in concentration. He watched her lips in fascination, enjoying the soft ministrations of her fingers. Then, as she tipped her head a certain way, focused on some aspect of his cravat, her tongue peeked out over her lips. He swallowed twice and cleared his throat, attempting to shift his concentration to something else.
