Page 65 of A Foreign Crown
“I spoke with the King.”
“Oh?” Nothing she could have said would have surprised him more.
“He is not himself. Nothing he says can be considered to be a directive from the King. He is different in all regards—one moment pleasant but still not himself, one moment frantic or sad or angry.” She shivered.
“Were you harmed?” Layton was uncomfortable with the many possible implications of her words.
“No. I must not share particulars, but that much I will say. Whatever promises he made to you, you ought to consider them as never having been spoken.”
He nodded.
“The Queen is remarkable and strong. The family will soon move to Windsor, as soon as the funeral is over and other details are in place for the prince to begin his rule.”
“And are you well?”
“I hardly know.” She waved her hand and kicked her feet out in front of her, and he wished to talk of something pleasant, to rid her forehead of its troubled lines.
“Tell me more of your home.”
For a moment, her face cleared, and she seemed at rest. “I love our estate. In addition to the water and the moors, we have craggy rocks and rolling fields of green.” She toyed with his fingers, and he enjoyed the feel of her soft, small hands absentmindedly touching his own. “But now they don’t hold the same promise of productivity. The tenants have left. We have had many years of little rain and cold weather and less sun. The crops have failed, and we no longer have an income from them.”
His plan to ease her burden in her capacity as a lady-in-waiting seemed to have brought to the surface an even greater care. “What has been done to save the estate?”
“Remember the entailment I mentioned?”
“I do.” He was unlikely to forget about the man her father hoped she might marry.
“Until the entailment passes to my distant relative, and with so little means of income, we simply live day to day on what meager resources remain. We have a family garden.” She winced. “I’ve dismissed most of the staff.”
His heart ached for her. “And do you wish to save it? Is your heartfelt desire that it regain its former glory?”
“That is the question I have most often asked myself of late.” As her eyes met his, he could only guess at the myriad of emotions that swirled there. “Do I wish for the estate to be saved, for it to stay in my direct family line, to bring honor to my father and his father and his? Yes.” She pressed her lips together. “But the true question I ask myself almost every day is howmuchdo I wish such a thing?”
He considered her. “And you say this distant cousin is a good fellow?” He gritted his teeth after the words released from his mouth. No one would ever be good enough. But he had to know if the man was decent.
“Yes, I think so. He seems kind. My father likes him, and he is an excellent judge of character. Lord Bartholomew is showing a good sense of fairness in that he is willing to make an offer to me, to ask me before considering anyone else. Father wrote encouraging the match. I see very little logic in refusing. But logic isn’t everything, is it?”
“No. Logic isn’t everything.” Layton nodded. “However, that is a good sign that he is a decent enough chap.” He hated the words as they left his lips. “And you’d be loathe to... that is, this time away from your father... has it been difficult?”
“Oh, the very worst. I can hardly bear it. His health is not good; he was only just recovering when I left. It pains me that he has had to manage there on his own. The servants are good, but...” She turned away. “I’m sorry to carry on so. With so much of greater import going on around us, my concerns must sound frivolous.”
“Not at all. I’m happy you shared them with me, for now I can more fully understand your position and all you carry on those lovely shoulders.”
She smiled, her eyebrows lifted in surprise.
“You cannot blame me for noticing. I see all of your loveliness, from the tip of your sweet nose to the shiny curls in your hair to your arms and these fascinating fingers to your slippered toes that peek out from beneath your skirts.”
She lifted a hand to the side of his face. “And I you.” He recognized the caring in her expression as well as the sorrow in her eyes. “Nothing between us is simple, is it?” she said.
“No. And now that I hear the details of your situation, I realize just how complicated they might be.”
She turned away. No words followed to contradict his assumption that she was feeling very much obligated to accept the hand of a man who would make her the duchess of her estate. And considering everything he’d just learned, he suspected her choice was the correct one for her situation. But the entirely wrong choice for him. How could one choice be both correct and in error at the same time? The idea of returning home without Lady Aribella was so abhorrently wrong to his way of thinking that he dreaded his passage across the sea. But what could he do? Strip a woman from her estate? From her rightful place as duchess? Take from her everything she’d always known and loved? He daren’t even ask such a thing of a woman he cared for. What kind of selfish cad behaved in such a manner?
He stood. “Shall we walk?”
“Oh, yes, please. I am not ready to return.”
“I don’t know if I ever will be.”
