Page 66 of A Foreign Crown
“Tell me of your situation. We’ve talked only of mine.”
So he detailed to her the prince regent’s arrival. He was gratified to hear her quiet responses mirror his thoughts on the matter. He told her of the regent’s promise and waited for her reply.
“I think he was in earnest. I think you’ll receive what you need from England, that one good thing will come of all the tragedy.”
“Hearing you say the words almost makes me believe they will happen.” Great comfort filled him at the thought—as well as sadness.
“I hope for the very best for you.”
Her words felt like a goodbye, and they tore his heart in two. “And I you. I will always think of you as I feel the ocean air on my face. In my highest tower, I will look out across the expanse of water and wonder if the same air is bringing me a whisper of you.”
“That’s beautiful.”
“It is only the truth.”
They moved along in silence, Layton pondering the impossibility of their situation. No solution came to mind. He determined to enjoy whatever moments they might still have remaining. “So will you be off to Windsor soon?”
“Yes, for the funeral. The Queen is preparing to move her entire household more permanently there, at least for the time being. She might send me early, or that task might fall to Lady Mallory.”
“I will try to send word if anything happens.” He didn’t say it, but he hoped she understood: he would send word to bid her farewell if necessary, if he didn’t see her again.
“Thank you.” She turned away, her body tensing. Then her head bowed, and she wiped an eye.
“Oh no, I’m sorry.” He reached for her and gently turned her and pulled her into his arms. “Please, no. No. Aribella.” His arms cradled her close while she cried into his chest. At a loss, he knew not what to say or how to alleviate her suffering.
Chapter Twenty-One
The feel of Layton’s mouthon Aribella’s forehead would have to sustain her through the next few days and through the funeral. As she awoke one morning to a full list of tasks to accomplish and a house full of emotional people, she knew she would not be leaving the Queen or her daughters for quite some time.
At one point, in a hurry to determine that all the family had met with the modiste or tailor for their rushed but new mourning clothes, the Queen pulled her aside from the modiste. “Does Prince Layton think ill of my daughters? He has not been to see us since the day of my dear Amelia’s passing.”
Aribella hid the shaking of her hands. The Queen’s suddenness, the tenderness of Layton’s name spoken aloud, and Aribella’s missing him gave rise to such emotion that she hoped no one would notice. “N-no. I don’t think so.”
“And which does he prefer?” Her Majesty’s eyes beaded in a desperation Aribella knew better than to cross.
“I’m not sure.” The words left her lips in a form of treason to her heart. And they were riddled with falsehood, for Aribella knew he preferred neither in the way the Queen meant, butifhe were to choose between the two, he might prefer Mary. Aribella wasn’t certain, if she were honest. But she wasn’t being honest at all, was she? “In truth, he likely has some trepidation since his treatment by the King...”
“Yes, I have no doubt.” She studied Aribella with kind eyes. “And you prefer him, do you not?”
Aribella sucked in her breath and counted, praying she would be able to find her voice and a calm expression. “I prefer him to anyone I’ve met at court, yes.”
The Queen nodded, then patted Aribella’s shoulder. “You are as good and loyal as your mother. I’ll see to it that your estate receives an extra bounty of payment for your time spent here.”
Aribella’s heart, which she had been trying to quiet, beat in such an erratic thumping she was certain to faint straightaway. She dropped in her deepest curtsy. “We would be most honored and pleased.”
“You have done what no other lady-in-waiting has done for me. You’ve put your needs below my own, aided me in all I have asked, and in every way, you have been a true asset to us all.”
“Thank you. Your Majesty, it has been my honor to serve you.”
“We aren’t finished yet, with the funeral and other important matters, but I will remember your kindness and will look forward to your return next year. I hope it will be a happier time.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” She curtsied again and then resumed her assistance with the modiste.
Somehow, she survived the following hours and then days. She survived the relocation to Windsor, the funeral, the sorrow for the loss of such a dear princess, the nation mourning her, the family mourning her. She even survived the briefest glance shared with Prince Layton before she and the royal family had left.Survived, because one glance could never sustain her; one glance could only tease with the greatest torture her heart that had begun yearning for him with each beat.
And then hopeful news moved through the desolate and hopeless castle. Prince George had requested his family’s presence at St. James’s for a grand celebration as a request for support for his new regency. He particularly mentioned that the Queen should bring all the children—the whole family—and her entire entourage, ladies-in-waiting and all. Prince George wished to stand with his mother to receive his guests. The Queen had asked Aribella to respond in the affirmative, and a small smile had graced her lips. Perhaps the event would be good for them all.
As she made her way downstairs to ask that the response be delivered to Prince George, a footman approached. “Lady Aribella.”
