Page 68 of A Foreign Crown
“Oh, I could never presume—”
“You haven’t. I insist. Any friend of Lady Aribella’s is welcome in our home.”
He nodded. “Then, I thank you, for I would love to claim such an intimacy with Lady Aribella.”
The Queen couldn’t look more pleased, and Aribella finished their tête-à-tête with platitudes and a smile pasted on her face by sheer force of will.
When they made ready to leave the room, Lord Bartholomew turned to her. “Might we take a turn in one of the lovely gardens here?”
“Certainly, you must.” The Queen smiled.
Aribella placed a hand on his arm, and with a deep curtsy to the Queen, she led him out of the room.
“I had no idea Queen Charlotte was so lovely.”
“She is quite remarkable,” Aribella said. “I’m happy with my time here.”
“Are you? I’m pleased to hear it. And equally pleased you will be returning soon.”
“I guess it could be considered soon. I just have so much to accomplish between now and then.” Really, she didn’t have that much more to do. Things were settled. The Queen was established at Windsor, the King was set up in his own quarters there, and the daughters were well. But what gave her pause was simply the fact that she was not ready to go.
“I know I speak for your father as well as for myself; the time can’t come soon enough.”
“How is Father, really?”
“He is well, as I said. His color is back, and he is walking the grounds with energy.” Lord Bartholomew’s face and hope were so pleasing and sincere that Aribella warmed toward him again.
“I’m happy to hear it. The sound of his cough was too difficult to bear at times.”
“He seems to have overcome that ailment.” Lord Bartholomew smiled. “And you look well here. I think court life has been good for you.”
She was sure he’d meant to compliment her, but she could only be reminded of the awfulness of actual life at court in contrast to the wonderful light Prince Layton provided.
Her face heated at the thought of him, and Lord Bartholomew stepped closer. “I’ve enjoyed the news in letters your father shared, but I admit to enjoying this time in your presence much more.”
“How long will you be staying?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought on it—just that I wanted to come, and then I did.” His grin seemed almost giddy. “I admit I’ve never done anything quite so sudden before.”
“Well, I’m happy you are enjoying yourself.” She couldn’t bring herself to say she was happy he’d come. But sheshouldbe happy. Why could she not be happy about his offer to give her everything she wanted?
“Very much so.” He placed a hand over the top of hers, imprisoning her fingers, or at least, that was how she felt.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Layton stood at the topof the stairs at St. James’s. He would only attend Prince George’s grand celebration for duty’s sake and because he knew Aribella had been invited. The prince had promised three ships to escort Layton home and to help protect his borders. Layton could technically go at any time, pin down the details with Prince George, and set a departure date, but he delayed. He told himself he waited for the prince regent to settle in to his new role. He told himself that he must end his time in England with feelings of goodwill and closure, that he must visit all who had aided him. He told himself he was moving forward with an appropriate pace, but he was stalling. He knew it, and he didn’t care.
He would see Aribella that night.
He entered the welcome hall. The master of ceremonies tapped the floor. “Prince Layton Christian Wilhelm of Oldenburg.”
Every pair of eyes in the room turned to him, but Layton did not see the one he sought. Smiling anyway, he nodded to the room and made his way toward Admiral Hollings.
Without even a greeting, the man called to him as he approached. “My men are looking forward to setting sail.”
Layton grasped the man’s hand. He’d come to respect him. “I too am anxious to be on my way. How does a fortnight sound?”
The man’s eyebrows rose. “We could set sail tomorrow. Are you certain a fortnight is necessary?”
