Page 70 of A Foreign Crown
Since our beginning this letter, news of an alarming nature has reached our ears of which we must make you immediately aware. France has discovered our targeting of their privateering activity and views such action as an act of war. We are afraid we will soon be inundated with French ships and that we will be taken over by Napoleon himself. If you’ve made progress at all, now is the time to come to our aid with whatever you’ve managed to secure.
Layton folded the letter carefully, attempting unsuccessfully to steady his hands. He’d been foolish and selfish to delay even these past few days, and now his country might suffer because of it. With any luck, he’d arrive while there was still time to challenge France and protect Oldenburg. As the guilt rose in his chest, tightening his breathing, he worked at a semblance of calm.
He returned to Her Majesty and bowed. “I must beg your forgiveness and return at once to my chambers to prepare to attend to an emergency in my country.” He bowed to Princess Mary and then turned on his heels.
The admiral was in conversation not five steps away. He bowed to Layton. “Did I see an express arrive in your hands?”
“You did indeed. And we will be making use of your offer to leave on the first tide tomorrow.”
“Very good. My ships and crew will be ready and most pleased.”
“I know the prince offered three, but if there is any way to increase that number, you would have my utmost gratitude.”
“Understood. We will do our best.”
“Thank you, sir.” Layton bowed and then turned from him, ready to hurry from the room, but in doing so, he almost barreled Aribella over.
“Oh, I’m sorry. My lady, forgive my careless haste.” He reached to steady her, enjoying the feel of her soft arms.
“What has happened?” The open concern in her face, the clutching of her hands on his arms, told him all he needed to know about her regard. And he answered whatever small preference for him she might feel with one as powerful as the waves of the sea that beat upon the rocks below his home in a storm. He could no sooner stop his caring than halt the rising tide.
Music for the waltz began. “Dance with me,” he said, knowing this could be his last chance to hold her.
She nodded, and he pulled her closer to him. For a few measures, he enjoyed the feel of her in his arms, without speaking. Then her small voice, wavering, tightened his chest when she said, “Tell me.”
“I sail at first tide. The French have discovered our efforts to protect our shores and have declared war on us.”
Her face drained of color. “Will you be safe?”
“I plan to be. I will leave with the generous assistance of the English navy.”
“And if you come upon the French on your travels?” She trembled in his arms.
He stepped closer, wishing to pull her up against his chest, to kiss away her concern. “Then, we will be victorious.”
Her eyes searched his for many moments before she nodded. “I can only send you off believing that to be true, for I could not bear...” Her lips trembled, and she looked away. “I couldn’t bear to hear otherwise.” The deep sorrow in her eyes blurred with tears was his undoing.
“Come.” He put a hand at her back, and they hurried from the room. He stepped into the first room, a study of sorts, and he pulled her close, into his arms. His lips found hers without his thinking about it. Their kiss was sweeter than anything in his life, and full of sorrow.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I am not free to behave in this manner.”
She looked away. “I suppose I’m not either.”
“But if we were... free to do so, would you wish it to be so?” He pressed the back of her hand to his lips, waiting until her gaze again met his.
When she at last looked into his eyes, he knew what her answer would be. The affection that shone back at him nearly made him give up on returning to his land at all. But her words, spoken softly, wrapped themselves in a curl of pleasure around his heart.
“Yes. I would be yours in an instant.” Then her cheeks colored, and she placed a hand at her mouth. “I am too bold. Forgive me.”
“No, it is I who asked the question. You must know I have delayed my departure with the hope to see you, to simply look into your face again. I wish you the best, every happiness, on your estate. I await the happy news that I may call you Duchess...” His voice trailed off, for he could find no energy to back his words with an equally happy expression. “We are both acting in someone’s best interests, I imagine.”
“I suppose we are.” The corner of her mouth lifted, and the wryness of her smile brought some cheer.
He breathed deeply, studying her face, attempting to memorize her features. “And now I must be off. But it would not do for us to be found thus. I will wait while you return to the ballroom to give some distance between our leaving this room.”
She nodded, but she didn’t move.
He pulled her close again, running his hands up and down her back. Then she shuddered a half sob, turned from him, and ran from the room.
