Page 27 of A Torn Allegiance
“What! That sweet family with the babies?”
“They’re not babies anymore, but yes. They have family on the coast. They’re going to try their hands at fishing, as so many have done already.”
“Would the tenants be better off doing something else?”
“If you ask them, they won’t think so.” He shrugged, then turned his head to her. “But Lord Everly knows the Argyll estate isn’t interested in sheep, no matter what is discussed. We must simply do our best to produce a good harvest.”
“Prince Hayes is interested in our farming techniques. Talk to him about them next time you steal him away.”
“Sister, what is your fascination with this prince? Wanting to call yourself Queen some day? Or is it something else?”
“Not at all. In fact, that’s the one thing that dulls my interest.”
“I think you should consider Prince Hayes.”
“We aren’t talking about considering or not considering him.” She rested a hand on her brother’s arm, her smile growing at her bold thoughts. “But I might agree with you.” She hugged a pillow to her chest. “I don’t quite know what to make of him. Hewastalking to Lamoreaux, you know.”
“I suspect you will have all kinds of enjoyment growingcloserto him, as Father suggests.”
When she whacked him with her pillow just in fun, he smiled. “Just as I thought.”
Chapter Ten
Another week had passed. Hayesand Lady Elsie and Duncan or her mother, depending on the day, had gone to the museum and had early-morning walks in the park almost daily. Their conversations were varied and important and still the most exhilarating he’d had and by far the most enjoyable part of his time in England. He frowned. Except when she began peppering him about his purpose in England, about the Swedish treaty, or about the inconsequential Lamoreaux. In those moments, he felt greatly frustrated and tired of their conversations. She didn’t seem overly interested in his answers, either. Why belabor points that mattered so little to either of them?
Today he need not think on it, however, as he, his brothers, and Bartholomew were invited back to St. James’s. He’d heard the King was indisposed, and Hayes was not surprised. He’d been apprised of the details of his condition when Aribella had come to join them in Oldenburg. One thing he had not heard was whether or not the princesses would be in attendance. Even though he’d been in formal correspondence with one, Princess Mary, she had alluded to another romantic interest elsewhere. Princess Elizabeth seemed a lovely person from all accounts he’d heard of her, and their brief meeting on his last trip to England had shown him as much. But would any woman hold the same interest for him as Lady Elsie?
He didn’t know, and what good would it do him to prefer her above all others when she might never want him or his crown? When her heart really longed for Scotland?
His country deserved someone who would put their heart into its governance. And so did he.
The carriage went over a bump, jostling Hayes from his thoughts.
Bartholomew adjusted his jacket. “You are deep in thought. Your brow grows more furrowed the closer we arrive.”
“Hayes likes to furrow his brow. He feels more kingly with that expression.” Marc leaned back and crossed an ankle over his knee.
“Does it furrow?” Hayes relaxed his forehead. “I suppose I never know what to expect when visiting St. James’s.” He ran a thumb along the space between his eyes.
Bartholomew snorted. “Last time I was here, Princess Amelia had just passed, the king was falling into his current state of insanity, and I was hoping to win the hand of Princess Aribella.” He laughed. “Perhaps this visit will be less eventful.”
“Let us hope,” Hayes said.
“I personally hope everything falls down around us in the largest scandal.” Kristoff grinned. “Think of the stories we could tell. Either way, Prince George is never boring.”
“Will the Duke of Shelby and his family be joining us?” Bartholomew lifted the window covering, showing the others that they were arriving at the gate.
“I am unsure. I extended the invitation.” Hayes hoped the duke would bring his family.
Their carriage stopped. Two full lines of servants in the striking red livery for the Crown lined the entrance. Bartholomew stepped out first, then Marc and Kristoff, and when Hayes followed, trumpets sounded and the military joined a procession behind the livery.
“Love those reminders that Hayes is the most important.” Kristoff smiled and waved toward the entryway.
Prince George exited the front door, and Hayes returned his nod of welcome. The prince was dressed in full royal regalia, a sword hanging at his side. His many folds of fabric draped across his person, covering him. Sunlight glinted off his jewels and gold and embellishments, and somewhere beneath it all, breeches covered his legs.
“I feel underdressed,” Hayes muttered.
“He has that effect.” Bartholomew straightened his stance.
