Page 34 of A Torn Allegiance
Until the new treaty and Sweden’s forced declaration of war, increased commerce had kept England growing and prosperous. But things were changing. Potential danger was afoot, and Hayes wondered again if he ought to return to Oldenburg sooner than he had planned.
One further hopeful flicker in the conversation happened as Hayes was standing to leave. The admiral clapped him on the back. “Your Highness, England needs you to remain an ally. Now, more than ever, we need your safe ports and the assistance of your excellent navy. Your at-risk situation is of great concern to us. I cannot speak for the war committee without consulting them, but I can safely say that you have a very interested nation hoping for your success and, if all goes well, ensuring it.”
Another portion of Hayes’s angst lessened. He gripped the man’s hand. “And for that I thank you.” His bow in farewell was full of gratitude and respect. Was the situation resolved? By no means. Was there a chance France could invade before England decided to send troops? Could England decide not to aid in their land affairs at all? Certainly. But just the fact that the admiral had expressed support made Hayes more grateful than ever that Oldenburg had forged this relationship with England.
When he arrived back at Bartholomew’s town house, the butler sent him to the duke’s study.
“You’re back.” Bartholomew poured and handed him a drink when he entered the room. “We’ve just received another invitation.”
“Oh?” Hayes sat back in the chair across from the man’s desk.
“Yes, don’t get too comfortable. Queen Charlotte has invited us both to her garden.”
Hayes straightened again. “When?”
“Tomorrow. And do you see this stack here?” He indicated a rather large and tumbling mess of letters. “These are yet-to-be-opened invitations.”
Hayes eyed that stack, wondering one thing.
“Two are from the Duke of Shelby’s household.”
“Excellent.” Hayes didn’t even try to hide his happiness.
“What are your intentions there?” Bartholomew swirled the liquid in his glass.
“Intentions? That word hovers about, weighing on everything. No matter what my intentions are, I am unsure she would have me, honestly. She has such a fiery determination to assist in Scotland.”
“But you would seek her hand?”
Hayes started to nod, hesitated, and then finished the motion. “I do believe I would, given we spend more time together. I must consider my country as well as my own impressions.” He frowned. “But it’s more than that, obviously. The woman has the best conversation. She could talk around a barrister. I’m convinced of it.” He laughed. “When I’m not with her, I wish to be. She has this smile that doesn’t quite light up her face in a beaming fashion—more like the light covertly reaches you. It starts small and soon overtakes you here.” He tapped his chest, deep in thought until he focused back on Bartholomew and saw the man was highly amused. “Desist, man. I’m not as besotted as I sound.”
“Oh no?” Bartholomew swallowed the rest of his drink. “It’s best you determine just how besotted you are, because a summons to the Queen’s gardens undoubtedly includes an afternoon with her daughters.”
Hayes raised his cup and drank its contents as well. “Perhaps I will retire early, in that case.”
“I’ll call for the carriage in the morning.”
Hayes made his way upstairs to change, with one thought. He must not become embroiled in a similar situation Layton had found himself in last year, having to choose between one woman who captured his interest and another who would ensure the safety of his country. He knew Layton’s dilemma had been the toughest decision of his life.
Chapter Thirteen
Elsie stomped home in alternatinghigh fury and hurt. She flung open the door, tossed her things aside, and made her way into her father’s study.
She didn’t even knock, which could have gone very poorly for her, but thankfully, inside were just her father and brother. Though they stood and seemed more shocked at her abrupt entrance than she thought was merited, at least she hadn’t been so brazen in front of another member of the peerage.
“Father. He is a traitor of the highest kind.”
His eyes sharpened. “Come in. Shut the door.”
She closed it as quietly as her tumultuous mind would allow and returned to stand in front of the desk.
Her brother studied her closely.
“I... I followed Hayes outside of White’s.”
“You what?” Her father reacted as she knew he would. His standing form showed every bit of frustration she knew he felt that she would do such a thing.
“Lady Sophie was with me—”
