Page 5 of A Torn Allegiance
“I don’t know. I’ve heard tales. And it’s their mothers we are to be most concerned with.”
Prince Marc and Prince Kristoff filled the stairwell as they too descended. Their broad shoulders and careful attention to their clothing and hair presented an eye-catching pair.
“And where are you two headed?” Hayes asked.
“Since we are not as yet invited to dinner with the Duke of Grant, we thought to take up another invitation, to an assembly hall. Almack’s, I believe it is called,” Kristoff said.
“Almack’s? Do you have a voucher?” Bartholomew asked.
“I believe we have one. What did she say last time, Marc?”
He cleared his throat. “‘Anytime you princes want to come back, you may. You have eternal vouchers to Almack’s.’”
Kristoff laughed. “So we thought we’d go tonight, letle bon tonknow we are returned.”
Hayes smiled. “Enjoy yourselves, Brothers.”
“You as well.” Marc and Kristoff walked out and entered a hired hack that had pulled up in the street.
“They seem to have acclimated rather quickly to London,” Bartholomew said with amusement.
“I’m afraid they’ve been waiting for this moment for many months.”
Bartholomew gave an exaggerated mournful expression. “I’m beginning to think I should expect very little attention this Season.”
Hayes laughed. “You’re quite a catch for any woman. If they can’t see that, then you need to wait for the one who can. Be grateful if they don’t flock to you for your title alone.”
“They may. And I am unprepared for such a flocking. Thank heavens I’ve seen no evidence that one will occur.”
Hayes considered him. “Tonight we go to a dinner...”
“Yes, but it will be easier than a ball or other event. And it is kind of the Duke of Shelby to travel with us. He lives up the street.” Bartholomew’s butler opened the door. “Shall we?”
“Why has he offered to accompany us? Do you know His Grace?”
Bartholomew shook his head. “I know neither of them, although I will participate in the House of Lords with them. I presume we will know each other at least passably well, eventually.”
“Then, perhaps we have been invited with that purpose in mind.”
“They particularly mentioned you. I would assume others in London would want to welcome you as well. When are you invited to St. James’s?”
“Tuesday next.”
“Very good.”
“Yes, I have several official visits to pay the royal family,” Hayes said.
They walked along on the street in front of the homes. Each of the houses sat as tall and stately as the last. The park across the street and the quiet of life here reminded Hayes of the homes near his family’s palace. But not everyone in his country was so surrounded with abundance, and he knew the same to be true in England.
“Two more of our tenant families have returned.” Bartholomew’s smile spoke of his great relief at such news.
“That is excellent, friend. I can only imagine more will do so as circumstances continue to improve.”
“That is my firm and abiding hope.” Bartholomew straightened and brushed down his sleeves.
They approached the front door of the Duke of Shelby’s home, and before they could lift the knocker, the door opened.
“How do they always know when to open the door?” Bartholomew’s mumbled question made Hayes laugh, and the butler studied them for a moment and then raised his eyebrows.
