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“How could you possibly know that?”
Charles shrugged. “You always pick this colour when you need to be battle ready.”
“Battle ready? I’ve never considered it thusly, but I suppose you’re right again.”
“You do realize that the servants know everything.”
James grinned as he met the other man’s eyes in the mirror. “I do. And I’m reminded of it regularly.”
“Well then, I’m sure you also realize that yours are remarkably loyal.”
It had been of comfort to James as he nodded. He had actually felt emotion tickle the back of his throat. Of course, he had ignored it, merely urging Charles to hurry through the rest of his preparations as he needed to be on his way.
But remembering it now, as he stood on the threshold of King George’s assembly room, it felt as though he were about to step into a pit of vipers. Knowing he had a houseful of dependent supporters at home was a comfort. Yes, the servants were his responsibility, but being reminded that he had their loyalty was reassuring. And strengthening, he realized, as he twitched a cuff into place before stepping confidently into the room.
Sure enough, Prescott was already there. James stood to the side and watched as the other man, as slippery as an eel, feigned fascination with whatever His Majesty was saying, before launching into speech himself. Suddenly, though, James was pleasantly surprised to see the king frown and shake his head. Prescott wasn’t looking so assured any longer. James felt himself relaxing. He should have had more confidence in his sovereign. The man’s mind was sharp since he had regained his health.
