The King's Bought Bride (Royal House of Leone Book 1)

by Jennifer Lewis

  “I preferred to keep my private life private. Now that I will be king, my decisions are of necessity a matter of public interest, but did the people of Altaleone really need to know my every movement before now?”

  “Your brother is right, my dear. There’s no reason to risk scandal and upset by dating in public.”

  Beatriz stiffened. “I never do.”

  “I know, my love, I wasn’t accusing you of anything.” Her mom frowned. “You’re exemplary in every way, and I don’t know what any of us would do without you.”

  Emma looked from Beatriz to Darias. Obviously, there was some longstanding tension here. She had a feeling she might have to watch her back around Beatriz. It was a shame they couldn’t just tell her the whole thing was fake. She’d probably be relieved.

  But Emma was sworn to secrecy.

  “I want the wedding to take place as soon as humanly possible.”

  “But people must make travel plans,” protested Beatriz. “You can’t just expect heads of state to clear their calendars at a moment’s notice and rush to Altaleone.”

  “Then we will miss them.” Darias smiled at Emma and reached his hand out affectionately to her across the gleaming oak table. She had to think fast for a moment—act like you’re really in love!—so she reached out and he grasped her fingers.

  Heat rushed through her, unfortunately, at the touch of his skin to hers. She didn’t need to act the sudden rush of color and emotion. Hopefully, Darias would just think she was an amazing actress. She really didn’t want him to know about these strange new sensations going on inside her.

  “Emma and I want to be married next week. We are quite happy to have only the villagers of Casteleone in attendance.”

  “But what about the family?” Beatriz looked shocked. “Our brothers and sisters have important jobs, school exams. Surely you don’t—”

  “Somehow I think they’ll all manage to make it.” Darias squeezed Emma’s hand. “And if they don’t?” He shrugged. “Their loss.”

  “I don’t know.” Beatriz frowned and sipped her wine. “I think it seems too fast. Weirdly fast.”

  “I think it’s wonderful,” said his mom, her complexion glowing again. “The people of Altaleone will be so happy to have something to celebrate in the wake of tragedy.”

  “We’ll set the wedding for next Saturday,” said Darias, still holding Emma’s hand, which was starting to sweat. “It will be a national holiday, which we’ll announce tomorrow. Everyone in Altaleone is invited to attend, and we’ll have a big buffet feast in the village square.”

  His mom clapped her hands in delight. “I love it!”

  “Can they sew the dress in time?” Beatriz stared.

  “Emma will look gorgeous in any dress they have in the store. She can pick one out, and all they have to do is alter it.”

  “Absolutely,” insisted Emma when Darias’s mom and Beatriz turned their gazes to her. “I’m sure they’ll have something lovely. You must both come with me to help me choose.”

  “We’d love that, wouldn’t we, Beatriz?” Darias’s mom beamed.

  “Of course,” said Beatriz flatly.

  Darias extricated his hand from Emma’s, which was now trembling slightly. Darias was in a really big rush to get married. Maybe he thought she might get scared and run off if he waited too long.

  Maybe he was right.

  Emma’s first night alone in her grand palace bedroom was tense. The long blue brocade curtains cast weird shadows over the bed, which made her wonder if the building was haunted. It had to be hundreds of years old. Who knew how many people could have died there?

  And why had Darias’s father and grandmother been murdered? Who would want them dead, and would they be a danger to Darias or other members of the family? Every rustle of expensive fabric and creak in the ancient walls set her nerves on edge.

  And she half expected Darias to wander in, features illuminated by moonlight, and claim her.

  Maybe because that was what happened in the one ragged dream she managed in an almost sleepless night.

  She really shouldn’t have taken this job.

  A job. It was a job. She tried to remind herself. It didn’t feel like a simple job. More like an elaborate movie role with a script too complicated to remember and scenes too challenging for her meager acting skills.

  And then there was Darias. Far too handsome. Warm, charming, kind. She was beginning to hope he’d do something awful and off-putting so she could squelch her very unwelcome and inconvenient attraction to him. Pretending to be madly in love with him was one thing—actually being in love with him would be a total disaster under the circumstances. She’d have only herself to blame if she grew attached to him and got her heart crushed when he sent her packing after one year.

  So she tossed and turned until the cool fingers of morning light crept through her curtains like nosy neighbors.

  A knock on the door made her sit upright in bed. Who would disturb her before it was even fully light out? “Hello?”

  “It’s Beatriz. May I come in?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Emma jumped out of bed. “Hold on a moment.” She rapidly ran a comb through her hair and splashed water on her face, as if that would make her seem like less of a fraud in Beatriz’s eyes. She unlocked the door and opened it.

  Darias’s sister was elegantly dressed in a navy blue ensemble, her face made up and her hair in a neat bun. “Oh, you’re not up yet.” She glanced at Emma’s pajamas.

  “What time is it?”

  “Ten to ten.”

  “Oh, goodness. The wedding dress appointment. I had no idea it was so late. I guess it’s only two A.M. in New York right now.”

  “Don’t worry. I already called them, and they’re going to bring a big selection of dresses to the palace at noon.” Beatriz came in and closed the door behind her. “It’s easier for Mama not to be out and about so much right now. People are whispering behind their hands.”

  Emma nodded, feeling rather cornered. “I’m so sorry to hear about what happened. Very shocking.”

  “Almost as shocking as the news that my twin brother is about to marry someone he’s never mentioned to any of us before.”

  Perhaps it was a good time to be honest. Just a little bit honest. “The need for him to be married in order to take the throne precipitated things. I’m not sure he’d even thought about marrying me until that happened.”

  Beatriz scrutinized her with deep brown eyes not unlike her brother’s. “I’d imagine so. It’s a lot of pressure. On you, too.” She cocked her head, as if looking for a reaction.

  “It was a surprise when he proposed. I admit that he had to talk me into it.” Boy, was that ever true.

  One of Beatriz eyebrows lifted. “You weren’t sure if you wanted to marry him?”

  Emma inhaled, gathering her thoughts. This was dangerous territory. “It’s a lot of responsibility, to be the wife of a king. I’m just an elementary school teacher. I’m from a very ordinary background. It’s all rather intimidating to me.”

  Beatriz nodded, obviously taking this in. “I understand. There’s a lot to learn—palace etiquette, how to interact with the public. This life allows some luxuries, but it’s a full-time job representing the royal family. I suppose you were right to be wary.” Her mouth tilted into a small smile. “I’ll help you in any way I can. Feel free to ask me questions about things that confuse you.”

  Did she really now have an ally, rather than a suspicious antagonist? It seemed too much to hope for.

  “Darias has had a lot of women pursue him over the years. In general they’re far more interested in the prospect of a luxurious lifestyle and access to the Altaleone jewels than in my brother’s heart and soul. As his sister, it’s made me wary.”

  “I can imagine. I’m sure you deal with the same kind of thing yourself.”

  Beatriz frowned, looking almost confused. “Hardly. I’m never going to be queen.”

  Emma found it hard to
believe she didn’t still have suitors anxious to enjoy a well-feathered royal life. Maybe men were intimidated by Beatriz and the prospect of life among royals.

  She wanted to assure Beatriz that she wasn’t marrying Darias for his money or connections, but that would have been an outright lie. Better to keep quiet. “I want to do my best to help Darias fulfill his duties to his family and the country.” Now, that was true. No need for Beatriz to know she was being paid for it.

  To her surprise Beatriz clasped her hands. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.” Beatriz hands were cold. Cold hands, warm heart? She couldn’t tell. “The most important thing right now is to help Mama through this nightmare.” Her big brown eyes moistened. “It’s really too much for her to bear. It’s not fair that she had to find them as well as deal with being left alone after a thirty-year marriage. I’m doing everything I can think of to keep things calm and smooth for her. Honestly, Darias turning up with you is the only thing that’s made her smile since she found the bodies. It seems like a year ago but it was barely ten days.”

  Emma shivered. “Her grief is so raw. I lost my mom last year, and some mornings I still wake up and can’t believe it.”

  Beatriz squeezed her hands. “I’m so sorry.” Her sympathy seemed totally genuine and Emma felt a flood of emotion and guilt at continuing to deceive her. “My father and I didn’t always see eye to eye, and I wish I could go back in time and change some of the things I said.” Her face was pale. “I can’t tell Mama that, of course.”

  Emma nodded, feeling compassion. She realized that Darias’s sister was desperate to talk to someone about her pain. Even someone she barely knew and didn’t entirely trust.

  If she only knew.

  “Well, as I said, the most important thing is to keep things ticking along smoothly.” She leaned in, suddenly very close. “Mama had a nervous breakdown many years ago. She lost a baby late in the pregnancy and took it very hard. I was only a child, but I remember being very scared. There have been moments lately when I wonder if it’s about to happen again.” She gripped Emma’s hand. “Don’t tell anyone I told you that.”

  “Of course not,” said Emma quickly. “And I’ll do everything I can to keep her calm and steady.”

  Beatriz stood up suddenly. “You’d better get ready for the fitting. Pin your hair up. It’ll be easier to see the necklines.”

  Emma felt her long hair sprawling over her shoulders. “Good idea.”

  Beatriz shot her one more long, hard look, studying her, as if trying to decide whether she was someone she could trust, or not. “And don’t tell Darias I spoke to you.”

  When Emma came downstairs, feeling self-conscious with her hair pinned in a wedding-y style, Darias was talking to his mom and Beatriz.

  “Good morning, my love.” His deep voice—and those words—awoke something inside her.

  “Morning.” Her voice cracked. She froze as Darias walked toward her. Relax. Act natural. He’s supposed to be your longtime boyfriend.

  He slid his arms around her waist and lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was quick, nothing more than a soft peck, really, but it left her gasping for breath, with heat rising up her neck to her cheeks.

  “I’m going to meet with a long line of lawyers and accountants in Casteleone. Hopefully, they can fill me in on all the details my father and grandmother never had a chance to tell me.”

  She managed a shaky smile as they stepped apart. “Is there any kind of dress you like best?”

  “Any dress with you in it.”

  If she didn’t know better, she’d think that playful smile easing across his bold mouth was utterly genuine.

  She did know better, though. “I think that between the three of us we’ll find something you’ll like.”

  “But he must absolutely not see it until your wedding day,” called his mom, scolding and excited at the same time.

  “Of course not, Mama. I intend to uphold every outdated and silly tradition in Altaleone, whether I believe in it or not.”

  She looked warmly at her son and smiled. “I know you’re just teasing me.”

  “You may think I’m joking, Mama, but I truly do intend to do my best to uphold all my responsibilities as king and as the head of the family.”

  Emma snuck a look at Beatriz, who should have every right to the same responsibilities as Darias. Beatriz raised a brow. “And I will do my best to make sure your bride is radiant and relaxed on her wedding day.”

  The dresses were breathtaking. She tried on a range of styles, from simple fitted satin gowns to frothy concoctions with crystal beaded bodices. Darias’s mom cried at least four times. “I just love weddings,” she exclaimed. “Since none of my daughters have married yet, this is my first time to fuss over one.”

  Emma preferred the simple dresses without much ornamentation, but they agreed that something with a bit more oomph would look better in video footage and photos of the wedding. They settled on a full-skirted gown with a fitted bodice piped with tiny seed pearls, and a long veil hemmed with matching tiny pearls.

  The next few days where a whirlwind of consultations with party planners, hair dressers, personal shoppers, photographers and assorted other people, most of whom spoke very good English. Darias was gone nearly all day every day, presumably getting up to speed on the financial and political responsibilities of the monarchy.

  In some ways it was a relief not to be around him, given the unsettling effect he’d started to have on her, but she hated the responsibility of answering so many questions without him there. Luckily, people weren’t bold enough to ask very personal questions like how they’d met. When they asked other tricky questions, like what was Darias’s favorite gemstone or which pattern of plate would he prefer, she could honestly answer that she really wasn’t sure.

  Most nights she was so exhausted that she slept like the dead and didn’t even worry about palace ghosts or midnight visitors. She could sleep easy knowing that—so far—she’d done her part to uphold her bargain with Darias, and a call to New York had confirmed that her brother was still safely ensconced at The Fountains.

  As the wedding day approached, Darias’s younger siblings started to arrive from near and far, all of them seemingly pleased to meet her. They all seemed warm and charming, despite the slightly awkward moment.

  “You don’t speak Italian or German?” Darias’s younger sister Callista had long, chestnut curls and hypnotic jade-green eyes. They were sitting next to each other at dinner the night before the wedding, and everyone had nearly finished a very rich chocolate cake for dessert. “French?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Callista blinked in amazement. “Where did you go to school?”

  “Just the local schools. In New Jersey.”

  “The public schools? The free ones?” She looked shocked. “Were your parents socialists or something?”

  “Something like that.” Emma wanted to laugh. These people lived in such an alternate universe. “I still managed to graduate from college.”

  “Princeton? I went for a tour of it with my father after I got in.” Her big eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Damn it. I keep forgetting.”

  “I’m so sorry about what happened.”

  “I just can’t believe he’s gone. He planned to visit me in Paris next month.” Callista let out a deep sigh, then lifted her chin. “Princeton’s a wonderful school, though. I might have gone there if I didn’t get into MIT.”

  “I didn’t go to Princeton.” No need to make this charade any more elaborate than it already was. “I went to Rutgers.”

  “Oh.”

  “You’re not hassling my fiancée are you, Calli?” Darias leaned over.

  “Just wondering why she doesn’t speak any languages at all.” She winked at Emma. “Except presumably the language of love.”

  “Watch yourself, sis. You’re not too old for me to strap you to a chair with zip ties again.”

  “Can you believe that?” Callista rai
sed a brow at Emma. “You want to watch this one. He’s too creative for his own good sometimes.”

  Darias’s mother stood up. “Darlings, you know it warms my heart to have you all here, but I think we should get some sleep. We all have a long day tomorrow and need to look presentable for the cameras.”

  Emma swallowed. She’d forgotten about all the reporters that would be here. Tomorrow her picture would be splashed all over the press and the Internet and she’d go from total obscurity to a familiar face, at least in Europe.

  Luckily in America no one cared much about European monarchs—especially from obscure microstates—so she wasn’t likely to become notorious there. Unless something went horribly wrong.

  Which it wouldn’t.

  Not if she could help it.

  Emma was already awake the next morning when Beatriz knocked on her door. Darias’s twin sister had clearly assigned herself the task of making sure all aspects of the wedding went smoothly. It was a little oppressive to have someone breathing down her neck under the circumstances, but helpful to have someone assist her through the arduous process of turning into a royal bride.

  Her hair was straightened, then curled again into long, loose waves, then pinned into an elegant updo. She probably hadn’t spent that much time on her hair in the last year. A makeup artist spent forty-five minutes making her look like an airbrushed version of herself, and the dressmaker fussed over the gown, putting stitches into strange places to ensure an absolutely perfect fit.

  “You do look the part.” Beatriz’s cool comment, said with a totally straight face, almost made Emma wonder if she knew more than she let on. Or maybe all the Leones just spoke this way. Keeping up appearances was probably an important part of royal life. “No one would suspect that you don’t have a drop of royal blood.”

  Now Emma blinked. “Am I supposed to?”

  “It is traditional for royals to marry someone who is at least a member of the aristocracy somewhere. I suppose it’s a shame you aren’t a Kennedy.”

  “They’re all cursed. I’d rather just be me.”