by Day Leclaire
He laughed, in part at the exasperation in his darling bride-to-be’s voice and in part at the shocked expressions of the dressmaker and her assistants. “Why, I came to visit you, of course.”
“I was with you not thirty minutes ago. You couldn’t wait another thirty until I’m through here?”
“No, I can’t.” He settled cautiously onto a dainty davenport. When it proved sturdier than it appeared, he flung one leg over the armrest and settled back against the cushions. “The latest newspapers just arrived and I wanted to share them with you.”
“I try and avoid newspapers whenever possible. I usually find them depressing, if not downright unpleasant.”
He winced at the hint of vulnerability threaded through her comment. “These are neither depressing nor unpleasant. In fact, in the few days since our press conferences, they’ve all been rave reviews. For instance…” He selected a newspaper at random and turned to the appropriate page. “May I be the first to inform you, you are officially the cat’s meow.”
The assistants dropped the fabric they held, revealing a hand-painted dressing screen. Lander could see Juliana’s silhouette on the far side as she was assisted in removing a billowing gown that one of the dressmakers whisked away for further alteration. Lord, she was gorgeous. All long, sweeping lines and soft, feminine curves. She poked her head around the side of the screen. In her haste to hide from him, her carefully knotted hair had become delightfully unknotted. For some reason, he found those bountiful curls fascinating.
“The cat’s meow?” Her eyebrow winged upward. “Should I assume you’re the cat?”
“You may so assume.”
“Really?” She pretended to be disappointed. “I thought you were a lion.”
“Cat. Lion.” He shrugged. “If you don’t like that nickname, how does Angel Ana grab you? It’s the most popular of the dozen or so choices, although Angel seems a little much to me. And not terribly accurate, based on the words I just heard come out of that angelic mouth of yours.”
Her eyes narrowed and he could see the warning flash of gold from clear across the room. “Would you please tell me what you’re talking about?”
He held up a stack of newspapers. “I told you. I’m talking about these news articles.”
She gripped the edge of the screen in alarm. “All those? They’re all articles about me?” she asked in disbelief.
“Well, and me, too.” His brows drew together. “At least, I think I’m in here somewhere. Probably listed in one of the footnotes as Angel Ana’s bridegroom.”
She started to come around the screen, only to be shoved back in place by one of Peri’s assistants, who then bustled around the room, pretending not to listen as she straightened bolts of satin and tulle. “Are you trying to tell me that the press is saying nice things about me?” Disbelief underscored the question. “The press never has anything nice to say. You must have read it wrong.”
“Did not.” He riffled through the papers. “Here’s one that’s fairly illustrative. And I quote, ‘Verdonia’s princess-to-be, Angel Ana Arnaud, has the entire country at her feet. Standing before a crowd of reporters and local citizens, vibrant red hair tousled by the wind—’”
“Darn clip.”
“‘Angel Ana confirmed her engagement to Lucky Lander is back on—’Oh, there I’m mentioned. See? I’m also known as—damn, I hope Merrick and Miri don’t read this, I’ll never hear the end of it—Lander the Love-struck, and Lovelorn Lander.”
“They actually had the nerve to call you that?” Juliana asked faintly. “And the reporters are still breathing?”
“Breathing, just not functional. And you’re interrupting. Let me read you the best part of the article. Where was I? Oh, yes. And I quote once again. ‘All of Verdonia rallied in their efforts to encourage Ms. Arnaud to accept Prince Lander’s offer of marriage. Now that she’s once again wearing his ring, the entire country is celebrating the good news.’ There, you see? Rave reviews.”
“I don’t understand.” She sounded sincerely puzzled. “Usually all they want to print about me is scandal.”
He tossed the papers aside and stood. “People are coming forward from all over Verdonia, sweetheart. All in support of you and full of reports of your many good deeds and kindnesses.”
“You’ve helped so many of our children,” one of the assistants offered.
“They even support you in Avernos,” the dressmaker concurred. “As well they should.”
Lander chuckled. “I’ll bet that has von Folke’s tail in a twist. What I wouldn’t give to see that.”
“Now, Your Highness,” the dressmaker scolded, making shooing motions toward the door. “You need to go now so I can finish my job.”
“Yes, yes. I’m leaving.” Before anyone could stop him he crossed the room in a half-dozen swift strides. Yanking Juliana from behind the screen, he gave her a long, thorough kiss. “To hell with bad luck,” he muttered against her mouth.
The instant he released her, Peri and her assistants ringed him, urging him toward the door. They almost succeeded in ousting him when he noticed piles of silk folded on top of her bed. “What are these?” he asked, detouring in that direction.
“Nightgowns. Please, Your Highness—”
He dug in his heels and gave the garments his full attention. “I’m not going anywhere until I see what you have here.” He shook out each piece and studied it with an experienced eye. “I like this one. A definite yes for the green. This one’s perfect. Great color. Please, God, yes. And—fair warning—” he swiveled toward Juliana and held up one of the selections “—if I ever see you in this, I rip it off and it goes directly into the fire.”
“In that case, I’ll be sure to wear it on our wedding night,” she returned.
“Huh.” He tilted his head to one side, considering. “Not a bad plan. Okay, fine. In another two weeks you can wear this one.”
“Two weeks!” Juliana shot out from behind the screen again. “What are you talking about…two weeks?”
“Didn’t I mention?” he asked with the utmost casualness. “We have an official wedding date.”
“There must be some mistake,” she began.
Returning the nightgowns to the bed, Lander cut her off. “Ladies? If you’ll excuse us?” Without a word, the dressmaker and her assistants vanished from the room, leaving him alone with his bride-to-be. “Problem?”
Regarding him warily, Juliana snatched up her silk robe and belted it. “What happened to taking our time? To having a slow and easy engagement period?”
He approached and caught the ends of her belt. One hard tug sent her tumbling against him as the robe came undone. “We can wait, if that’s what you’d prefer.” He slid his arms inside her robe and around her waist. “I just felt the timing was good.”
“Why? Why so soon?”
He shrugged. “It gives the country something to focus on other than my father’s death. Instead of grieving, they have the opportunity to celebrate. It also pulls the focus off the amethyst crisis, giving me time to get to the bottom of the problem without worrying about media scrutiny.”
“And the election?” She gave him a searching look. “Our marriage will help with that, too, won’t it?”
“Now you’re going to win the election for me?” He smiled in genuine amusement. “I seem to recall that just a few short days ago you were certain you would be responsible for my losing.”
She shot him a teasing look, relaxing. “Hey, that was before I became the cat’s meow. You marry me and the election’s in the bag.”
His amusement faded. “Tell me something, Juliana. Do you think I’d marry you…or not marry you, if it meant winning the election?”
She didn’t hesitate. “No, of course not.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “Do you really want to go through with this so quickly? You don’t have any doubts at all?”
He found he could answer with absolute sincerity. “None.”
She took a deep breath and then nodd
ed, undisguised happiness giving her face a breathtaking radiance. “Then it looks like we have fourteen days in which to finish organizing a wedding. Maybe you’d better call Peri back in. We have a lot to do if we’re going to be ready on time.”
“Later.” He took her mouth in a lingering kiss, one she returned with utter abandonment. “Much later.”
When Lander finally left Juliana’s room, he found himself thinking that while his bride thought two weeks far too soon for the ceremony, he found it an endless wait. He groaned in frustration. He’d never make it. Someone would slip up before then. Somehow she’d find out about that ungodly bargain he’d made with Joc. If the truth came out before the wedding could take place, she would walk. Hell, she’d run. And Verdonia would be ruined.
He shook his head in frustration. He should be worried about putting his people first, about his country’s economic future. Instead, all he could think about was Juliana. If she found out the truth, it would be worse than anything she’d experienced before. Being told in such a harsh manner that she was illegitimate had been bad. Having Stewart betray her trust and the public scandal that had resulted from that betrayal, had been worse. But this…this would destroy her. And it would be all his fault.
A rolling drum of thunder woke Juliana on her wedding day, while a white staccato blaze of lightning greeted her the instant she opened her eyes. Rain peppered the windows blown there by a gleeful wind that rattled the sashes and shutters in a vain attempt to invade her bedroom. Before she had an opportunity to do more than groan in dismay, the lights flickered on overhead and an entire platoon of determined women bustled in, Lander’s stepmother, Rachel, leading the parade.
“Perfect weather for a wedding,” she announced. “An excellent omen.”
Juliana sat up in bed and drew her knees toward her chest, eyeing the intruders with sleepy annoyance. They were all Montgomery family members, the connections so convoluted she needed a detailed genealogy to keep them straight. But it was tradition for them to help Juliana prepare for the wedding and keep her company, so she accepted their presence with good grace.
“A downpour on my wedding day is considered lucky?” A yawn interrupted the question.
“Without question.” To a woman, the others gathered in the room nodded in agreement. “Rain on your wedding day means you’ll be blessed with fertility and good fortune.”
Juliana glanced dubiously toward the window. “And what does thunder and lightning mean?
“It signifies a very passionate love affair.” Again the nods of agreement. Rachel came and sat on the edge of her bed. “Normally your mother would be performing the task I am today,” she said, taking Juliana’s hand in hers. “Lander told me she died when you were only ten. I hope you don’t mind that I’m substituting for her.”
Juliana shook her head. “Not at all. In fact, I appreciate it very much. It makes this part so much nicer.”
Rachel brightened. “That’s a relief.” She tugged at Juliana’s hand. “Up you go. You can’t believe how much there is to do if we’re to get you to the chapel on time.”
The first item on Rachel’s checklist was for Juliana to have breakfast with her and Lander’s stepsister, Miri, so they could discuss the day’s schedule. The two women were unmistakably mother and daughter, both with midnight-black hair as straight as Juliana’s was curly. Both had the same unusual bottle-green eyes and flawless complexions, just as both were delightfully unreserved.
To Juliana’s surprise, she sensed a certain strain between them and couldn’t help but wonder if they’d just had an argument, or if the thread of discord she sensed indicated that they disapproved of the wedding. Juliana could understand if that were the cause. She’d only conversed with Rachel on a handful of occasions. And she’d never met Miri before. No doubt they questioned the speed with which the wedding was taking place.
She waited until they’d been served before tackling the issue with customary directness. “Do you disapprove of Lander and me marrying so quickly?”
Both woman glanced at her, startled. “No,” they said in unison. It broke the tension and they all laughed.
Rachel leaned across the breakfast table and patted Juliana’s arm. “You can’t govern love. Or the speed with which it happens. Lander’s father and I only knew each other a week before he proposed. Merrick met his bride no more than two before they wed. And yet, I’ve never seen a couple more in love.” Juliana couldn’t mistake the sincerity in the older woman’s voice. “I’m delighted for you and Lander, and wish you only the best.”
“Thank you.” Relieved, she turned to Miri. “Lander speaks of you all the time. I’m sorry we haven’t had an opportunity to meet before this. Have you been away?”
It was as though she’d hit them with a live wire. Both women jolted in shock and after exchanging one startled look, were careful to avoid the other’s gaze. Juliana frowned. Oh, dear. If she didn’t miss her guess, she’d just discovered the source of the strain she’d noticed earlier.
“My daughter has been enjoying a brief vacation,” Rachel explained smoothly.
Miri’s chin jerked upward in clear defiance and she tossed her waist-length hair back over her shoulder. “Actually, I was hiding out on the Caribbean island of Mazoné after helping Merrick abduct his wife.”
“Miri!”
“Give it up, Mom. I’ll bet Lander’s already told her.” She shot Juliana a challenging look. “Hasn’t he?”
Juliana dabbed her mouth with the linen napkin. So much for asking what she’d assumed was an innocuous question. She’d opened up a veritable can of worms with that one casual inquiry. “He told me just the other day that Merrick had abducted Alyssa and that they ended up falling in love. But he didn’t mention your part in the affair.”
“I took Alyssa’s place at the altar in order to give Merrick time to get away.”
It was everything Juliana could do to keep her jaw from dropping open. She snatched up her teacup and buried her nose in her Earl Grey until she could control her expression. “Let me get this straight.” She couldn’t come up with a delicate way to phrase her question. “You’re married to Prince Brandt, the man Lander will face in the upcoming election?”
“It’s not legal.” To Juliana’s amusement, both women spoke in unison again.
“At least, we don’t think it is,” Miri added.
“What’s he like?” Juliana asked, curious to know more about Lander’s rival for the throne.
“He’s tall, dark and handsome, of course.”
“How can you call him handsome?” Rachel demanded. “He’s too austere to be considered handsome.”
“I don’t agree. You just think that because his features are more severe than the Montgomerys’, which sometimes makes him look hard.” An odd quality crept into Miri’s voice. “To answer your question, Juliana, he’s self-contained yet passionate. And he has this old-world charm about him. He puts honor and duty and responsibility before everything else. Everything. And once he makes up his mind about something, he’s impossible to sway.”
“Interesting.”
Juliana had learned to make swift assessments of people. Like her brother Joc, her judgment was rarely wrong—with the one disastrous exception of Stewart. Instinct told her Miri’s feelings toward Brandt ran deep. Secrets burned in those spring-green eyes, as well as pain. Not wanting to add to her pain, Juliana deliberately changed the subject, addressing Rachel.
“So, what’s next on my checklist?”
“After we’ve finished breakfast, you’ll meet with Father Lonighan. He’ll give you his formal blessing for the union and offer marital advice.”
“Have fun with that.”
“Miri! Then you have an hour to soak in your bath before the fun part begins.” Rachel ticked off on her fingers. “A massage, facial, manicure and pedicure.”
“Good Lord,” Juliana murmured faintly.
“Then Miri and I will return to help with your hair and makeup.”
&nbs
p; Miri grinned. “What she means is, we’ll watch while the experts take care of it. Then, in accordance to Verdonian tradition, Peri will sew you into your gown.”
“Yes, she told me about that part,” Juliana said. “But if I’m sewn in, how do I get out again, later?”
Rachel and Miri exchanged quick, mysterious smiles which worried Juliana no end. “You’ll see,” was all they’d say.
The rest of the day proceeded as outlined and the hours flew by. In no time she was having her hair fashioned into a gorgeous Gibson Girl hairstyle with ringlets framing her face and teasing the nape of her neck. Then the tiara she’d tried on at the museum was added to the arrangement. She hoped Lander would appreciate that she’d chosen something his mother had worn as a bride on a day very much like this one. She had the odd notion that it connected the two of them spiritually, one generation to another. As though aware of her feelings, Rachel gave her hand an understanding squeeze.
“Lander asked me to give this to you,” she whispered, and offered Juliana a square jeweler’s box.
Opening it, Juliana found the most striking pair of earrings she’d ever seen nestled inside on a velvet bed. They were a teardrop confection of diamonds and amethysts, both Royals and Blushes. Her hands trembled so badly she could barely put them on.
And finally came the gown itself, with Peri sewing her into it. As soon as she’d finished, she stepped back and nodded in a combination of approval and pride. The fitted bodice glittered with tiny amethysts of every shade. Layer after layer of tulle swept out from the narrow waistline in an endless train behind Juliana that folded and hooked to form an elegant bustle to make for easier maneuvering both before and after the actual ceremony.
And then they brought out her veil. A glorious confection of lace and tulle, it, too, glittered with amethysts. The lace and gemstones had all been set in an intricate pattern of swirls that managed to obscure her features while still allowing her to see. Now she understood how Miri had managed to fool Brandt when taking Alyssa’s place at the altar.
As soon as Rachel twitched the veil into place, Juliana was escorted from her bedroom suite to the front of the palace where a flower-bedecked horse-drawn carriage awaited. Joc stood beside it wearing a dove-gray tux and looking more handsome than she’d ever seen him.
