The Princess's New Year Wedding (The Princess Brides Book 1)

by Rebecca Winters

  “Yes, you should have!” Fausta blurted. “I’m proud of you. You haven’t seen Prince Stefano in years. Naturally, we’re all worried that something is wrong with Papà, but even so, you shouldn’t let this news make you do what you don’t want to do.”

  Donetta nodded. “I hate to tell you this, Lanza, but you’ve always been a lot like Cinderella from your favorite fairy tale. She, too, was sweet and believed everything would turn out in the end. But you don’t have a fairy godmother to save you. Otherwise, Alberto wouldn’t have died. You need to wake up before it’s too late.”

  “She’s right!” Fausta chimed once more, adding to Lanza’s turmoil. “Cinderella was a fool. She should have gone out into the world to find a man of the people, not some puppet prince, and enjoy a life away from a royal world. That’s what I’m planning to do.”

  Lanza understood her sisters well. Twenty-five-year-old Donetta had no intention of getting married and her parents knew it. But the day would come when they would demand that she marry some prince they approved of.

  She’d grown up wanting to be queen, with no man telling her what to do, but it would be impossible because of the succession law of their country that excluded women from ruling.

  As for Fausta, their twenty-four-year-old sister, she’d dreamed of marrying a commoner and having a life like her close friends in the city. Fausta thought she was safe, but in the end their parents wouldn’t allow it and she’d end up marrying a prince they’d picked out for her.

  That left Lanza as her parents’ hope for finding the perfect royal son-in-law. But Alberto’s death had rendered that null and void. Or so she’d thought!

  “We know how upset you are. Would you rather be alone?”

  Lanza turned to Fausta. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got a lot to think about.”

  “We’ll eat dinner and then come back up to talk. We’re here if you need us.” Donetta gave her a peck on the cheek before they left the apartment.

  Lanza turned toward the fire once more. What in the name of heaven was she going to do? She loved her father. The last thing she’d ever want would be to disappoint him or her mother, or do something that could make his condition worse.

  But to be asked to marry Stefano, who’d turned his back on everything in order to be free...

  She remembered one weekend in August when Alberto had come to see her and she’d asked him why he sometimes seemed sad. Lanza wanted to know the truth so she could understand him better.

  Alberto told her he missed his elder brother terribly since he no longer lived at the palace. They’d been incredibly close. A few days later Alberto sent her a letter with a picture of Stefano enclosed, looking gorgeous in a safari shirt. He’d been twenty-two in the photo, taken when he’d been working in Kenya.

  “I love that smile of his, Lanza. He’s my idol and always has been. There are times when I miss him like crazy. After you and I are married, I hope he’ll come around more often. I’d give anything to see more of him.”

  Lanza stoked the fire, recalling those words that had come straight from Alberto’s heart. He’d gotten his wish far too late. Stefano was back, and had proposed marriage to her.

  Stefano was an important, sophisticated man of the world and had been intimately involved with various women over the years, according to the media, so there were no surprises. If Alberto had been with other women this past year, Lanza knew nothing about it, but assumed he’d had a few girlfriends in the past.

  Marrying Stefano would mean having a normal intimate relationship that would produce a family in time. Her attraction for him had never changed, even though they hadn’t seen one another for a long time, but for some reason the thought of having relations with him made her nervous. She was an inexperienced and naive virgin. A shudder passed through her body.

  Would she be a disappointment as his wife?

  Could she bring herself to accept another royal proposal of marriage?

  If she did, it might increase her father’s longevity and give him the help he needed to rule. She loved her father. Perish the thought if he died early because she’d refused to go through with this marriage. How would she be able to bear the burden of that knowledge?

  Lanza was a mess.

  Her sisters were right. Her favorite fairy tale had been about Cinderella, who’d met her heart’s desire at the ball and had lived happily-ever-after with her prince. But that was never going to happen to her now.

  When Lanza finally turned away from the fire, she accepted the fact that she’d been a fool her whole life...

  I’ll never know love or be in love.

  On that note she left the apartment to find her parents and tell them she’d made her decision to accept Stefano’s proposal, but was stopped on her way out the door by her personal maid.

  “This came for you personally by courier from the royal palace in Umbriano, Your Highness.”

  “Thank you, Serena.”

  Lanza went back into the apartment to open it. Letters of condolences had poured into the palace for days through the post, but this had been hand delivered. There was no writing on the outside of the envelope. Who would be sending her a letter?

  Curious, she opened it and found a brief missive.

  Dear Lanza,

  What you and I are about to do is unprecedented. I’ve already had to leave the country for Kenya, where I’ll probably be working for at least six weeks. After that I must fly directly to Australia, and from there Bulgaria.

  I’ll try to get to Domodossola at some point to see you. If I can’t, I’ll email you so we can talk regularly and get prepared for the wedding. Phone calls are difficult because the mines where I work rarely have cell phone service.

  I’m afraid our life will have to begin after we meet at the altar.

  Don’t worry about our wedding night. We’ll spend it away from everyone while we sort out the rules of engagement.

  Stefano

  She gasped in surprise. Before she’d even given her parents or him her answer, Stefano had already sent this message assuming she would have fallen in line with their parents’ wishes.

  What on earth did he mean about the rules of engagement, unless he was implying he had a solution they could live with?

  Lanza sank down on the side of the bed, confused and unsettled as she reread it. Stefano’s work truly did take him around the world. When would he have time to help her father? Maybe she shouldn’t marry him, after all.

  “Lanza?”

  “Just a minute.” Hearing her sisters’ voices, she quickly buried the letter beneath a cushion on her bed and hurried over to the door to open it. “Come on in.”

  “We thought you might want company.”

  She didn’t know what she wanted.

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “Not yet. Papà said this marriage has the blessing of the cardinal. He says the citizens of both countries will accept it. But I think it seems like a sham and I feel guilty about it. Do you think it sounds honorable for Stefano to take Alberto’s place?”

  Fausta eyed her with concern. “It’s a year away, and they were close. I do remember that.”

  “But I don’t love him.”

  “Did you love Alberto?”

  She lowered her head. “No, but I liked him well enough. If I say yes and agree to marry Stefano, it will be because Papà needs a son-in-law to rely on.”

  “No.” Donetta came back with a friendly smile. “That won’t be the reason. You can’t fool Fausta and me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We both know you always had a crush on Stefano. Who could blame you? As the tabloids say, he’s the dishiest bachelor on the planet.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  One year later...

  A WINTRY NEW YEAR’S DAY brought thousands of people to line the street
s of the capital of Domodossola for the royal wedding. A national holiday had been declared and the sound of bells rang out.

  The kingdom had been preparing for this event since her betrothal to Alberto two years ago. Now that day was finally here with a different prince walking her down the aisle. Every shop was open to welcome visitors from all over Europe and beyond.

  Lanza sat across from her father in the gold leaf closed carriage that took them toward the cathedral in the distance. With every step of the matched white horses in trappings of red and gold bells that jingled, huge cheers from the masses rang out to celebrate this day unlike any other. Excitement filled the air to see the king accompanying his daughter to the long-anticipated wedding ceremony.

  Over the year she’d received dozens of long emails with pictures from Stefano while they’d discussed the plans for the wedding in the cathedral and the festivities afterward at the palace.

  She’d asked him questions about his locations and work. He’d explained a lot of technical things about mining she’d enjoyed. His descriptions of the people and mountains painted pictures that lived with her. Lanza hadn’t counted on him being such a satisfying letter writer, and she’d found herself eagerly looking forward to reading them when they came.

  But they hadn’t touched on their personal, intimate relationship yet. She was still anxious to talk to him about the rules of engagement. Those words had been dancing around in her head since his letter had arrived close to a year ago.

  What had Stefano really meant? If only he’d explained, it might have helped her get through this ordeal without so much angst. Those words had sounded cold and unfeeling coming from a worldly man who’d managed to avoid a royal life until now. Now that they were about to exchange vows, her fraught nerves had made her too jumpy to concentrate on anything.

  What she’d give to get out of the carriage and run for her life. Then she glanced at her father with his salt-and-pepper hair, who looked splendid despite the fact that he did move slower these days. The love in his eyes when he smiled at her helped her remember one of the reasons why she was going through with this farce of a marriage.

  Her father had been living for this day for years and might be granted a longer life because she’d agreed to marry his best friend’s only son now that Alberto was gone.

  “You look so beautiful in all that silk and lace, my angel daughter.”

  “Thank you, Papà, but I’m not your angel.” He’d always called her that, but since the day she’d learned her parents expected her to marry Stefano, she hadn’t felt very angelic.

  Through her mother, who talked constantly with Stefano’s mother, Lanza had learned Stefano planned to whisk her away for a two-week honeymoon to a secret spot in the Caribbean. She now had a wardrobe of beachwear.

  Two weeks alone in paradise.

  “I’m going to miss you around the palace while you’re on your honeymoon, my sweet girl.”

  She wasn’t as sweet as her father thought. “I’ll miss you, too. Today you look magnificent, like the king you are. I love you and I’m sorry abou—”

  “Let’s not talk about that day,” he interrupted. “We were all beside ourselves. You’ve brought me joy your whole life and it’s all in the past. Promise me you’ll forget it.”

  Her eyes smarted. “If you can, then I will, too.”

  But she would never forget. By agreeing to marry Stefano, all hope for personal happiness had died. Her mind kept going back to the note he’d had couriered to her.

  They were definitely doing something unprecedented.

  Soon the closed carriage drew up in front of the steps of the fourteenth-century cathedral. One of the footmen opened the door. She held her bouquet of white roses and stephanotis as he helped her step out, giving the press an opportunity to see her in all her wedding finery and take pictures.

  Her chestnut-colored hair had been swept back and cascaded beyond her shoulders. The lace veil draped over the pearl tiara worn by her great-great-grandmother fell to her chin in front and flowed down her back to meet the hem of her gown with its long train.

  Her father got out behind her and accompanied her up the steps to the roar and cheers of the thousands of people filling the streets. Lanza’s mother and sisters, along with her aunts, uncles and cousins, had already gone inside with the other dignitaries and waited in the pews. By now Prince Stefano’s entire family from Umbriano, including their future queen and her young children, would have already entered and been seated.

  Once inside the doors, Lanza heard the glorious organ music and choir, catching her off guard. She took a deep breath, realizing the moment had come when she had to pledge her life to a man who’d lost a brother, hated royal life and was as unhappy as Lanza.

  The wedding march sounded, alerting her this was it. Her father turned to look at her. “Are you ready?”

  No...

  Like an automaton, she put her free hand on his left arm, and they walked into the Romanesque nave that was packed wall to wall with the invited guests turned out in elegant dress. The fascinators worn by the women made the scene resemble a garden even though it was winter.

  With each step that took her closer to the altar where the cardinal stood resplendent in red and gold robes, her legs felt less substantial. Then she saw Stefano waiting in a magnificent royal suit of navy and gold braid. Across his chest from shoulder to waist he wore the bright blue sash of his office as Prince of the Realm of Umbriano.

  At the funeral she’d hardly noticed him with everyone around. They’d all been in mourning. Lanza had been in such deep shock, she hadn’t realized that over the years he’d grown taller than Alberto. Looking at him now, he probably stood six foot two and was built of rock-hard muscle.

  A little closer and she gasped quietly. His burnished complexion reflected his work and travel in hot climates. Mesmerized, her gaze roved over his chiseled features set beneath dark brows and wavy black-brown hair. The boy had become a breathtaking man.

  As the tabloids had claimed leading up to the marriage, he was a dashing male specimen. She suspected he had to shave twice a day and was more gorgeous than her idea of any prince in an old fairy tale.

  Her heart tripped over itself. Stefano was going to be her husband. The man she would go to bed with and whose children she’d bear. She gripped her father’s arm harder and continued walking until they reached the cardinal, who put out his arms.

  “Come stand in front of me.”

  Stefano moved to Lanza’s side. She let go of her father’s arm and handed Donetta the flowers, then turned back to meet his dark, penetrating eyes. A thunderbolt passing through her body couldn’t have been more electrifying. Shaken by emotions new to her and an instant awareness of him, she transferred her gaze to the cardinal, who opened with some prayers, before proceeding to the marriage ceremony.

  “Stefano Amadeo Piero Casale, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together according to God’s law in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

  “I will,” he said in a deep voice Lanza felt resonate to her toes.

  “Lanza Vittoria Immaculata Rossiano, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together according to God’s law in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honor him, keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

  “I will.”

  “You will now exchange rings.”

  Stefano, not missing a heartbeat, reached for her left hand and slid a ring with the royal Umbriano crest on her finger. She in turn put the gold band with the Rossiano crest on his ring finger. She felt tense and wondered if he could tell. “In as much as Stefano and Lanza have consented together in holy wedl
ock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands, I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

  “You may kiss the bride, Your Highness.”

  * * *

  A year ago Lanza had worn the black veil of mourning. Since then Stefano had been imagining this moment. When she’d approached him at the altar—a vision in white silk—her white lace veil had given him enticing glimpses of her lovely features and deep blue eyes. As he lifted it, what he hadn’t counted on was her true classic beauty or the voluptuous shape of her mouth.

  His heart pounded hard as he lowered his head to kiss her. Much as he wanted to taste her fully, he held back and only brushed his mouth against hers. The soft sweetness of her lips sent a sensation not unlike electricity through his body. The princess he’d met when she was just a young girl had grown into a breathtaking woman who was now his wife. His wife!

  “We’ll talk in the carriage,” he whispered against the fragrant silky skin of her cheek before he lifted his head.

  Organ music filled the cathedral while he took her hand in a firm grip. Donetta came forward to give her the flowers and they started down the aisle. He was now a married man who’d made promises to his new bride, who walked at his side. They made their way outside to the ringing of the cathedral bells, followed by bells ringing out all over the city.

  He felt like they were part of a dream as he helped her into the same carriage he knew she’d ridden in with her father. Stefano climbed in and sat opposite her, hoping she’d meet his eyes. “This is where we have to wave at the crowd. They’re eager to see the beautiful princess and take pictures.”

  “If the temperature keeps falling, maybe everyone will go home.”

  He studied her features. “You know they won’t. This wedding has been anticipated for two years.”

  She nodded. “We’re part of the fairy tale meant to be exciting for them, but by midnight it’ll all be over and the real test of living will begin.”