Winning the Queen's Heart: Contemporary Christian Romance (The Brides of Belles Montagnes Book 2)

by Moncado, Carol

  Christiana blinked a few times. “Why would they do such a thing?”

  “Apparently, in the 1600s, the king died with no male heirs. He had a daughter who everyone believed should inherit the throne but a law from a hundred years before required any queen to be married before she could take the throne. Her uncle ruled as a conservator until a marriage could be arranged.” She winced as he hurried on. “Unlike your uncle, he only had the best intentions and planned to turn power over to the queen upon her marriage. She and one of the dukes decided to marry but as a political alliance only. When the rest of the aristocracy got word of this, they demanded proof the marriage was consummated. What kind of proof wasn’t mentioned, and the last time the law was invoked a sworn statement was required of the prime minister at the time.”

  “And this law is still on the books?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The title made her uncomfortable. Alexander was her husband, not a subject. Even as a friend she had asked him to drop the formality, but he never had. Just the one time before he proposed.

  “How long have you known?” How long had he been keeping it from her?

  “Since yesterday morning. I didn’t want to stress you out. You had enough on your plate without worrying about tonight.”

  “I already worried about tonight,” she admitted, shocking even herself.

  He turned to look at her. “Given our circumstances, my thoughts were that we should wait until we were both comfortable to take that next step. The prime minister said the law allows him to choose the kind of confirmation. He told me he will take our silence on the matter as confirmation that attempts to conceive an heir began as soon as reasonably possible. His words, not mine. The statement is so ambiguous as to mean just about anything.”

  Of course. Prime Minister Caruso was one of the few people who knew the sordid details of the last few weeks. He was doing his best to give them a way out while still upholding the letter of the law.

  “He’s been researching it. For centuries, the newly married king or Crown Prince and his bride would enter the bridal chamber while the party continued. The king or prince would emerge some time later to great cheering as the royal line had now been guaranteed for another generation. Or so they believed.”

  “This is before the law?”

  “Yes. And part of the reason why the law was written. When it became known this daughter and her duke would enter the bridal chamber, and the new prince consort would emerge sometime later without consummation taking place, they felt the need to make it official.”

  “I see.” The sound of her thudding heart filled Christiana’s ears. “What do you propose we do then, Alexander?”

  She watched him take a deep breath in and exhale slowly. “I will leave it up to you. There is no reason for anyone to ask us about it. The prime minister believes he’s the only one even aware of the law. Everyone will assume they know what happens here tonight.”

  “It would be dishonest to let Prime Minister Caruso believe something that is not true, correct?”

  A quick nod. “It absolutely could be interpreted that way. However, ‘as soon as reasonably possible’ could be anytime between now and the time either one of us dies. I believe he fully expects us to wait until we’re ready.”

  “But he did not actually say that?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Thoughts and emotions swirled into a vortex inside. “Very well.” She stood, her wedding dress feeling more constricting than before.

  Alexander stood with her. “Whatever you choose, Queen Christiana...” His voice trailed off.

  “Thank you, Alexander.”

  Now she stared in the mirror, still uncertain as to what her decision would be. It felt dishonest to allow the prime minister to believe something that was not true, no matter how he worded it to Alexander.

  But to be intimate with him? Was she ready for that? Was he? Would the champagne from the toasts cloud her judgment? It could not be wrong in the same sense it would be if they were not married, but would she make the same decision if she were not a bit tipsy?

  Christiana looked herself over. Comfortable pajamas. Flannel pants. Long sleeved t-shirt. Not exactly romantic or sexy, but she knew the cabin contained only one bed. She would not ask Alexander to sleep on the couch. Except for their time on the yacht, they would be expected to share a bed until they returned to the palace in nine weeks’ time. She had packed accordingly.

  When she decided she had stalled long enough, Christiana emerged from the bathroom to find Alexander sitting on the back deck, overlooking the Mediterranean. Long tan legs emerged from his cargo shorts as he stretched out on one of the Adirondack chairs. If he was disappointed by her attire, it did not show.

  Christiana sat in the chair next to him. “It is a lovely evening.”

  “It is.”

  “Could we just talk for a while and see what happens?”

  “Of course.” He turned and gave her what had to be his best smile. “Let’s talk.”

  Chapter 7

  Alexander leaned his forearms against the railing and stared out at the surf. Sipping from his mug of coffee, the ring on his left hand caught his eye. His first full day as a married man. They would spend another night at the cabin then board the yacht for a week at sea visiting the islands of the country. He did have a meeting finally scheduled with Yvette about the wedding scheduled for June. He hated to do it on their honeymoon, but there was enough of a break the day they returned to Bianisola that he could work it in then.

  He hoped Queen Christiana would sleep most of the morning. With her expertly applied make-up removed, he could see the dark circles under her eyes. She desperately needed the rest.

  After finishing his coffee, he sat on the porch swing with his Bible and a devotional book for husbands. Of course, none of the devotions said anything about marrying a queen, but surely the concepts would be applicable. Alexander spent over an hour on the porch, pulling out his Kindle once his quiet time was finished.

  It was a few minutes after noon, when he heard stirring inside. The shower turned on a moment later, and he went back to his book. Another hour passed, and he started thinking about lunch when Queen Christiana emerged from the cabin. Her slender legs were encased in blue denim tucked into cowgirl boots. A button-down shirt completed the American West look.

  A chuckle escaped when she clapped a cowgirl hat on her head. “Very nice.”

  She shrugged. “We did get married in a barn. I thought it appropriate. Did I get the look right?”

  “You did.” He stood and went into the kitchen. “Do you want breakfast or lunch?”

  “Whatever is easiest.” She perched on a barstool to watch him. “Do you cook?”

  “Oh yes. Mom made sure we both knew how even though it wasn’t something we had to do often.” He pulled an egg carton and some milk out of the fridge. “How about French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon?”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  They made small talk as he expertly moved around the kitchen and while they ate. “What do you want to do for the rest of the day?” he asked as he cleaned up.

  “I brought some work with me. It is not my first choice, but I do have a few things I need to get done before we arrive at our first stop tomorrow evening.” He could hear the regret in her voice, though he imagined she didn’t really want to spend all day with him. Things could easily get awkward.

  “I don’t mind,” he told her, putting the last of the dishes in the drainer. “I have several books downloaded onto my Kindle that I’ve been looking forward to.”

  The rest of the day passed quietly. At some point, the queen turned on some soft jazz music as she worked at the counter in the kitchen. Around six, he made a simple dinner of spaghetti and a tossed salad. By midnight, he’d finished two books, and she was asleep on what was now her side of the bed. Turning off the lights, Alexander slid under the covers, rolling to stare at the moonlight glinting off the sea. Whispering a prayer over
his wife, their marriage, and his adopted country, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

  * * *

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  Lizbeth kept her arms wrapped around her stomach as she stared over the bright blue ocean beyond the balcony.

  “I guess.”

  Robe clad arms slid around her waist, pulling her back into his strong chest. “Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”

  Lizbeth sighed and turned, winding her arms around Robert’s waist. “I wish we didn’t have to hide. I’m glad no one knows, but I still wish...”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I’m ready to tell everyone when you are, but I understand the reasons to stay quiet.”

  Like her father and the threats he’d made after being kicked out of the king’s birthday party. She was pretty sure he knew what happened with the house guest in Ravenzario, but just as certain he didn’t know the consequences of that night - including her secret wedding to Robert Padovano.

  She let go and turned back around. “I’m here helping Yvette plan her wedding. It makes me sad that we didn’t have a real one.”

  His hands rested on her shoulders. “We had the only kind of wedding that counts. A legal one. All that matters is you’re protected from your father and anything he might want to try to make you do or do to you.”

  “And if he catches us here together?”

  “We’re not at your family’s property. We’re checked into a very exclusive hotel run by friends of mine. He won’t know we’re here and there are no memories for you.”

  They’d tried to stay at her family’s house once, but her anxiety ramped up before they even got there, and he’d insisted they go somewhere else.

  “I do have to leave soon, though.” Robert pulled her back to him again. “I love you, Lizbeth Padovano.”

  “I know. I love you, too.” She hadn’t understood what love was until the night she told Robert everything, the things no one else knew, including things her father never suspected.

  “Don’t forget, we have a dinner Friday night.”

  She turned and smiled as he walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth. “I know. I can’t wait.” Everyone knew they dated occasionally. A fundraising dinner gave them a chance to be together in public.

  As he reemerged, Robert adjusted his suit coat. “Don’t let the wedding planning get to you, love.” His hands came to rest on her hips. “If you want a ceremony when we’re ready to go public, we’ll have one. As big or as small as you want.”

  Lizbeth rested her hands on his chest. “I know, and I appreciate that.” She gave him a wicked grin. “I’m just glad Queen Christiana’s honeymoon trip to Bianisola coincided with a time Yvette could come, and you happened to be here for that Commonwealth meeting yesterday.” The queen and her new husband would be on the island, nearly a week after the wedding, visiting with the locals like they would be in so many other places. Prince Alexander would be able to talk with them at least for a little while about the early planning and give them all of the paperwork for planning Yvette’s non-wedding to the late Prince Nicklaus.

  “Me, too.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Call me tonight?”

  “Of course.”

  One more kiss, and he left. Lizbeth went back to staring out the window. She had an hour before she needed to leave to make it to Bianisola on time. The royal plane would land on the airstrip there. She and Yvette wouldn’t need to go back to the main islands to head home after the meeting.

  Turning off my phone. Love you. TTYL.

  Lizbeth smiled, but wouldn’t text back for a few minutes. That way Robert would see it when he turned his phone back on. He could work on a flight, pay for the in-air Wi-Fi, but the trips were short enough he liked to just relax.

  Ninety minutes later, she sat in the office with the newest prince consort in the Commonwealth. “Thank you for meeting with us, Your Royal Highness.” Yvette sat next to her, but looked like she had no desire to get involved.

  Alexander chuckled. “We’ve met before, Lizbeth. Several times.”

  She shifted. “I know, but you’re married to the queen now. You’re a duke.”

  “I’m still just Alexander.” He pulled a binder out of his drawer and turned it around so it faced them. “This is your planning binder.” He looked at Yvette. “I’m sure the protocol people at the palace will have their own version of plans.”

  Yvette shrugged. “I guess. I don’t really care.”

  “You have to care.” Lizbeth tried to be gentle. “I know why you don’t, but you have to give this at least lip service. Think about it.” She tried to appeal to Yvette’s fashionable side. “You can pick everything without anyone else caring. That might not happen next time.” Lizbeth glanced at Alexander in time to see the odd look on his face quickly replaced by an impassive one. “The dress you want. The flowers you want. The music you want.”

  Yvette seemed to be thinking that over. “Fine. Whatever.” She reached for the binder. “Let’s get started.”

  First Couple of Ravenzario to give First Interview

  Today, Matt Markinson of TCBC will sit down with Queen Christiana and Alexander, Duke of Testudines, for their first interview since their wedding Saturday. Portions of the interview will air during this evening's five, six, and ten o'clock news.

  Since the wedding, the people have been learning about the new prince consort. Speculation as to the reasons to keep his identity a secret continue to run rampant, but those who attended the wedding and the reception, as well as those who have seen them on their stops in the days since, report that the two are very much in love.

  The one hour special will premiere Friday evening at seven p.m.

  Chapter 8

  Christiana lay stretched out on the top deck of the royal yacht. The sun beat down, though it was not warm enough for swim suits. The last few days had been both slow and hectic. The travel from island to island was pure enjoyment. She loved being on the water, but when they arrived in port, she and Alexander had to put on their happy faces and act as though they deeply loved each other. He held her hand or offered his elbow to escort her, but there was no kissing or even the linking of their fingers together. In some ways, she was glad those public displays of affection were taboo for herself, as the monarch, and Alexander, as the prince consort. Deep inside, though, she longed for that more intimate connection that came with that kind of affection.

  He had not kissed her since their wedding day, or rather, their wedding night.

  Alexander sat in the lounge chair next to her. “Today is our first interview.”

  She looked over to see him with his eyes closed, soaking in the sun. When she noticed the interview on the schedule this morning, she cringed. The lead royal reporter for the largest network in Ravenzario would be sitting down with them for an hour long interview then following them throughout their time in Whisper Cove.

  “Do we need to get our story straight?” Alexander asked.

  “What story is there to keep straight? We met a number of years ago. You proposed one night in the garden using my mother’s engagement ring. We decided to keep your identity a secret for the time being for personal reasons. Now we are married, and you continue to call me ‘Queen Christiana’ and ‘ma’am’ even in private.” It irked her more than a little. It kept her heart protected, not letting anyone close enough to get beyond the formal barrier. But Alexander was her husband now. Surely, he could drop the formality, at least in private.

  A glance over the railing showed the next island stop in the distance. Christiana stood up and Alexander stood with her. “I need to get ready.” She guessed they had a little over an hour before they would arrive. A quick shower, hair, make-up, and figure out what she would wear for her first interview as a married woman. She did not give interviews very often and never with someone by her side. Alexander seemed comfortable around all sorts of people, and she had seen him give statements to the press after the arrest of her uncle. He would be much more at
ease than she would be.

  They started down the stairs toward the lower deck. “Why did we decide not to release my identity?”

  “Because of your involvement in the take-down of my uncle.” She reached the bottom of the narrow staircase. “We did not want anyone asking those awkward questions. Now, it’s been a year, the statements have been given, and we make it clear those questions are off the table.” It had come to her in the last few minutes. A plausible explanation while not allowing too many questions.

  Just over an hour later, she slid her feet into soft leather knee boots, tugging them up over her jeans and zipping the side. A bright purple pea coat went over her sweater and a wispy purple and pink scarf around her neck. Checking her appearance in the mirror, she left the master suite of the yacht. The one she had planned to share with him. Part of her wished she shared it with Alexander. The rest of her was glad he had not pushed.

  As she walked down the hall, he emerged from his suite. Tan slacks, and a button down, open collared shirt. He wore boots of his own, though she could only see the lower portion. A brown leather jacket hung open around his broad shoulders.

  Christiana had to admit he looked wonderful. Hot, she believed was the vernacular. He did not belong with her. He belonged with a supermodel who would help raise money for starving children in Africa and with his other charities. One of the women who had accompanied him to more than one ball. She did not want to think about what may have happened after they left palace grounds.

  “You look lovely.” Alexander reached out and touched her cheek with the back of his index finger.

  Why did he say such things where no one would overhear? “Thank you. You look very nice yourself.” Did he have an ulterior motive?

  The yacht had docked a few minutes earlier, and she knew the plank would be down and waiting for them. Alexander stayed a step behind as they walked down the gangway. When she reached the bottom, the mayor of Whisper Cove, who she had met twice before, waited. He bowed slightly at the waist.