The Expectant Princess

THE EDENBOURG TATTLER

March 2001

Word has it that with the king’s disappearance Princess Dominique Stanbury has returned to Edenbourg sporting a green complexion and enough bouts of morning sickness to draw some very serious conclusions. Not only that, but Marcus Kent, the king’s right-hand man, hasn’t left her side since she stepped off the royal jet. Could it be that Marcus is responsible for the princess’s delicate condition? And if the king is ever found, will he condone Marcus’s inclusion in the royal mix and allow his loyal employee to marry the princess he’s so obviously in love with?

The Blacksheep Prince’s Bride

(SR #1510)

by Martha Shields

Dear Reader,

You asked for more ROYALLY WED titles and you’ve got them! For the next four months we’ve brought back the Stanbury family—first introduced in a short story by Carla Cassidy on our Harlequin.com Web site. Be sure to check the archives to find Nicholas’s story! But don’t forget to pick up Stella Bagwell’s The Expectant Princess and discover the involving story of the disappearance of King Michael.

Other treats this month include Marie Ferrarella’s one hundredth title for Silhouette Books! This wonderful, charming and emotional writer shows her trademark warmth and humor in Rough Around the Edges. Luckily for all her devoted readers, Marie has at least another hundred plots bubbling in her imagination, and we’ll be seeing more from her in many of our Silhouette lines.

Then we’ve got Karen Rose Smith’s Tall, Dark & True about a strong, silent sheriff who can’t bear to keep quiet about his feelings any longer. And Donna Clayton’s heroine asks Who Will Father My Baby?—and gets a surprising answer. No Place Like Home by Robin Nicholas is a delightful read that reminds us of an all-time favorite movie—I’ll let you guess which one! And don’t forget first-time author Roxann Delaney’s debut title, Rachel’s Rescuer.

Next month be sure to return for The Blacksheep Prince’s Bride by Martha Shields, the next of the ROYALLY WED series. Also returning are popular authors Judy Christenberry and Elizabeth August.

Happy reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

The Expectant Princess

Stella Bagwell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Lloyd Henry Cook, who was surely a king in a past life,

or at the very least a prince. This one is for you, dear brother.

Books by Stella Bagwell

Silhouette Romance

Golden Glory #469

Moonlight Bandit #485

A Mist on the Mountain #510

Madeline’s Song #543

The Outsider #560

The New Kid in Town #587

Cactus Rose #621

Hillbilly Heart #634

Teach Me #657

The White Night #674

No Horsing Around #699

That Southern Touch #723

Gentle as a Lamb #748

A Practical Man #789

Precious Pretender #812

Done to Perfection #836

Rodeo Rider #878

*Their First Thanksgiving #903

*The Best Christmas Ever #909

*New Year’s Baby #915

Hero in Disguise #954

Corporate Cowgirl #991

Daniel’s Daddy #1020

A Cowboy for Christmas #1052

Daddy Lessons #1085

Wanted: Wife #1140

†The Sheriff’s Son #1218

†The Rancher’s Bride #1224

†The Tycoon’s Tots #1228

†The Rancher’s Blessed Event #1296

†The Ranger and the Widow Woman #1314

†The Cowboy and the Debutante #1334

†Millionaire on Her Doorstep #1368

The Bridal Bargain #1414

Falling for Grace #1456

The Expectant Princess #1504

Silhouette Special Edition

Found: One Runaway Bride #1049

†Penny Parker’s Pregnant! #1258

Silhouette Books

Fortunes of Texas

The Heiress and the Sheriff

Maitland Maternity

Just for Christmas

STELLA BAGWELL

sold her first book to Silhouette in 1985. More than forty novels later, she still says she isn’t completely content unless she’s writing. Recently she and her husband of thirty years moved from the hills of Oklahoma to Seadrift, Texas. Stella says the water, the tropical climate and the seabirds make it a lovely place to let her imagination soar.

She and her husband have one son, Jason, who lives and teaches high school math in nearby Port Lavaca.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Prologue

March, 2001

“She’s going to be a beautiful princess.”

Queen Josephine of Edenbourg’s announcement was accompanied with a tender smile for the three-month-old baby cradled in the arms of her doting father.

“LeAnn already is a beautiful princess,” Prince Nicholas proudly corrected his mother. “She’s going to grow up to be the spitting image of Rebecca.”

The prince’s comment produced a blush on the face of his young American-born wife and happy laughter among the group crowded around the baby and her proud parents.

Outside, a cool rain was falling on the majestic towers of Edenbourg Abbey, but inside the ancient cathedral the mood was warm and festive. Family, friends and dignitaries from several countries had gathered to attend the christening of baby LeAnn, first grandchild of the king and queen of Edenbourg, one of the most beautiful countries in Eastern Europe, and daughter to the heir to the throne.

“Well put, my son. LeAnn is already quite beautiful,” Josephine agreed. The slender woman with a sleek brown chignon and regal stature touched a gentle finger to the baby’s rosy cheek. “And so far she’s behaved like a little angel.”

“Yes, so far,” Rebecca spoke up in worried motherly fashion. “But I fear once the bishop takes hold of her she’s going to start wailing at the top of her lungs.”

Once more chuckles abounded throughout the group. As if on cue, the baby looked around with wide innocent eyes, then not caring one whit that her audience was made up of royal bloodlines dating back to medieval times, she gave them a toothless grin.

Standing at the prince’s right elbow, golden-haired Princess Dominique Stanbury, the youngest of the Stan-bury siblings, smiled affectionately as she reached for her new niece.

“Let me hold her, dear brother. You’re positively too greedy where your daughter is concerned. You’re going to have her spoiled rotten before she’s old enough to sit upright.”

With a groan of feigned reluctance, the tall young prince with black hair handed the baby to his younger sister. “That’s what princesses are for, aren’t they? To be spoiled. Father certainly pampered you,” he teased.

A spate of laughter followed his words. Dominique wrinkled her nose at him and glanced at her older sister, Isabel, who was standing a few steps away from their brother. “Isabel, you’re not going to let him get away with that, are you?”

Princess Isabel laughed as her gaze seesawed back and forth between her two siblings. Like Dominique, she possessed a tall, slender build and light green eyes. But where Dominique’s thick mane was golden brown and fell to the middle of her back, Isabel’s was dark brown and just brushed the top of her shoulders. An impish smile appeared on her face as she spoke. “Don’t worry, sister, LeAnn will give our brother a special lesson in spoiling princesses. And I can’t wait to see how well he holds up under the strain.”

The whole family chuckled, except for little LeAnn. The baby began to fuss and Dominique instinctively rocked her with a gentle swaying motion. At the same time, she noticed her mother’s attention was once again riveted to her wristwatch. The gesture was out of character for Josephine, who approached every social event with smooth and steady confidence.

Bending her head toward her mother’s ear, she asked, “What’s wrong, Mother? You’ve been checking the time after every minute.”

Casting an anxious eye toward the massive carved doors at the entrance of the cathedral, the queen said, “It’s really getting rather late in the hour. I expected your father to be here by now.”

Catching the last part of his mother’s distressed comment, Nicholas consulted the timepiece strapped to his wrist. “There’s still fifteen minutes before the ceremony starts. I’m sure Father will be showing up any minute.”

Exasperation was evident in the brief shake of Josephine’s head. “I tried to persuade him to ride with me this morning, but he insisted he had some sort of brief business to take care of before he joined us here at the abbey. He then left with only an armed driver. I do hope there hasn’t been some sort of trouble that forced him to return to the castle.”

The queen turned a commanding look on her son. “Nicholas, go question security. Perhaps they’ve been in radio contact.”

As the prince walked away to do her bidding, Dominique pulled her mother a few steps aside of the group of family and friends.

“It isn’t like you to get so alarmed, Mother,” she said in a hushed tone. “I’m sure Father was just detained with business. It certainly won’t be the first time.”

Queen Josephine gave her daughter a halfhearted smile. “You are right. But something—” With another unusual display of nerves, she pressed a jeweled hand to her throat. “I can’t explain it. But something has left me with an uneasy feeling. Michael was so looking forward to his granddaughter’s christening and—”

Her words paused as the guests around them began to exchange excited whispers and stare toward the entrance of the cathedral.

Both mother and daughter turned to see the line of security at the massive doors had parted and a tall man with gray hair was striding toward the congregation standing near the altar. A younger, dark-haired man followed immediately on his heels.

The massive size of the church made the distance too great to exactly identify the men. But from the tall stature and gray hair of the older one, Dominique was certain it had to be her father, the king.

She turned a relieved smile on her mother. “See, there he is now. Your worrying was all for naught.”

A slight frown creased Josephine’s forehead as she continued to study the advancing male figures. “That isn’t Michael. I don’t recognize either of these men.”

By now Nicholas had returned from questioning the guards. His grim expression caused such alarm to rush through Dominique, she completely forgot about the two strangers.

“What does security say?” Josephine quickly questioned him.

Nicholas shook his head. “They haven’t heard from Father since he and his driver left the castle more than an hour ago. A detail is out checking the route at this very moment.”

Before mother or sister could question him further, the two unknown men, accompanied by one security guard, approached the queen.

All went suddenly quiet and everyone in the huge church looked on with a bit of amazement as the elder of the two men bowed deeply from the waist. A royal christening with gate-crashers didn’t happen in Edenbourg. Not even rarely.

In a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, he said, “Your Majesty, I hope you will forgive me for trespassing on this special occasion. I am your husband’s brother, Edward Stanbury. And this is my eldest son, Luke.” He gestured toward the younger man at his side, who in turn bowed to the queen.

Murmurs of disbelief rippled through the guests while Josephine simply stared at the two intruders. From the rigid line of her jaw, Dominique could tell her mother was trying not to reveal her shock at this sudden turn of events. Edward Stanbury had left the country of Edenbourg years ago to become a citizen of the United States. He and King Michael were estranged and had been for as long as Dominique could remember.

“You’ve traveled far,” Josephine finally spoke to the two men. “Does King Michael know of your arrival?”

Edward opened his mouth to answer, but before he could utter a word, his son, Luke, quickly interceded. “We’ve only just now come from the airport, Your Majesty, and—”

The remainder of the younger man’s sentence was missed as another flurry of activity caused everyone’s attention to swing once again to the entrance of the cathedral. Instantly, mouths gaped and soft gasps of alarm sounded. A royal guard was rushing toward the christening party as if demons were on his heels.

Clearly anticipating that something was amiss, Nicholas put a bracing hand under his mother’s elbow. Next to Dominique, Rebecca silently reached for her daughter. Dominique carefully handed LeAnn back to her sister-in-law and waited with the rest as the young guard bowed before the royal family.

“What is it, man?” Nicholas demanded impatiently.

The guard’s words came out in a breathless rush. “I fear it’s bad news, Your Highness. The king and his driver have been involved in an accident. The car crashed through a guardrail and careened down the side of a steep cliff. We believe both men are dead.”

Wails of utter shock and horror rose from the crowd to echo off the hallowed walls of the cathedral. Before Dominique could begin to comprehend the news, a security detail was surrounding Nicholas.

At the same time, Marcus Kent, the king’s high counsel, was pushing his way forward through the group of stunned dignitaries and friends.

In a daze, Dominique watched as he lay his hand on her brother’s shoulder and soberly spoke, “According to the Edenbourg Treatise, it is now my solemn duty to proclaim Nicholas to be the acting king of Edenbourg until Michael is found or declared dead.”

Josephine gripped her son’s arm. “What do you mean found?” she asked Marcus. “Has the king’s body not yet been recovered?”

Marcus shook his head. “No. Security has just now informed me that King Michael’s body is missing from the accident scene.”

Dominique didn’t hear the laments of those around her. Nor did she realize a cry of pain was spilling from her own lips as she pressed a hand to her stomach and rushed from the abbey.

Chapter One

A few steps away from the cathedral’s grassy courtyard, Dominique laid her cheek against a column of cool marble and tried to calm her roiling stomach.

Dear God, don’t let me be sick now, she silently prayed. Her mother, her family were going to need her strength. They couldn’t be burdened with the secret she carried. At least, not now.

Even though she desperately tried to hold them back, tears poured from her eyes. She was a princess, bred and tutored to be strong under the very worst of circumstances. If her father knew she was displaying such emotion in a public place he would be horrified and angry.

The sobering thought braced her somewhat and she forced herself to dig a tiny embroidered kerchief from her handbag. With trembling hands, she carefully dabbed at the moisture beneath her eyes.

“Dominique? Are you all right?”

Dominique’s heart went still, then lurched into a hard, anxious thud. Nearly four years had passed since she’d seen him, but the male voice behind her was as familiar as yesterday’s sunset.

Squaring her shoulders, she stepped away from the marble column and turned to face the man she’d tried her best to forget.

Even before Marcus Kent had become her father’s top adviser, he’d been an impressive figure of a man both intellectually and physically. At two inches over six feet, he was all lean muscle and broad shoulders. Short, raven-black hair waved slightly back from a wide forehead and strong, roughly chiseled features. Thick black eyebrows and lashes framed a pair of eyes that were nothing less than striking. Their smoky-topaz color was as unique as the man himself.

At thirty-three he was twelve years Dominique’s senior. Yet as she gazed at him now, she knew she had never met a man who stirred her more.

“It wasn’t necessary for you to check on me, Marcus. But thank you just the same.”

Three strides carried him to within inches of her and she felt herself quivering with renewed awareness as his solemn gaze searched her upturned face. The years she’d been away at university in the States had been kind to him. He looked just as virile and potently masculine as he had that day she’d said goodbye.

“You were very white when you fled your family a moment ago. I wanted to make certain you hadn’t fainted.”

“I’m sure a guard followed me.” She wouldn’t know of life any other way. Being a member of a royal family made her a target. She’d long ago had to counsel herself to the fact that her movements in public, no matter how trivial, were almost always watched and her behavior scrutinized. Especially here in the city of Old Stanbury.

“I expect at this moment you need more than a guard’s presence.”

His gentle suggestion caused pricks of fresh tears to burn the backs of her eyes. Determined to do her father proud, she blinked and sniffed and swallowed them down. But the idea that King Michael might really be gone from their lives drained the very strength from her legs and she grabbed for Marcus’s hand almost at the same moment he reached out to steady her.

“Oh, Marcus,” she said hoarsely. “This has to be a nightmare. Please tell me Father can’t be dead.”

From the moment Marcus had spotted Dominique entering the cathedral this morning, his insides had gathered into hard knots and remained that way. In the past few days, he’d learned from the king himself that she was home from university to attend this morning’s christening. But he’d deliberately avoided going by her suite of rooms in the family’s palace to say hello.

Years ago Marcus had made a point to quell her schoolgirl adulation for him and, in doing so, he suspected he’d crushed her young pride. At the time he’d not set out to deliberately hurt or embarrass her. Quite the opposite, in fact. He’d always been genuinely fond of Dominique and he’d wanted to send her off to university with a clear mind. Not cluttered with romantic notions for an older man.

Four years had passed since then, and he figured somewhere in between she’d forgiven him for forcing her to take off her rose-colored glasses where he was concerned. As for himself, the years Dominique had been away had seen him married with high hopes, then divorced with bitter regret.

Now he wished he had made a point of seeing Dominique before this morning. Maybe then he would have been prepared for the drastic change in her appearance. She’d grown into a woman whose beauty knocked the very breath from his lungs.

Her tall, slender body now moved with grace and poise. The golden-brown cap of curls he remembered framing her face had grown into long waves that very nearly touched the back of her waist. Today the thick tresses were pulled back from her temples with diamond-studded combs that matched the loops of diamonds dangling from her earlobes. He recalled her eyes being the same pale green he was looking into, only now their open innocence was gone, replaced by a provocative slant and a touch of shadowy mystery that was utterly feminine. A perfectly straight nose led down to an equally perfect set of lips. Plump and moist; the top lip dipped deeply in the middle, the bottom curved to an enticing pout.

No doubt she had been properly kissed since he’d last seen her, Marcus thought. In fact, for all he knew, she might have already given her heart to some young man.

The gentle pressure of her fingers tightening around his brought Marcus out of his wandering thoughts—thoughts that were both foolish and improper on his part. It didn’t matter that her cream-colored dress did more than hint at the luscious curves of a woman. To him she could be nothing more than the king’s young daughter. A king who, it appeared, was most likely dead.

“I’m sorry, Dominique. I can’t give you hope when there seems to be none.”

Her head dropped, then swung from side to side in disbelief. The sudden urge to pull her into his arms and comfort her shocked Marcus. Although he didn’t know why his feelings should be a surprise to him. Where Dominique was concerned, he’d always harbored a protective streak. Six years ago, when he’d joined the king’s administrative staff, she’d been a shy, gangly fifteen-year-old. Uncertain of her place in the royal family and at the same time hungry for reassurance and affection. His own rough childhood had helped to create an affinity for the young princess. One that obviously hadn’t dissolved, in spite of the past years she’d been away.

“What about LeAnn’s christening?” she murmured. “Are they still going through with the ceremony?”

“No,” he answered, his thoughts softening his voice. “The accident has taken precedence now. Your family is making preparations to return to the castle.”

Her head came up swiftly. “Oh. Then I must get back inside.”

With her free hand she pressed the kerchief against both cheeks, then snapped the dainty cloth away in the small gold velvet bag hanging from her shoulder.

Marcus released her hand, then cupped his palm around her bent elbow. As he guided her through a back entry of the cathedral, he wished above anything that she didn’t have to face the sorrow of her father’s accident. He wished it was in his power to shield her now and always from life’s harsh realities.

But he was just a man. A commoner, despite his lofty position as the king’s high counsel. She deserved and needed more than he could ever give her and he suspected she’d learned that while she’d been away, growing into a woman.

Three days later Dominique was still struggling to shake the notion that her father’s horrific accident was all just a nightmare. Each morning she expected to wake and join her family in the dining hall for breakfast. Somehow she knew she would find King Michael seated at the head of the long table, a cup of tea in one hand, a newspaper in the other. But each morning she’d discovered the dining hall empty, her mother choosing to breakfast in privacy, while her brother, Nicholas, was already at work, trying to deal with the upheaval their father’s disappearance had caused with the media and the political world.

This morning Dominique had chosen to breakfast on the balcony off her bedroom. If she were going to eat alone, at least she could do it in total solitude without a bevy of servants hovering over her.

Being away at university had spoiled her, she supposed. While living on campus and attending classes, she’d not been smothered by a royal entourage to carry out even her smallest bidding. Over time, she’d grown to love the freedom, the feeling that basically she was no different than any other young woman working toward a degree. Even if she was Princess Dominique Stanbury of Edenbourg.

The slight sound of a footstep on flagstone alerted her that she was no longer alone. Glancing up from a plate of fruit, she saw that Prudence, her lady-in-waiting, had joined her on the balcony.

Only two years older than herself, Prudence had been with Dominique since their early childhood. When the time had come for Dominique to go to college, Prudence had begged to go along with her princess, but the king and queen had separated the two, believing it would help their daughter develop more independence. Now that Dominique was back, Prudence was delighted and had practically been smothering her with attention.