The Princess's New Year Wedding

“It’ll happen,” Enzo muttered. “I know how much you loved Alberto. You’ll never let your parents down now that you know of your brother’s sacrifice. As for Princess Lanza, she’ll agree to marry you. After all, you are Alberto’s brother and she knew you when your families got together as children.”

“That’s true, but I was hoping for some much-needed advice from you.”

They stared at each other for a long time. “All right—there’s only one way I can see this working. You need your freedom, so do her the biggest favor of her life and yours. You’ve got a year before the wedding. Let her know before you’re married that you plan to be your own person and continue doing the mining work you love while you help her father govern. It’ll mean you’ll be apart from her for long periods. Give her time to adjust to that fact, know what I mean?”

* * *

Pain wasn’t the right word to describe Lanza’s feelings since returning from the funeral in Umbriano four days ago. Shock would be more precise. Prince Alberto had always been kind to her when they had met. She’d never felt uncomfortable with him.

The second-born son of her father’s best friend, King Basilio of Umbriano, had been mild-mannered. Over the years and occasional family get-togethers, both families felt their two children were the perfect fit. Since they’d wanted the marriage to happen, they went ahead with the betrothal on her twenty-first birthday.

According to what her parents had told her, they’d believed that out of her two sisters, Lanza had the right temperament and disposition to be the wife for Prince Alberto, who’d shown an interest in her.

From that time on Lanza had spent several weekends a month with Alberto, both in Domodossola and Umbriano. They’d developed a friendship that helped her to get ready for her marriage. She’d enjoyed being kissed by him, but they hadn’t been lovers.

The fact that he was nice-looking had made it easier to imagine intimacy in their marriage. She’d liked him well enough and believed they could be happy. But now that he was gone, one truth stood out from everything else.

She hadn’t lost the love of her life.

Furthermore, his death had made her aware of her own singlehood in a way she would never have anticipated. Since the betrothal she’d known what her future would be. For the past year she’d been planning on the intimacy of marriage and family, the kind her parents enjoyed. Yet in an instant, that future had died with him.

His life had been snuffed out in seconds because of a car crash on an icy, narrow mountain road when he’d swerved to avoid a truck. The accident had robbed her of the destiny planned out for her. But as sorry as she was for Alberto and his family, a part of her realized that she was now free to make different plans.

There was no law of succession in Domodossola since a female couldn’t rule. Now her parents would have to look elsewhere for a prince who would marry one of her older sisters, either Fausta or Donetta.

The sad, legitimate release of her betrothal vows gave Lanza a sense of liberation she’d never known before. Heaven help her but the thought was exciting. So exciting, in fact, she was assailed with uncomfortable guilt considering this was a time of mourning, and she did mourn Alberto’s death.

In an attempt to help her deal with the fact that Prince Alberto had been taken prematurely, the palace priest, Father Mario, had been summoned. He counseled her that she should be grateful Alberto hadn’t been forced to live through years of suffering. If his life had been spared, he might have lost limbs or been paralyzed.

Of course she was thankful for that and appreciated the priest’s coming to see her, but no one understood what was going on inside her. No longer would she be marking time, waiting for her future with Alberto to start. There was no future except the one she would make from here on out. In truth, Lanza found the thought rich with possibilities.

Since returning from the funeral, it hit her with stunning force that she was alone and dependent on herself to make her own decisions, just like her sisters had been allowed to do. This strange new experience wasn’t unlike watching a balloon that had escaped a string and was left to float with no direction in mind. But she knew what she wanted to do first.

With this new sense of freedom, she planned to visit her favorite aunt, Zia Ottavia, who lived in Rome with her husband, Count Verrini. They could talk about anything and Lanza loved her.

A knock on the door of her apartment brought her back from her thoughts.

“Lanza?” Her mother’s voice. “May your father and I come in?”

She assumed they wanted to comfort her and she loved them for it. Lanza hurried across the room and opened the door, giving them both a long hug. “Come in and sit in front of the fire.”

They took their places on the couch. She sat in her favorite easy chair across from them where she often planted herself to read. She’d been a bookworm from an early age.

“We asked Father Mario to visit you. Did he come?”

“Yes, and he gave me encouragement.”

“Oh, good,” her dark-blonde mother murmured, but Lanza could tell her parents were more anxious than ever and looked positively ill from the shock they’d all lived through. “We don’t think it’s good for you to stay in your apartment any longer. I’ve asked the cook to prepare your favorite meal, and your sisters are going to join us in the dining room for an early dinner.”

Her distinguished-looking father nodded. “You need to be around family. It isn’t healthy for you to be alone.”

“Actually, I’ve needed this time to myself in order to think. Please don’t be offended if I tell you I’m not hungry and couldn’t eat a big meal.”

“But if you keep this up, you’ll waste away,” her mother protested.

“No, Mamà. I promise that won’t happen. Right now I have important things on my mind.”

“We do, too,” her father broke in. “It’s time we talked seriously.”

She sat back. “What is it, Papà?”

He got to his feet and stoked the fire. “I’ve been on the phone with Basilio almost constantly for days.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure Alberto’s death has brought you two even closer. He and Queen Diania must be in desperate need of comfort.”

Her father blinked. “You’re really not all right, are you, my dear girl?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You…don’t seem quite yourself,” her mother blurted.

If Lanza’s parents had expected her to fall apart and take to her bed, then they truly didn’t understand.

“I’ve shed my tears, but all it has done is give me a headache. I have to pull myself together and deal with the here and now. Honestly, I’ll be fine. In fact, I’m thinking of taking a trip to Rome to visit Zia Ottavia.

“She phoned me last night and asked me to stay with her for a few months. She’s planning to take a long trip to the US and wants me to go with her while Zio Salvatore has to stay in Rome on business. I love being with her and told her I’d come after I talked to you.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid you can’t go.”

What? She sat forward. “I don’t understand.”

He cleared his throat. “Alberto’s brother, Stefano, has asked for your hand in marriage and wishes to marry you on New Year’s Day in a year as planned.”

CHAPTER TWO

A STRANGE LAUGH broke from Lanza, who got to her feet. Maybe she was having a bad dream.

“Stefano? What kind of a joke is this? For one thing, that’s impossible! He was relieved of his royal duties years ago by their parliament.”

Lanza had taken a personal affront to the news at the time, even though she knew it didn’t have anything to do with her. How could it? She’d only been eleven years old.

But she still remembered how shocked she’d been when she’d heard Stefano had walked away from royal life. She’d always found him more attractive and headstrong than Alberto, but she’d never told anyone her true feelings.

Her father shook his head. “His royal title has just been restored to him through an emergency act of that same parliament. Now he has officially proposed marriage to you.”

Lanza let out a cry, incredulous that Stefano wanted to marry her when he’d hardly noticed her growing up. “Is it so important that our two countries combine our money and resources to the point that Stefano has been sent in to salvage the situation? He’s the brother who wanted nothing to do with royal life!”

She knew she’d shocked her parents with an outburst that was totally unlike her. Never in her life had she dared speak her mind to them like this. But she felt frustrated and angry.

Her mother stood up and walked over to her. “We can understand your anger, darling, but please just listen. These have been dark days for all of us, but it’s true that Stefano wants to take his brother’s place and honor his commitment to you. It’s what both our families want.”

“But it’s not what I want and I’m over twenty-one!” Lanza stared at her parents in sheer disbelief. What they were asking went beyond rational thought. “You do know Stefano gave up the royal life years ago because he hated it.”

“That’s in the past,” her father murmured.

“Papà—he’s a gold-mining engineer and, according to Alberto, has had various love affairs with women where he’s lived around the world. You’re asking me to marry him? Are you serious?” she cried out.

Her mother’s eyes implored her. “We’re asking you to think about it and what it will mean for our two countries, for the future of both royal lines.”

“I’m getting older every day,” her father murmured. “Worse, I’m plagued by a fatigue that is growing more serious. I need a son-in-law to lean on who is fit to be king. Prince Stefano was raised like his brother, Alberto, and will make a splendid husband for you.”

“But he’s been a playboy!”

“No,” her father argued. “What he has done in his nonroyal past is what most men do before they find the right woman. There’s been no scandal about him in the media. He’s brought no shame of any kind. Quite the opposite. His brilliant business acumen is known around the world and has helped enrich his country. He’s Basilio’s son, after all.”

“But Father—”

“Hear me out, Lanza. His private life before now has no bearing on the future. That part is over.”

“How do you know he doesn’t have children somewhere? I’m not trying to be cruel by saying that, only practical.”

His expression hardened. “I’m going to forget you said that. He’s prepared to be a husband to you.”

Lanza was too stunned to talk. She studied her father, worried if it was true that he was ill. This was news no one had told her about. “Why haven’t I heard about your health before now, Papà?” She’d noticed he moved a little slower these days, but she attributed it to his growing older.

Her mother put a hand on her arm. “Because we didn’t want to burden you while you were preparing for your wedding day. We were assuming you wouldn’t have to worry about it, but with Alberto dying, everything has changed. Under the circumstances we’ll leave to give you time to think about everything.” She turned to Lanza’s father. “Come on, Victor.”

As Lanza watched them go, her two older sisters came in and shut the door. She sucked in her breath. “I take it you could hear us talking.”

They nodded.

“Is it true? Is Papà ill?”

“I only know what Mamà said.” Donetta spoke first. “Papà’s physician is concerned about his health and says he needs to slow down.”

Fausta nodded. “I have a feeling it’s his heart, but they won’t tell us.”

Lanza shivered and walked over to the fireplace. “Why didn’t you two tell me?”

Donetta drew closer. “We were ordered not to.”

“In other words, I’m the baby who can’t handle bad news.”

“No. They’ve been living for your wedding and didn’t want anything to mar it.”

She closed her eyes tightly. “What they’ve asked me now is impossible, but I shouldn’t have gotten so upset with them.”

“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 streets 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.