The Princess's New Year Wedding

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 wedlock, 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.”

Stefano sat back. “I am guessing from that comment you received the message I sent you when we got engaged. But in all our emails, you never mentioned it.”

She continued waving. “I’m sorry that I didn’t. If you want to know the truth, it was like a breath of fresh air.”

One dark brow lifted. “Why do you say that?”

“You indicated that there are ways to negotiate our situation. It gave me hope that you have something brilliant in mind. Alberto said you were born with the real brains in the family.”

So saying, she turned to the windows on the other side of the carriage. For the next little while she fulfilled her part in acknowledging the crowds cheering and taking pictures.

They weren’t really going to have a chance to talk properly today; that would have to wait till they left to go on their honeymoon. That time couldn’t come soon enough for Stefano. He didn’t want their marriage to start off with this kind of tension.

“Uh-oh!” she exclaimed. “Don’t stop waving, Signor Casale. Alberto told me that’s the name you go by at your many gold mines throughout the world. Time’s not up yet. We only have to endure this display for the masses for a few more minutes.”

The woman who’d sent him enchanting emails he’d thoroughly enjoyed was not in evidence right now. Soon the carriage arrived back at the fifteenth-century palace. She faced him with a smile. “All we must do now is endure this endless day a little longer.”

The footman opened the door of the carriage, but Stefano got out first to help her. No matter her true feelings, whatever they were, he was determined to behave in every way like an adoring bridegroom, even arranging her veil and train. With her flowers in one hand, he grasped her other hand and they ascended the steps past the palace staff who’d assembled to welcome them.

He walked her through the rotunda where their families awaited them. After many hugs, she turned to him. “I’m going down the hall to freshen up, but I’ll be back.”

“Would you like me to go with you?”

“Thank you, but I won’t be long.”

“Then I’ll wait right here for you.”

“You don’t have to.”

His eyes searched hers. “Don’t you know I want to?”

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