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