Winning the Queen's Heart: Contemporary Christian Romance (The Brides of Belles Montagnes Book 2) (10 page)

Her husband wore no shirt.

After three swallows, she attempted to speak. “Yes?”

“I am ready to turn in. We haven’t talked about the sleeping arrangements now that we’re staying at hotels, but I don’t see how we could get a separate room without drawing undo attention to ourselves and our relationship. However, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Our options are for both of us to sleep in the fairly large bed, or I can sleep on the couch.”

Christiana glanced at the couch to her right. She had sat down on it when they first arrived. She would not wish for anyone to be forced to sleep on it. Ever.

“We are both adults. We can share.” She turned back to the work at hand, not wanting to give the conversation more time to turn awkward. “Besides, we are married. It is hardly inappropriate.”

“Hardly so, but are you truly all right with that?”

“Given the comfort one is likely to find on that couch, I have little alternative but to be all right with it. I fully expected this to be the situation. If you are ready to retire for the evening, do not wait up for me. I have a bit more work to do before I can turn in.” The goodwill tour was going well, very well if the press coverage was to be believed. Spending most of her days in parades in each of the towns they visited or ribbon cuttings at grocery stores or spending time with children at a hospital meant she had little time for the rest of her work until after retiring to the yacht or now the hotel for the evening.

“Very well. Please don’t stay up too late, ma’am. You need your rest and you have not been sleeping well.”

How could he presume to know that? He would surely figure it out now that they shared a bed, but up until now?

“You look tired.” He answered her unspoken questions. “I doubt anyone else notices, but I do.”

Of course he did.

She heard his footsteps travel into the bedroom and then came the sound of sheets rustling as he settled in. As quickly as she could, because he did have a point, Christiana finished signing the checks. Already wearing her pajamas, she went into the bedroom, not surprised to find him asleep. Tiptoeing to the other side of the bed, she slid under the covers taking great care not to disturb him. She breathed a sigh of relief as she appeared to be successful. She would do her best to sleep well.

But the sound of Alexander’s even breathing, so close and yet so far away, did more to keep her awake than even the largest cup of coffee would have.

When would she feel comfortable enough to let her guard down?

And if never, what would that mean for her future?

Feeling very lonely, despite not being alone, Christiana closed her eyes and prayed for sleep.

* * *

Alexander didn’t move a muscle when the other side of the bed dipped slightly under the queen’s slight frame. He could tell she had a difficult time getting comfortable, and over half an hour passed before he could sense her relax and finally fall asleep. With that, he rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

Having her so close, and still so far, was a cruel kind of torture. He thought he’d felt something shift for the better when they danced, but something changed over dinner. Perhaps his comments about having a family caused her to draw away. Until a few minutes earlier, he had not seen her in private since. She met him at the gangplank. They went about their day. Happy, smiling faces put on for the crowds. They returned to the yacht and she went straight to her room, having a tray delivered for dinner.

This day had started out the same as every day the week before, but instead of returning to the yacht, they stayed at the premiere hotel in the capital city of Pagosa. Though the palace was less than two miles away, this represented the first part of the land based portion of the tour. As such, the decision had been made - long before it was known he would be her companion - to stay at a hotel.

Perhaps it was because
he
had planned to be renovating the monarch’s apartments in the palace after her death?

Alexander didn’t like to think about the woman lying beside him succumbing to the evil plot of the man she was to have married. Instead, he decided to focus on praying for her. Repeatedly in the Bible, husbands were instructed to love their wives, to care for them, to pray for them. He couldn’t love her like he wanted to, and he didn’t think she’d let him take care of her. Besides, she had “people” for that. She didn’t need him.

But he could pray.

No one would pray for her like he could.

With his eyes closed, he decided it was time to boldly approach the throne of grace, to ask the Creator for favor, for Him to work in both of their hearts and lives until they were the people God intended for them to be.

By the time he awoke, he could hear the shower running in the attached bathroom. Alexander yawned and stretched before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The water stopped as he headed for the sitting area.

“Good morning, sir.” Justin shot a half-grin at him. “Sleep well?”

His assistant knew he hadn’t been sleeping in the same room as his wife. “Fine. Why are you here?” At least when they returned to the palace they could lock people out of the apartment instead of having assorted assistants waiting when they woke up.

“I wanted to give you an update on the project.” Justin held out a tablet.

Alexander swiped the screen with his finger, looking over the details for several minutes. “It looks good. Think we can pull it off?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” He handed the tablet back over. “We have an hour before breakfast?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thanks for your help.” Knowing they were done for the moment, Justin turned and left. The door to the bedroom opened and the queen walked into the sitting area. Her hair hung around her shoulders, still damp, though she wore a nice shirt and slacks.

One of these days he’d get her to wear a pair of ratty jeans and an old t-shirt. Maybe one of his, and a baseball hat with her ponytail tugged through it.

Somehow he doubted it’d ever happen.

But a guy could dream.

* * *

“Why are we here again?” Yvette had a whine to her voice.

Lizbeth stifled a sigh. “We’re here because Princess Anastasia is sick, no one else from their family can be here, but they wanted a contingent from Belles Montagnes. Then we’re going to Bianisola to work on wedding plans.”

The orphanage in Ravenz-by-the-Sea had been rebuilt along with most of the rest of the town after the flooding during a medicane the year before. Now, they were having a celebration. As bad as it was, it could have been so much worse. Dr. Jonah Fontaine, now a duke with his marriage to Princess Anastasia, was there along with their adopted daughter, Stacy, who had survived the medicane with them the year before.

Officially, they were gathering supplies to take to an orphanage in Africa, one Dr. Jonah had been to many times. In reality, Lizbeth was glad for the excuse to spend the previous night with Robert. At the moment, she had no idea when her next chance to spend that much time alone with him would be.

They spent two hours working with Dr. Jonah and others before returning to the hotel to get ready for the trip to Bianisola.

Alexander was waiting for them in his office when they arrived.

“Thank you for taking time to see us, sir.” Lizbeth shook his hand before they all sat down.

“Of course. Today is basically an off day for us. One stop this morning at breakfast, one at dinner, and nothing in between. I’m happy to stop by and go over what you’ve decided. We can talk more about the timeline and what decisions need to be made by when. I know you’ve known the date of the wedding for a long time, but, Princess Yvette, you’ve just started wrapping your mind around the idea that you actually have to plan this thing. So why don’t we start with what you’ve done since I saw you a few weeks ago?”

Yvette just sort of sat there while Lizbeth went over the few things they had already decided. Not much. Lizbeth had vetoed several of the choices with just a glare. She was
not
going to let Yvette even pretend to plan for a black wedding dress and veil. The decisions that had been - things like time of day, preliminary VIP guest list, songs to be played during the wedding - had been done with the help of the palace protocol officer. All of those were dictated by tradition. As much as Yvette wanted to break some of the royal molds, she wouldn’t be able to. Not with this anyway.

Alexander nodded as Lizbeth finished. “Good.” He gave Yvette what could only be described as a “dad look.” The prince did it well. “You need to find a dress. Soon. Despite your status, it’s not something that can be whipped out at the last minute. Queen Christiana had a last minute change in her dress, and it added years to the lives of everyone involved, even though we all knew the decision was for the best.”

Yvette had perked up at that. “What? That wasn’t the dress she planned to wear all along? It was gorgeous.”

He shook his head but refused to elaborate, instead he went over the next few steps they would need to complete by the end of the year for the June wedding date.

“I don’t even have a ring,” Yvette groused. “If I’m engaged shouldn’t I at least have a ring?”

“The queen didn’t have one until the wedding,” Lizbeth pointed out. “There are lots of good reasons why people don’t sometimes.”

“Most of them don’t have a dead fiancé,” she muttered. Then louder, “Why didn’t you give Christiana one sooner?”

The prince consort hesitated for a split second before answering. “I wanted to use her mother’s ring, and I couldn’t get a hold of it until right before the wedding.”

Made sense. Half an hour later, they all stood at the door, ready to leave. They started to walk out, but Yvette turned. “I love what you’re doing for her, Alexander. I’m a lot younger than Christiana, but I remember when she’d stay with us sometimes, and how sad she’d be at Christmas and stuff. She’ll love it.”

Alexander shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “Please don’t say anything to her. It’s a surprise, and so far we’ve managed to keep it from her.”

Yvette nodded then shocked both of them by throwing herself at the prince consort. He caught her in a hug. “Take good care of her,” Yvette whispered. “This wedding thing is going to be harder for her than me. I’m glad she has you.”

As quickly as she’d started the hug, Yvette let go and nearly ran out toward the tarmac nearby. Lizbeth smiled as she watched the girl. That was the Yvette she was getting to know. The one who cared more about others than herself. The one who would get her heart broken when the wedding didn’t happen, even if she’d never admit it. The romance of the long lost prince returning just in time for the wedding couldn’t be denied.

“This is going to be tough for both of them,” he said.

Lizbeth looked up to see Alexander watching Yvette’s retreat as well. “Then we’ll have to make sure they’re not alone during it.”

Alexander nodded, and Lizbeth moved to leave, but his hand on her arm stopped her. “She has to take this seriously, Lizbeth. Don’t let her blow it off or be half-heartedly involved. She’ll regret it, and so will everyone else.”

She nodded, but before she said anything a throat cleared on the other side of the room. Alexander released her. “Let me know if I can help in anyway. Have a safe trip home.” He turned to leave.

Lizbeth watched him go. Something more was going on here. But what?

Chapter 11

Seventeenth Anniversary

Today is a day that needs no reminder. It is the day King Richard, Queen Marissa, Prince Nicklaus, and their nanny died in a tragic car accident, making five-year-old Princess Christiana the youngest monarch in Ravenzario's history. For the next fifteen years, the country was run in her stead by the brother of Queen Marissa. Approximately eighteen months ago, Henry Eit’s plot to overthrow the queen came to light. Though the specter of her uncle no longer surrounds Queen Christiana, the seventeenth anniversary is likely to be a difficult one for the monarch.

The queen and duke are scheduled to lay flowers at the marker where the car disappeared over the edge of a cliff. Tonight is the reception discussed online for the last several weeks. For more information, please see the news story from November 1. 2016.

It would be a difficult day no matter what was planned. She purposely avoided looking at her plans for December 23. Someone, she still did not know who, had juggled the schedule a bit so that the visit to Ariston would be the last one before returning to Pagosa and the palace on Christmas Eve. It was supposed to have been a few days earlier. The country was not so big that trading two towns would cause much disruption in travel plans.

After breakfast in the town where they had spent the night, they waved to the few people who gathered to see them off. But instead of getting into the back of the limo where they usually traveled, Alexander took her hand and led her to a little black roadster.

He held open the passenger side door, kissing her cheek as she slid into the seat. A minute later, they waved again to the few members of the press as they pulled out of the parking lot.