Marrying the Rebel Prince
Page 24
Chapter Eighteen
‘You really should have chosen the gold coach and the six white horses.’
‘It’s about ten metres from here to the chapel. I can walk that far.’
‘Yeah, but a gold coach!’ Marie sighed dramatically.
‘You don’t need a gold coach,’ Lauren’s mother said. ‘I’ve always thought you were a princess. And that’s certainly what you look like today.’
‘Oh, Mum.’ Lauren pretended to scoff, but deep down, her heart was beating furiously. Today her life was going to change forever. No. That wasn’t right. Her life had changed forever the day she’d walked nervously down that hallway behind Courtauld, her inappropriate high heels tapping on the cold marble.
She looked in the mirror one last time. She could hardly believe the woman looking back was really her.
After the engagement was announced, many designers had stepped forward, eager to enhance their reputations with a royal bridal commission. The offerings had ranged from the outlandish to the downright cupcake. In the end, Lauren commissioned Maria’s designer friend from whom she’d borrowed that Cinderella gown on the night she had been kissed by her handsome prince for the first time. It had proved a wise choice.
Lauren’s wedding gown was surprisingly traditional – a simple satin and lace gown with beaded bodice and a thin diamanté belt. It wasn’t a cupcake dress – that wasn’t her style – but there was enough tulle to satisfy any feminine heart. The veil was edged with lace and was held in place by an actual tiara, her ‘something borrowed’, suggested by her soon to be mother-in-law, Queen Charlotte. She guessed the diamonds and pearls were real, but she didn’t like to think too much about that. She was nervous enough without thinking that she was wearing a small fortune in her hair. On her right hand, Sophia’s ring fulfilled the need for something old. She would move it back to her left hand after the ceremony.
As for her something blue …
Maria had spent many hours fussing over colour and style. Lauren’s hair was now a gentle golden brown with blonde highlights that closely resembled her natural colour … with one very important exception.
‘You look beautiful, honey, I am so proud of you.’ Her mother was close to tears as she carefully hugged her daughter. ‘I’m just so sorry that …’
‘What, Mum?’
‘Well, every girl dreams of walking down the aisle with her father. You won’t have that.’
‘I don’t want that, Mum. I certainly don’t need it. You are all the family I have ever needed. I am perfectly capable of walking down the aisle by myself, because I know that Nick will be waiting for me at the other end.’
A discreet knock on the door told Lauren it was time. The door opened and Courtauld stood on the threshold.
‘I will escort you to the chapel now, if you’re ready.’
‘Why, Mr Courtauld, you look very handsome.’
‘Thank you, Miss Phelps.’
Lauren quickly stepped forward. She raised herself on the tip of her toes and gently kissed Courtauld on the cheek. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
‘You are most welcome.’ The courtier’s mask dropped for just a moment as he smiled. Then he drew himself up to his full height and offered Lauren’s mother his arm. She was almost blushing as he led her from the room.
‘Well, Lauren, are you ready?’ Maria was looking beautiful but unusually subdued in her pale blush organza bridesmaid’s dress.
‘Yes. I am.’
She had never been more ready for anything in her life than she was to become Nick’s wife.
Maria reached up to lower Lauren’s veil and as she did, she winked. Lauren giggled, but just a little. Of all the wedding party she was probably the least nervous.
‘Let’s go.’ Maria led the way to the door, which stood open waiting for them.
They followed Courtauld as he escorted Lauren’s mother to a set of ornate doors that opened as if by magic.
Sunlight poured through the doorway, bringing with it a wave of cheering.
For a few seconds, Lauren lost sight of her mother as she and Courtauld stepped through the door into the sunlight.
Maria squeezed Lauren’s hand.
‘I am so happy for you, Lauren.’
‘Me too.’ They both laughed, then Maria took two steps forward through the open door. Another loud cheer greeted her.
Lauren had been told to count to ten before following her bridesmaid, but she didn’t bother. She just took a deep breath and stepped forward into the sunlight.
She was greeted by a chorus of voices from the people crowded into the palace courtyard. Although this was, by royal standards, a quiet family wedding, more than five hundred people filled the palace courtyard, cheering and waving at her.
Despite her rocky start, Lauren had quickly become a public favourite, and it was at her insistence that a lottery had given away public places in this private ceremony. She was sharing her day with people from all walks of life. Old and young, wealthy and poor – the courtyard was filled with well-wishers. Lauren was touched by their joy as she stepped onto the red carpet that led across the courtyard to the chapel stairs.
The red carpet was flanked by uniformed men from Nick’s regiment who stood unblinking as she made her way between them. The beautiful carved stone walls of the palace soared above her, glowing faintly gold in the late afternoon sunlight and she remembered the small girl who had once looked up at those golden walls and dreamed of her Prince Charming. She had never believed that sometimes dreams do come true.
Pastor Josef smiled as she approached. He was, unusually for him, wearing the robes of his office.
‘You look lovely,’ he said as she stopped in front of him.
‘And you look nervous.’
‘I’ve never conducted a service in front of royalty before. Not to mention the TV cameras.’
Lauren was happier than she could say that Josef was conducting the service. She hadn’t asked him, for fear it might be a little cruel, given his feelings. But to her great surprise, he’d asked her instead. She’d gratefully accepted, but still wasn’t sure what might have prompted him to do that.
‘Don’t worry about the cameras and the press,’ she told him. ‘I don’t any more. Remember, you’re my friend – and a far nicer man than the Archbishop. I am so pleased you are here today.’
He smiled. ‘I’m so happy for you – for the two of you. Shall we go?’
Lauren nodded.
Somewhere a military band started playing as Josef turned and began the procession into the chapel.
As Lauren stepped through the stone arch, she saw a sea of faces in front of her. Many were strangers to her and that was all right. She had come to understand that her role as a member of the royal family must always involve tradition and protocol. The important faces were also there.
Mr and Mrs Haussmann beamed at her from their place near the front of the chapel. Mr Haussmann looked very dashing in a dress suit from a bygone era and his wife was still beautiful in her antique beaded gown, despite the lines on her face. They were holding hands, and Lauren thought she glimpsed a tear or two on Mrs Haussmann’s cheek.
Nearby, Else and her daughter stood quietly. Else’s eyes flicked from Lauren to Josef, and her face glowed. Lauren began to understand why Josef was willing to perform this service. Else was now acting as a house mother at a shelter for battered women, growing into her role with support – and perhaps something more, from Josef. Her little girl had lost the pale, frightened look, and was applauding gaily as Lauren walked towards the altar.
Just below the altar, at the transept, a row of chairs had been set out for key dignitaries. Her own mother was there, standing next to Queen Charlotte. The two women had met several times and were rapidly becoming friends. Queen Charlotte was now fully recovered from her injuries, but was slowly stepping away from her ceremonial role, to make way for Prince Edouard. Courtauld, as always, was at the Queen’s right hand. He smiled and nodded when his eyes
met Lauren’s.
Then Lauren lifted her eyes to the two men standing by the altar. Edouard too had recovered from his injuries, and had promised her that he would have his younger brother at the church on time. A promise that had required no effort at all to keep.
Nick slowly turned to look at her, and everything else around her faded into nothingness. All she could see was the love shining from his face and the glint of a tear in his eye as he watched her walk down the aisle towards him.
The wedding was perfect. Each moment, every word and note of music had been practised and rehearsed as befits a royal wedding. There could be no surprises … except one.
When a new ring of plain gold was safely on Lauren’s finger and their promises made, Nicolas slowly lifted the veil from her face. His lips curved into a smile as he saw, beneath the lace and diamonds, amid the shining gold of her hair, a single curl of bright blue.
Letter from the Author
I spend my days making up stories in my head. Turning those stories into actual books is something I could never do alone. I am surrounded by wonderful people who help me every step of the way.
Thank you, Rachel, for all your advice – particularly about the artist’s studio.
Thanks also go to my long time writing buddy Jean Fullerton, who is always there when I need her.
The Romantic Novelists Association has done more than provide me with professional advice, in its ranks I have made some of my best friends. Writers of the naughty kitchen, this means you. I love you all and knowing you are there every day helps keep me sane… or at least as close to sane as any writer gets.
Thank you to my agent and fellow cat-lover Julia Silk. How did I ever manage all this without you?
Many thanks also go to my editor Clio Cornish and the fabulous team at HQ. You are a joy to work with.
My handsome prince didn’t ride up on a white horse; he was carrying a book and a guitar. John, you are my best friend and greatest supporter and I love you lots.
And finally – thank you, Dear Reader, for picking up this book. I hope you enjoyed it.
If you enjoyed Marrying the Rebel Prince, then why not try another feel-good romance from HQ Digital?
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