“Your Majesty?” He stopped her before she went into her suite.
She sighed. “We are alone, Alexander. You are my husband.”
“Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner?”
She hesitated.
“Please?” She wanted him to call her something less formal, but wasn’t sure about joining him for dinner?
“Of course.” She gave him a tentative smile and closed the door behind her.
Alexander went to the galley to see what he could find. The cook, Paul, was in there working on dinner for the crew.
“Can I help you, sir?” Paul looked up from carrots he chopped on a cutting board.
“I’d like to have a romantic dinner with the queen tonight. Candles on deck, good china, the whole nine yards.”
Paul’s face lit up. “Of course. What do you have in mind?”
Alexander shrugged. “I’m open to suggestions. I know it’s too late for you to shop. What do you have?” They spent ten minutes going over dinner options before they settled on an entrée, side dishes, and dessert that could be prepared in the next hour. Alexander offered to help, but Paul sent him away. A steward would take care of the table setting.
Instead, Alexander knocked on Christiana’s door.
“Yes?”
“May I come in?”
The door opened. She had changed into something much more comfortable than she’d worn earlier in the day. Yoga pants with a rugby shirt from one of the country’s universities and the Rensselaer family name on the back. “Is it time for dinner?”
Alexander shook his head. “No. Not yet. We have about an hour before it’s ready. I did want to see if you wanted to dress up for dinner or dress down?”
He could see her turning it over in her head. “Would you mind if we dressed down? I am quite comfortable and would prefer not to get dressed up again.”
“That’s fine with me.” With one finger, he touched the side of her face. “You always look beautiful.”
A blush spread across her cheeks as she ducked her head. “Thank you. The girl I spoke with at the gymnasium told me she believed you were very cute.”
He could feel the twinkle in his eyes as he leaned closer. “And you, Queen Christiana? Do you think I’m cute?”
Her face reddened further. “Yes.”
“I’m glad.” He turned, whistling as he walked away. “I’ll see you in an hour.” Despite her desire to dress down, he would wear one of several tuxedos he had with him. He wanted to woo her. He wanted to go all out and sweep her off her feet.
Nearly an hour later, he tweaked his bowtie as he waited for her to join him on the upper deck of the yacht. When her head came into view, he heard her gasp. The white twinkling lights provided the sole lighting, save the moon and two flickering candles on the table.
“Has the ship stopped?” she asked as she turned.
“Not completely, but we have slowed down so we could enjoy our meal by candlelight while not worrying about the candles blowing out.”
“What did Paul make us for dinner?”
Alexander grinned. “That, my dear, is a surprise.” He bowed to her with one hand outstretched. “May I have this dance?”
“There is no music.”
As though on cue, soft jazz filled the air. “May I?”
Christiana put her hand in his. “Of course.”
He pulled her to him, far closer than the other night. There was no one watching. No one but the two of them.
“I did not think we were going to dress up.” The white lights behind him reflected in her eyes.
“I wanted you to be comfortable.” He shrugged. “But I wanted to have a romantic, very nice, candlelit dinner with my wife. To me that means tux.”
He pulled her a bit closer, loving the feel of her close to him.
They moved slowly around the deck. “Were you okay with the interview today? I’m sure you weren’t ready for some of those questions.”
“No. I was not. But I knew they would be coming sooner or later. I avoided planning my answers and hoped they would not, but they always do.”
“I know I told you the other day, but I am so glad you asked Poppo and the others to participate.” After the interview, thoughts that had been trying to coalesce in his mind since the wedding came closer to taking shape. The question became, could he pull off the idea without her knowing about it? And in the next eight weeks. Before the anniversary of her parents’ death.
“I think I know why the interview was scheduled for today.” She moved even closer to him, resting her cheek on his chest.
“Why is that?” He tucked her hand close and hoped her answer wasn’t the same one he’d come up with.
“I was to be dead by now. It would have been his first interview as the bereaved king. A few days after my death but quickly enough it would help him establish legitimacy. It just furthers the idea that he did not know the specifics of Nicklaus’s marriage contract or the Commonwealth’s pact.”
Alexander didn’t know what to say so he just kept dancing.
“You had come to the same conclusion, had you not?”
“Yes, ma’am, we had. Or I had. I never discussed it with anyone else.”
He sensed she wanted to say something about his continued formality in the way he addressed her, but she didn’t. It made no sense to him why he kept on being formal with her, not coming up with a nickname or pet name for her. It seemed wrong somehow. Not when they weren’t yet growing closer as people in a relationship for life. With his cheek against her hair, they danced for several more minutes. “Are you ready to eat?”
She nodded. He had every intention of dancing with her again before the end of the night. Alexander held her chair, before lifting the silver dome off the platters and setting them to the side.
“Do you mind if I pray over the meal?” They hadn’t eaten together much. Most of the crew of the yacht didn’t know much about either the situation or what life was like for them on board. She and Alexander were left alone.
“Please go ahead.”
He held her hand as they bowed their heads. A few brief words of thanks, and they began to eat.
Chapter 10
“Tell me your favorite part of today?” Alexander asked her as she took a bite.
Christiana thought about that as she chewed then took a sip of her wine. “Talking with the girls at the school, I think. Or playing with the children at the orphanage. They have lost so much but are still so happy. I love that. What was your favorite?”
“Seeing you with those kids,” he answered without hesitation. “You were a natural.”
Her eyes widened. “Me? A natural with children? I have not been around them much. Not even when I was one.”
“Then you are a natural because they adored you, and it was clear you adored them.” He appeared to be considering something else to say. “In fact, based on what I saw today, I believe you will be a wonderful mother.”
She could not contain her incredulity. “You do? Me?”
Alexander nodded. “Do you want to know what I saw while I watched you with them?” Taking her rapid blinking as assent, he went on. “I saw us, in your apartment at the palace. You were rocking a toddler as you both looked out over the sea. I looked down and saw, in my arms, an infant. Two children, conceived together, borne of our commitment to each other. The continuation of your family line. A family of your own, something you’ve never had.”
His image blurred. “You saw me? As a mother?”
He covered her hand with his. “Yes.”
“You see us with children?” She knew, on some level, it was required of them. They were required by law, after all, to begin trying to conceive as soon as possible. But the actuality of it was quite foreign to her. She never imagined herself as a mother, holding a child.
He gave her a tender smile. “Yes. I do. Someday.” Alexander picked up her hand and gently kissed the back. “When the time is right, you’re going to be a wonderful mot
her.”
She did not say anything, but began to eat again.
The rest of the meal passed in near silence until Alexander asked her to dance again. Christiana shook her head. “No. I am quite tired. I believe I will turn in for the evening.” He stood and held her chair for her. He really did look quite dashing in his tuxedo. “Thank you for a lovely meal.” Before he could say or do anything, she turned and walked away. She waited until she was out of his site to pick up the pace and nearly run to her suite. The suite she should be sharing with the man she had just left. The man who was invoking feelings in her she did not know how to deal with. As they danced, she had wanted him to tip her chin up, to kiss her, to hold her even closer.
But at the same time, she was not ready to open herself up for the hurt that could come from allowing someone into her life.
She wanted it while at the same time actively repelling the very connection she longed for.
The restless night that followed was the last they would spend at sea. For the next three weeks they would tour Corsisnos followed by five weeks on Ichnusia. And those nights, she would be expected to sleep in the same room with her husband. Eight weeks until she could escape to separate quarters.
How could she handle being in the same room with the man so often, much less sharing the same bed, without her fragile heart being severely compromised?
The answer was she could not, but she would have no choice.
All too soon, their time on the yacht ended and they entered the first of many hotel rooms.
“Queen Christiana?”
She looked up from where she sat at the desk in the hotel room. For over an hour she had looked through information on charities and approved them followed by signing checks drawn up based on the approvals she had made last month. Alexander stood there, but not dressed as she had last seen him.
No.
He wore a pair of pajama bottoms emblazoned with the emblem of a sports team from the States. She was not familiar enough with them to venture a guess as to which sport, much less which team.
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.
Winning the Queen's Heart: Contemporary Christian Romance (The Brides of Belles Montagnes Book 2) Page 7