The Royal Wedding Collection

by Rachel Hauck

  “I love it, but babe, aren’t we already married?” Corina draped her legs over the arm of the chair and cuddled against Stephen.

  “I filed the annulment papers.”

  Corina reared back. “Y–you filed them? Then flew all the way here to propose?”

  “I’m serious. I want to do it proper this time round. I want to start over, have an engagement time with parties and press conferences. I want to marry you in a big fat royal wedding with you in a white gown every lass will want to model,” he fanned the feathers of her dress, “and me in my uniform—”

  “You’ll put on your uniform?”

  “Yes, I will. I want the families of the lads in the front row. I want my parents and yours in attendance, our friends and family. What we had before, Corina, got bruised and broken. We need to end that chapter of our lives and start over.” He swept his hand over her cheek. “But this I know, you are the only true love for me and if you give me another chance, I’ll fight every day to put our marriage first and make us the couple God meant us to be.”

  Tears were sometimes the only sufficient answer. Resting her head on his chest, Stephen held her close. So very, very close.

  There was no place more like home than in his arms.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Brighton Kingdom

  October 12

  Once again he found himself standing in the warm wings of the Madeline & Hyacinth Live! show. The still air created a sting of perspiration down his back. He adjusted his collar, then his shirtsleeves.

  But he never let go of her hand.

  “Are you all right?” Corina looked up at him with those amber eyes of hers that made his heart skip a beat.

  “Just a bit stuffy in this spot, don’t you think?” Stephen kissed her forehead, then glanced at Thomas, who shook his head, cocking a sly grin.

  Since his Florida proposal, Stephen felt swept off his feet, by God, by Corina, by the power of love and forgiveness.

  He’d arranged for Agnes and Baby Bird to receive Lt. Mitchell “Bird” O’Connell’s death benefits and set up an education fund for the five-year-old, as well as for the children of the other men who died that day.

  Even Asif’s.

  One weekend a month he ferried down to Hessenberg to spend a night and day with Archbishop Caldwell, learning what he should’ve learned in Sunday school catechism but had not.

  His heart nearly brimmed with the growing reality of a loving King as his Savior.

  When he’d injured his ankle on the pitch that spring day seven months ago, he’d have never believed what kind of life awaited him. He was unworthy. On his own. Jesus made him worthy and that was a sacrifice he could accept.

  Stephen pressed his hand to his chest, to the swirling rise of emotions.

  God, I praise you.

  In the past three months he’d made an open book of his life, confessing to the press about his secret marriage, annulment, and now re-engagement. If that was a word. How he’d gone dark after events in Afghanistan and how God had wooed his wounded heart to him through the love of Corina.

  At one time, Stephen clung to rugby and life on the pitch as his only salvation, afraid to wander away lest he crumble. What he counted as freedom was his prison.

  But now that he knew true salvation, and true freedom, his possibilities were endless. He was free to be Prince Stephen again. And since their engagement, he’d been sleeping like a baby. The night terrors had ended. Such a good, good God.

  The stage manager passed by. “Sixty seconds.”

  The show crew quickly changed the set from bright lights with tall director’s chairs to a living room aura with plush cream-colored love seats facing one another and a faux fireplace.

  Stephen squeezed Corina’s hand. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Madeline and Hyacinth took their positions, standing before the cameras as they came out of the commercial break.

  “Madeline, we’ve had some amazing shows this year,” Hyacinth said, starting things off. “But this afternoon we have probably one of the best shows we’ve ever done, or will do.”

  “I’m so excited about our next guests,” Madeline said, reading the cue card. “We surprised you with him before, so we’re surprising you with him again, along with his fabulous fiancée. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Prince of Brighton, Prince Stephen, and his fiancée, Corina Del Rey.”

  Stephen led Corina into the wall of applause, their strides together and even. The former beauty queen was perfect for him. The limelight neither frightened nor fascinated her.

  After a round of cordial hugs with the show’s hostesses, Stephen and Corina sat together on one couch, Madeline and Hyacinth on the other. As if friends sharing tea.

  “Let me start off by saying congratulations,” Madeline said. “We are so grateful to have you on the show.”

  “We’re pleased to be here,” Stephen said with a glance at Corina, who glowed.

  “We have a lot to talk about, but first things first. Corina, we’ve heard a lot about your Diamatia gown these past few months, but nothing on your wedding dress.” Hyacinth wrinkled her nose at the future princess. “Can you tell us anything? Just a hint.”

  Corina’s laugh was classic and musical. “I can tell you it’s being designed by Melinda House. I really love her work, and she’s been a big support to me during this season.”

  “Well, we cannot wait to see it.” Hyacinth smiled like Corina’s answer was enough, but Stephen knew she ached for more.

  “We hear estimates of five hundred million viewers around the world for the wedding,” Madeline said. “Corina, do you think of that at all?”

  “So far, I’m in the throes of planning a wedding like every other normal engaged woman.” She peeked at Stephen and he loved her confidence. “I’m not focused on the watching world.”

  Indeed, she was going to make a lovely royal.

  Madeline and Hyacinth prattled on with more wedding questions and observations, announcing again to the viewing audience that the big day would be held at Cathedral of David, October 19 at noon, with an afternoon reception at the palace and a private one that evening.

  “Why the Braithwaite for your private reception?”

  Corina fielded that one. “The Braithwaite has a history and meaning with us, so we wanted to go back to that place to celebrate where we are now and the start of our lives together.”

  Where it all began, it ended. Now it would begin again, new, fresh with a sense of holy approval.

  “Prince Stephen, the King’s Office informed us you have an announcement to make.” Madeline read from her cue cards.

  “I do,” he said, tightening his grip on Corina’s hand. “Even though my ankle is in the best shape it’s ever been in—”

  “Is it true you experienced some sort of miraculous healing?” Hyacinth did not hide her skepticism.

  “I did, and as a result a lot has changed in my life—”

  “Indeed, you were coronated as Prince of Brighton last month,” Madeline said. “What a lovely ceremony.”

  “And with the coronation, I became patron of the War Memorial. The memorial needs some attention, and there is much to be done for the families of our military men and women, so today I’m announcing my full retirement from professional rugby.”

  A tangible, forceful gasp rose from the audience.

  “This is such a sad day for Brighton rugby.” Hyacinth leaned toward Stephen, cue card in hand.

  “Corina, what do you say? Do you support this?” Madeline read from her cards. “You said in an interview last month that you first fell in love with the rugby player not the prince.”

  “I said I fell in love with him on the rugby pitch. I fell in love with the man. I had to accept the prince part that came with him.”

  The audience laughed with a soft sprinkle of applause.

  “Will you be starting a family soon?” Hyacinth said.

  “Tell you what, Madeline, you’ll be the first to
know when a baby’s born,” Corina said to the delight of the audience.

  Stephen tucked back his grin, but he could not be more proud of his soon-to-be wife. She was going to do fine in the circus that followed his family.

  “I’m sure the Eagles will miss you, Your Highness,” Hyacinth said. “Will you miss the sport? You’ve been quoted many times over the years saying rugby was your life.”

  “I love rugby and it’s been very good to me. I’m grateful to Coach and the lads on the team. I couldn’t have achieved what I did without them, but they’ve several wingers coming up who will far outshine me. And good for them.”

  They bantered about rugby and Stephen’s triumph in the Number 14 wing position until commercial.

  “Having a good time?” Stephen whispered to Corina.

  “Yes, because I’m with you.” Corina kissed him, the audience approving with a corporate sigh.

  The studio light came up as the show returned from the commercial break. “We’re back with our very special guests, Prince Stephen and his fiancée, Corina Del Rey,” Hyacinth said. “We are just so excited to have you both.”

  “Hy,” Madeline said, breaking in, “I just have to ask this.” She bounced in her seat. “Corina, Prince Stephen has been touted as one of the world’s most eligible bachelors, and certainly one of the most sought after. Though he was so focused on rugby he didn’t notice.”

  “I think I’m liking rugby more and more,” Corina said.

  “So you can imagine how floored we all were to hear you two were married. I’m sure the women in our audience are dying to know, how did you catch the prince?”

  Corina released his hand, sitting forward, clasping her hands at her knee. “I’m not really sure. We met in a postgrad class at Knoxton and—”

  “Can I answer the question?” Stephen sat forward. He was the only one who really knew how this incredible woman won his heart.

  “Please do,” Madeline said.

  Corina swiveled to face him. “Oh no, babe, what are you going to say?”

  “Babe? Is that your nickname for him?” Hyacinth loved the nitty-gritty.

  “One of them,” Stephen said with a wink.

  “Oh, I want to hear more about that in a minute,” Madeline said. “But just how did American Corina Del Rey catch the heart of our Prince of Brighton?”

  Stephen reached for Corina’s hand. “She loved me well. She loved me well.”

  THIRTY

  Cathedral City

  Cathedral of David

  October 19

  Under a crisp blue Brighton Kingdom sky, Corina held fast to her father’s hand as they rode in an open-air, gilded black-and-red carriage, drawn by four gleaming chestnut-colored horses and accompanied by ten footmen, through the city streets swarming with well-wishers.

  “The roar is so loud I can’t hear myself think,” Daddy said, laughing, his heart beating in his eyes.

  Corina drew on his strength and waved at the crowd, a nervous laugh in her chest. “Their rugby prince is getting married. And it’s a national holiday.”

  “Nervous?” Daddy squeezed her hand.

  “Worse than the Miss Georgia pageant when my shoe broke.” Corina leaned against him. “But I’m so excited.”

  “I’m proud of you, Kit.” He cleared the emotion from his voice. “Carlos would be proud but reminding Stephen he’s getting the greatest girl in the world and to treat her as such.”

  She exhaled. “I feel blessed to have him, Daddy. I never stopped loving him. Even in the dark days when I thought our marriage was annulled.”

  The carriage turned down the wide Rue du Roi, passing under the two-hundred-year-old royal oaks, ablaze with fall’s reddish orange.

  The Cathedral of David, where Stephen was coronated officially as Prince of Brighton a month ago, awaited them, watching the avenue with its spiral peaks.

  “Thank you for loving and accepting him, Daddy.” Stephen had properly asked Donald Del Rey to marry his daughter. And he’d asked forgiveness for his role in the death of their son.

  A deep healing began that day in the Del Reys. They weren’t the family they used to be, but they were on the journey to the family they would become.

  “What choice did I have, Kit? You loved him and Carlos gave his life for him. Plus, he’s the Prince of Brighton.” Daddy winked. “Your mother had breakfast with the Queen Mum. And her daughter is going to be a princess.” Daddy laughed. “She was born for this world. It’s like the mother ship has called her home.”

  “She and Queen Campbell have several friends in common.”

  “She’s healing, Corina. I’m healing.” Daddy’s voice choked up and he tapped the end of her nose, an affection that started when she was a baby. “You’ve brought us all healing and love again.”

  Love well.

  The carriage pulled up to the cathedral, the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves fading to a stop. At the red carpet, two footmen opened the carriage door.

  Corina descended the carriage steps, holding on to Daddy, pausing to wave at the crowd, taking the time to focus, see their faces. After all, they took time out of their busy lives to celebrate with her.

  At the nave entrance, matron of honor Daisy and bridesmaid Melissa waited with the royal wedding director, Tama.

  “Queen Campbell and Princess Susanna are seated, and your mother just went down the aisle.” Tama handed Corina her wedding bouquet with a small locket containing a picture of Carlos, laughing, resting among the lilies. “We’re ready for you in thirty seconds . . . as soon as the music changes.”

  “You look so beautiful,” Daisy said with a light embrace, tears in her eyes. “And my dream came true. You are a princess.”

  “You’re beaming,” Melissa said.

  “It means everything to me that you’re both here.”

  In that moment, the music changed and “The Bride’s Rhapsody” began, a piece composed especially for Corina and Stephen. The stringed melody rose into the high, arched nave ceiling with notes of joy and celebration.

  If she had had any reservations, it was too late now.

  “Remember,” Daddy said, offering his hand, “everyone here is for you.”

  Corina placed her trembling hand on Daddy’s, her heart’s beat resounding through her.

  But she’d had this date with destiny for a long time.

  As she glided down the aisle with her hand cupped over Daddy’s, her gaze locked with Stephen’s. His smile trembled, and even from her distance, she saw the glisten of emotion in his eyes.

  He was dashing and handsome in his dress blues, a bank of medals over his heart, and the gold royal braid around his shoulder.

  Halfway down, among the oohs and ahhs, Corina slowed, pausing to notice Adelaide and Brill sitting on the aisle end of a long, polished pew.

  Adelaide’s eyes overflowed and Brill puffed out his chest, smoothing his hand over the tuft of grey hair sprouting from the crown of his head. Then he extended his hand, producing a single rose.

  Tears captured Corina’s eyes, and she broke rank to reach for the beautiful bloom. “You?”

  Brill beamed, winking.

  “Better keep moving, Kit,” Daddy whispered.

  But Corina leaned to kiss the old man, if indeed he was a man, on the cheek. Then Adelaide. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Our honor. Just remember, you’ve the tiara, never forget to drink from the cup.”

  “I won’t, I won’t.”

  “Kit, shug, we best keep going.”

  “Those are my friends, Daddy. The ones I told you about.”

  Daddy, such a southern gentleman, shook Brill’s then Adelaide’s hand as the music soared over and among them with the glide of violins and cellos.

  As they started again down the aisle, Stephen stepped down from the altar, moving toward them.

  In long, even strides, with no hint of a limp, he approached. Were it not for his smile, she might collapse to the floor. What was he doing?

  �
��Mr. Del Rey, may I have the honor of walking my bride the rest of the way to the altar?”

  Daddy checked with Corina. She nodded, melting with tears, and whispered to Stephen. “You’re going to mess up my makeup.”

  “Sorry, love, I just want to do the honor of presenting you to the Lord myself.”

  Daddy kissed Corina’s hand and backed away. “I love you, Kit.” He shook Stephen’s hand. “You take care of my girl. I trust you with her life.”

  Corina breathed in, her emotion swelling. Stephen, right there in the middle of the aisle, with millions watching, broke into tears, resting his forehead on Daddy’s shoulder.

  “It’s all right, son, it’s all right.” For a long moment, Daddy held his son-in-law in love and comfort.

  “Psst, shall we get going?” Tama, flushed and wide-eyed.

  Stephen raised his head with a laugh. “I suppose we’d best get on with this wedding.” He brushed his cheeks with his fingers and moved in beside Corina, replacing Daddy.

  “You do know I’m crazy about you, don’t you?” She couldn’t take her eyes from him. He was so brilliant and bright with the light of love.

  “Not half as crazy as I am about you.”

  Corina prepared to walk forward with him, but Stephen looked around the grand nave. “Esteemed guests,” he said, the orchestra bringing down the volume of the rhapsody yet keeping the joy and celebration in each movement. “Thank you for being here. I married this woman in secret before I deployed to Afghanistan. Then when I came home, broken from an intense battle, I felt I wasn’t worthy of her. So I sent her away.”

  Corina caught the silky trickle of tears at the edge of her chin.

  “For over five years, she dealt with her pain alone, but through a series of rather divine events, we came together again.” Stephen clapped his hand over his heart, his gaze now on her, full of blue persuasion. “She loved me when I showed her no regard. When I rebuffed and rejected her. She loved me well. She loved me to Jesus, where I finally discovered what it meant to be a man of worth. So I want the whole world to know I love this woman!” His shout rose to the rafters and rained over them.