Royal Families Vs. Historicals. Rebecca Winters

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      “Who holds the rings?”

      “I do,” Zach responded.

      “Grant that the love which the bride and groom have for each other now may always be an eternal round. Antonio? Take the ring and put it on Christina’s finger saying, ‘With this ring, I thee wed.’”

      She presented her left hand while he repeated the words. Her hand trembled a little as he slid the wedding band next to the diamond from the royal family treasury he’d given her four years earlier. So she wasn’t quite as composed as he’d thought, but it didn’t make him feel any better. If anything, he felt worse because he’d done nothing to ease her into this union and lamented his selfishness.

      Now it was her turn to present him with his ring. She took it and placed it on Antonio’s finger. His new bride was suddenly so composed that again he marveled. “With this ring, I thee wed,” she said in a steady voice.

      They were married.

      The deed was done.

      “Antonio and Christina, as the two of you have joined this marriage uniting as husband and wife, and as you this day affirm your faith and love for each other, I would ask that you always remember to cherish each other as special and unique individuals, that you respect the thoughts, ideas and suggestions of one another.

      “Be able to forgive, do not hold grudges, and live each day that you may share it together. From this day forward you shall be each other’s home, comfort and refuge, your marriage strengthened by your love and respect.”

      Antonio’s shame increased. I’ve shown her no respect.

      “You may now kiss your bride.”

      When Antonio turned to her, he saw a look of consternation in her eyes. Oh, Christina. What have I done to you? You’re so good. So sweet. His eyes focused on her lovely mouth before he grasped her upper arms gently and kissed her.

      Not only her lips but her whole body trembled. Her fragrance assailed him. He deepened the kiss, wanting her to know he planned to make their marriage work. Whether she was putting on a show for everyone, or responding instinctively to new emotions bombarding her as they were him, he didn’t know. But she kissed him back and he found himself wanting it to go on and on.

      The priest cleared his throat, prompting Antonio to lift his mouth from hers. A subtle blush had entered her cheeks. He removed his hands.

      “Antonio and Christina, if you’ll turn around.” When they’d done his bidding, he said in a loud voice, “May I present Crown Prince Antonio de L’Accardi and his royal bride, Princess Christina Rose. Allow them to walk down the aisle to the foyer of the chapel, where you can mingle outside.”

      Elena came forward to give Christina her bouquet, and then the organist played the wedding march. Taking a deep breath, Antonio grasped her free hand, still feeling the tingly effect of her warm, generous mouth on his. He guided her to the first pew where his parents were seated and stopped long enough for both of them to bow to the king and queen of Halencia.

      To show Christina’s parents his respect, he escorted her across the aisle to their pew to acknowledge them. He gave her a sideward glance. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. He didn’t know what that was about.

      How could you know when you haven’t spent any real time getting to know her?

      More upset with himself and even more shaken by their kiss, he walked her slowly down the aisle. He darted her another glance, but this time she was smiling at everyone. She was so gracious it impressed the hell out of him. She could have been born to royalty.

      He’d honored Christina’s wishes by letting her plan the wedding here instead of the fourteenth-century cathedral in Voti. She’d insisted on a simple ceremony. If there’d been any royal formality or long traditional ceremony, she wouldn’t have agreed. Antonio had been so thankful she hadn’t backed out that he’d fallen in with her every wish.

      In private he’d asked his parents to take a backseat so this could be Christina’s day. She was beloved of the people, but she couldn’t have abided all the pomp and circumstance. Since his parents were resigned to their fate to put Antonio on the throne, they’d acceded to his wishes. He’d even heard them say they were relishing the idea of retirement and looking forward to more freedom in the future.

      At his engagement four years ago, Antonio had vowed to sacrifice his personal freedom and return from California to take the throne at a later date with Christina at his side. He’d felt a strong loyalty to his country and had always been conscious of his royal duty. But he’d only been prepared to marry her on his terms, and hadn’t considered her fears.

      There were going to be a lot of changes after his coronation in another week. He had a raft of constitutional issues that would put the royal family in a figurehead role, with specific duties. There would be a much reduced civil list, no hangers-on supported by the state; all personal belongings and lifestyle choices and holidays would be paid for by personal business interests rather than the state.

      The areas of change went on and on, which was why the monarchy had been on the brink of disaster. This marriage would hopefully turn the tide of criticism. Christina’s values of hard work and true charity resonated with the people. Her example of selflessness was the big reason they’d embraced Antonio as their soon-to-be king. Antonio still had to prove himself equal to the task. And much more, like becoming the husband Christina deserved.

      He walked her outside and across the courtyard to the terrace bedecked in flowers at the side of the palazzo. A small orchestra was playing a waltz at one end of the terrace with an area reserved for dancing. Hundreds of tiny lights strewn among the trees and flowers made it look like a true fairyland and had created a heavenly fragrance. The grand serving table with its fountain and flowers was surrounded by exquisitely set tables, an enchanting sight he’d always remember.

      The late-afternoon Tuscan sunshine shone down on them. The picturesque setting and vineyard had an indescribable beauty, yet all he could see for the moment was the stunning bride draped in alençon lace, still clinging to his hand. Antonio swallowed hard.

      She’s my wife! She’s the woman I promised to love and cherish.

      Suddenly he seemed to see a whole new world ahead of them, uncharted as yet. Her faith in their marriage made him open his eyes to new possibilities. This was their wedding day. He wanted it to be wonderful for both of them. After their kiss at the altar, he was eager to feel her in his arms.

      * * *

      “Christina? Look this way.”

      She was so dazed by what had happened at the end of the ceremony that she was hardly aware of the photographers brought in to make a record of their wedding day. When Antonio had deepened their kiss, she felt a charge of energy run through her body like a current of electricity. She could still feel his compelling mouth on hers.

      Maybe this was how every bride felt when kissed on her wedding day. But Antonio wasn’t just any man. He was her husband, for better or worse.

      Before everyone could crowd around to congratulate them, Antonio pulled her close. “Do you mind if we talk to our guests later? I’d like to dance with you first,” he said in his deep voice.

      Her heart thumped hard before she looked at him. “I’d love it.”

      His

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