never felt uncomfortable with him.
The second-born son of her father’s best friend, King Basilio of Umbriano, had been mild-mannered. Over the years and occasional family get-togethers, both families felt their two children were the perfect fit. Since they’d wanted the marriage to happen, they went ahead with the betrothal on her twenty-first birthday.
According to what her parents had told her, they’d believed that out of her two sisters, Lanza had the right temperament and disposition to be the wife for Prince Alberto, who’d shown an interest in her.
From that time on Lanza had spent several weekends a month with Alberto, both in Domodossola and Umbriano. They’d developed a friendship that helped her to get ready for her marriage. She’d enjoyed being kissed by him, but they hadn’t been lovers.
The fact that he was nice-looking had made it easier to imagine intimacy in their marriage. She’d liked him well enough and believed they could be happy. But now that he was gone, one truth stood out from everything else.
She hadn’t lost the love of her life.
Furthermore, his death had made her aware of her own singlehood in a way she would never have anticipated. Since the betrothal she’d known what her future would be. For the past year she’d been planning on the intimacy of marriage and family, the kind her parents enjoyed. Yet in an instant, that future had died with him.
His life had been snuffed out in seconds because of a car crash on an icy, narrow mountain road when he’d swerved to avoid a truck. The accident had robbed her of the destiny planned out for her. But as sorry as she was for Alberto and his family, a part of her realized that she was now free to make different plans.
There was no law of succession in Domodossola since a female couldn’t rule. Now her parents would have to look elsewhere for a prince who would marry one of her older sisters, either Fausta or Donetta.
The sad, legitimate release of her betrothal vows gave Lanza a sense of liberation she’d never known before. Heaven help her but the thought was exciting. So exciting, in fact, she was assailed with uncomfortable guilt considering this was a time of mourning, and she did mourn Alberto’s death.
In an attempt to help her deal with the fact that Prince Alberto had been taken prematurely, the palace priest, Father Mario, had been summoned. He counseled her that she should be grateful Alberto hadn’t been forced to live through years of suffering. If his life had been spared, he might have lost limbs or been paralyzed.
Of course she was thankful for that and appreciated the priest’s coming to see her, but no one understood what was going on inside her. No longer would she be marking time, waiting for her future with Alberto to start. There was no future except the one she would make from here on out. In truth, Lanza found the thought rich with possibilities.
Since returning from the funeral, it hit her with stunning force that she was alone and dependent on herself to make her own decisions, just like her sisters had been allowed to do. This strange new experience wasn’t unlike watching a balloon that had escaped a string and was left to float with no direction in mind. But she knew what she wanted to do first.
With this new sense of freedom, she planned to visit her favorite aunt, Zia Ottavia, who lived in Rome with her husband, Count Verrini. They could talk about anything and Lanza loved her.
A knock on the door of her apartment brought her back from her thoughts.
“Lanza?” Her mother’s voice. “May your father and I come in?”
She assumed they wanted to comfort her and she loved them for it. Lanza hurried across the room and opened the door, giving them both a long hug. “Come in and sit in front of the fire.”
They took their places on the couch. She sat in her favorite easy chair across from them where she often planted herself to read. She’d been a bookworm from an early age.
“We asked Father Mario to visit you. Did he come?”
“Yes, and he gave me encouragement.”
“Oh, good,” her dark-blonde mother murmured, but Lanza could tell her parents were more anxious than ever and looked positively ill from the shock they’d all lived through. “We don’t think it’s good for you to stay in your apartment any longer. I’ve asked the cook to prepare your favorite meal, and your sisters are going to join us in the dining room for an early dinner.”
Her distinguished-looking father nodded. “You need to be around family. It isn’t healthy for you to be alone.”
“Actually, I’ve needed this time to myself in order to think. Please don’t be offended if I tell you I’m not hungry and couldn’t eat a big meal.”
“But if you keep this up, you’ll waste away,” her mother protested.
“No, Mamà. I promise that won’t happen. Right now I have important things on my mind.”
“We do, too,” her father broke in. “It’s time we talked seriously.”
She sat back. “What is it, Papà?”
He got to his feet and stoked the fire. “I’ve been on the phone with Basilio almost constantly for days.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure Alberto’s death has brought you two even closer. He and Queen Diania must be in desperate need of comfort.”
Her father blinked. “You’re really not all right, are you, my dear girl?”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You…don’t seem quite yourself,” her mother blurted.
If Lanza’s parents had expected her to fall apart and take to her bed, then they truly didn’t understand.
“I’ve shed my tears, but all it has done is give me a headache. I have to pull myself together and deal with the here and now. Honestly, I’ll be fine. In fact, I’m thinking of taking a trip to Rome to visit Zia Ottavia.
“She phoned me last night and asked me to stay with her for a few months. She’s planning to take a long trip to the US and wants me to go with her while Zio Salvatore has to stay in Rome on business. I love being with her and told her I’d come after I talked to you.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid you can’t go.”
What? She sat forward. “I don’t understand.”
He cleared his throat. “Alberto’s brother, Stefano, has asked for your hand in marriage and wishes to marry you on New Year’s Day in a year as planned.”
A STRANGE LAUGH broke from Lanza, who got to her feet. Maybe she was having a bad dream.
“Stefano? What kind of a joke is this? For one thing, that’s impossible! He was relieved of his royal duties years ago by their parliament.”
Lanza had taken a personal affront to the
