Hand-Me-Down Princess (43 page)

I said I could go on for days, and I could keep going. On and on. I know I’ve forgotten many people and I hate that. But you, dear reader, would quickly get bored.

So THANK YOU to all of those who have helped me along the way. I couldn’t have done this without you and you have my eternal gratitude. To the HUNDREDS of you (I’m gobsmacked!) who pre-ordered and encouraged me without knowing it as that little number continued to climb, you have my eternal gratitude. I hope you stick around for the next one!

And, of course, last but never,
ever
, least, to Jesus Christ, without whom none of this would be possible - or worth it.

Winning The

Queen’s

Heart

Coming Fall 2015!

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Previews may not be in their final form and are subject to change.

“Arrest him and throw him in the dungeon.” Queen Christiana Elizabeth Marissa Abigail the first stared as seven slightly different versions of herself in a cloud of white satin and tulle stared back from the multifaceted mirror.

The man behind her nodded. “I will give the order, Your Majesty.” He bowed slightly at the waist and turned to walk out, but she called after him.

“Alexander?”

He stopped and turned, meeting her eyes in the mirrors. “Yes, ma’am?”

“You are certain?”

Alexander Bayfield nodded. “The assassination would be carried out on your honeymoon allowing your fiancée to claim his ‘rightful’ place as King of Ravenzario. The drugs were found in his possession.”

“That’s not how the commonwealth works.” Without an heir, Ravenzario would be broken up and absorbed into Mevendia and Montevaro.

“I know. I don’t know if he does. Many people do not.”

Christina allowed nothing of her feelings to show as she dismissed him with a curt nod. Alexander held the door for the seamstress.

“I would like to change out of this.” The implications of her fiancée’s betrayal were beginning to fly through her mind. Not only would there be a trial and the man whose name she refused to think would be paraded in front of the people, but so would her personal life and her judgment would once again be called into question. This time, however, there would be truth to the allegations.

And there was a wedding to call off.

As the gown slipped over her shoulders and she stepped out of it, Christiana merely nodded, the seamstress’s words floating in one ear and out the other as the consequences to her country began to assail her. A year after ousting her uncle who had been usurping her throne and authority, her wedding would be called off. Foreign dignitaries would have to be told. The crowds expecting to see the royal couple would be disappointed

And her family’s good name would once more be dragged through the mud.

The seamstress carried the dress out, leaving Christiana alone. As she slid her linen pants on and retied the cobalt wraparound silk blouse, for the first time in her adult life, Christiana wished to merely be a normal person. To have the weight and pressures of ruling her country fall away. Where the only concern would be how much of a refund she would get from the vendors and not whether her countrymen would lose their already fragile trust in her.

Her heels clicked along the stone floor in the hallway as she retreated to her personal apartments. Here no one entered without explicit permission. It gave her the privacy she craved - and the loneliness she detested. For nearly an hour, she stared out the window and over the storm tossed waves of the Mediterranean. The gray sky and torrential downpour matched the turmoil inside. The buzz of the intercom interrupted her reverie.

“Yes?”

“Alexander to see you, ma’am.” The disembodied voice of her secretary crackled through the air.

“Send him in.”

She did not move as the door to her sitting room opened and closed. “Your Majesty?”

One hand waved toward the armchair across from her. “Have a seat, Alexander.” As he sat, she shifted to look at him. “You have a report?”

“He is in the dungeon, ma’am, per your orders. Bail has already been denied due to the eminent threat to your royal person. The judge and security teams believe he would try something else, though they are certain you will call off the wedding. No official statement has been made, of course, but that is the presumption among those in the know.”

“The wedding will be called off,” she answered softly. “I have not given the orders yet, but it is only a matter of time. My only saving grace at the moment is his anonymity. His subterfuge gives a valid reason for his insistence on utter secrecy surrounding his identity as my intended.”

“It does,” Alexander confirmed. “Since he had not been associated with you, he was able to get what he needed from otherwise unsavory characters who would never betray the crown so directly.”

“The press will have a field day.” Christiana turned back to the window, standing and moving toward it until she could feel the chill rolling through. “My country is like the weather. We were stable for so long. Following the death of my parents’ and brother, there was a brief time of turmoil, but my uncle ruled on my behalf, giving continuity and gravitas to the government. The turmoil of his ouster has not been settled very long, if truly at all. The wedding and tour of the country was to have been the occasion to restore the trust and let my countrymen lay to rest their concerns.” She drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I fear what will happen when this becomes public. Not for myself. I would be lying if I said I did not enjoy the trappings of royalty most of the time, but a revolution or civil war will result only in needless deaths and chaos for my people and I must do whatever is in my power to stop it from happening.”

She turned to look at Alexander. “If only there was a solution.”

* * *

Alexander’s stomach churned much like the weather outside the queen’s windows. So many things in her statement he had a response to, but so many he felt the need to bide his time on. If she knew everything he did, Queen Christiana would likely suffer an emotional collapse. He would need to dole the information out slowly, as she needed to know.

But first and foremost, she was correct about the wedding. Calling it off could have a disastrous effect on the people, but what other option was there?

“You have several days before you need to make the announcement, ma’am.” He’d known Christiana for a number of years before he’d known she was queen of the country where his parents owned property and operated a wedding venue. The venue where every royal wedding for the last two centuries had been held. Where her wedding was to have been. “The only people who know are ones with completely loyalty not only to the crown but to you personally. The judge has sealed all of the information for the time being. There will be no leaks.”

She turned, looking as vulnerable as he’d ever seen her. Even when her uncle’s deceit had been uncovered, she hadn’t looked like this. “Thank you, Alexander. I know I can count on you.”

He had no background in security or police work, but had lucked into the information leading to her uncle’s arrest. In doing so, he’d truly earned his way into her inner circle. At the same time he missed the casual acquaintance with the young woman he’d known and talked with on occasion. Her laughter was a distant memory, one he cherished.

“What is the next step?”

“The barrister will finalize the case against him. He will be given the opportunity to plead guilty and avoid a trial and the death penalty. If he accepts the deal, he will live the rest of his life in solitary confinement in the dungeon or another place of your choosing. I would recommend either the dungeon or Pirate’s Island.”

“I cannot bear the thought of him being in my home, even if he is far away, and I will never see him.” She gave a delicate shudder. “Pirate’s Island would be better.”

Alexander nodded. “I agree, Your Majesty.”

She sighed. “In private there is no need for such formality, Alexander. Please call me Christiana.”

He nodded his acquiescence but knew he would go no less formal than “ma’am” for the time being.

“If he chooses not to accept the deal?”

“He will be assigned an attorney. There will be a very short list of approved names for him to choose from. While every letter of every law will be followed to the utmost, he will not be given the chance to drag you through the press with unfounded allegations of all sorts by giving him an attorney with no scruples.”

Her brow furrowed, deep in thought. “I have no desire to be sneaky and underhanded, but see if you can find some leverage. Perhaps convince him that pleading guilty is in his best interest and in return we will do something for him. See that his niece is well-cared for, perhaps. Guarantee her tuition and college fees will be arranged by myself. Something to help convince him to go quietly.”

“I believe we can find a way.”

The uncertainty returned to her face. “You are certain, Alexander? There is no mistaking what he planned to do?”

He felt his heart break for her. “No, ma’am. There is no question.”

“Very well. See it is done.”

“Of course.” Alexander stood, deciding to take a chance before he could change his mind. “Christiana, I know you believe you love him, that he loved you. Somewhere out there is a man who will love
you
. Not the queen and the trappings of power that come with the royal family, but the girl who laughed at her favorite sitcoms with her best friend.” Something he knew all too much about, even if she didn’t know that. “The girl who only eats M&Ms in even numbers and saves the green ones for last, unless she’s in public. That man is out there and someday soon, he’s going to find you.”

She turned a sad smile his way. “I do not meet a lot of men, Alexander. How am I going to meet a man who loves me for me and not my position, especially after the debacle that is about to descend on my life?”

He took several steps until he stood less than a foot in front of her. “Marry
me
.”

* * *

WINNING THE QUEEN’S HEART

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Christiana Elizabeth Marissa Abigail has been queen of Ravenzario since her family died in a horrific car accident when she was five. Her uncle acted as her regent until she was of age. In the last year, the uncovering of his duplicity shook the country’s faith in her - and her faith in herself. At least she is finally going to get to marry her secret boyfriend. Isn’t she?

American Alexander Bayfield has been in love with the queen of his adopted country for years. A chance conversation, one he wasn’t supposed to overhear, inserted him into Queen Christiana’s inner circle. For two years, he’s watched as her relationship with a man he knows to be evil progressed. The evidence to finally put him away for good has been uncovered and it’s up to Alexander to break the news to her.

The aftermath leaves Alexander as the only one Christiana can turn to, the only one who can protect her reputation and, more importantly, her heart. Will he be able to win it for himself, or will secrets from his past, paparazzi who tell stories before checking facts, and the long-reaching tentacles of her uncle’s empire keep them from finding love?

Previews may not be in their final form and are subject to change.

Finding

Mr.

Write

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Local Woman Arrested For Stalking Favorite Author

Dorrie Miller could see the headline now. She held the phone between her ear and shoulder as she shoved a pair of jeans in the drawer. “Did you really buy night vision goggles?”

“What do you think?” Sarcasm deepened the Appalachian accent until Dorrie could barely understand Anise.

Of course she had.

Anise had bought the night vision goggles and the ear wig thingies, the ones that looked like hearing aids, and heaven only knew what else.

Within two days of being at their first major national conference for writers, they’d be cooling their heels in a jail cell, hoping no one would use their escapades for story fodder. CANDID stood for Christian Author’s Network, Dedicated to Inspirational
Distinction
, not detention.

“We’re really going to stalk this woman? I know you want to meet her. I do, too. But stalking? That’s a felony.” Or a serious misdemeanor. Whichever. It wouldn’t be good. “We’ll have restraining orders and never be able to show our face at CANDID again.” Dorrie checked her appearance in the mirror once more. Passable. “And how do you know MEL is going to be at conference, anyway?”

As administrator of the Mya Elizabeth Linscott Facebook page, Dorrie should know when the author had appearances scheduled. Dorrie had read all of MEL’s books so many times she could quote large sections of them. Her collection would be complete with autographs, but the only way to get signed copies was to get them off MEL’s website for twice the cover price. Sure, the extra money went to charity but Dorrie still didn’t have that kind of cash. Instead, she had a standing order with the local Christian bookstore to get the latest book as soon as it released.