The Unlawfully Wedded Princess

“Hey, what if he married someone else?” CeCe asked.

“Yeah, why not?” Lucia said. “A guy like that shouldn’t have any trouble finding a wife. He could probably snap his fingers, and a dozen would stand in line.”

“He already thought of that,” Amelia answered quickly, dismayed at how disturbed she felt at the thought of Nick marrying someone else. “He would run into the same problem he has now. The Ministry of Family is hung up on the fact that Nick got married solely to facilitate the adoption. If he entered into another quickie marriage, it would be obvious what he was up to. So that’s not the answer,” she concluded, relieved she could argue so eloquently against CeCe’s idea. It made her squirm to picture Nick with some other woman—only because she worried that another woman might not care about the children the way she did, Amelia reassured herself.

“Hmm.” Lucia tapped her chin, looking thoughtful.

“I just feel so terrible,” Amelia said. “It’s my fault he’s in this pickle. I ought to do something to—what do you mean, ‘Hmm’?” Amelia zeroed in on Lucia. Of all of them, Lucia was the most used to thinking outside the box—which made her a constant worry to their mother. But she was also a great problem-solver.

“How badly do you want to be queen?” Lucia asked.

That was a good question. “I want to do it, I guess. It’s an amazing opportunity. I’m not crazy about the idea of giving up anything resembling a private life, but I’m willing. Why?”

“I’ve got an idea—but it might kill your chances with Grandfather.”

Oh, dear. Lucia had that look of daring in her eyes that had always gotten them all in trouble when they were kids.

“Well, speak up, girl, what is it?” Hester urged.

“Amelia, why don’t you simply marry Nick—for real, nice and legal?”

Amelia’s heart hitched at the very thought before reality reasserted itself. She threw her hands up in the air. “Oh, for heaven’s—”

“No, no, wait, hear me out,” Lucia said. “This is good. By marrying Nick and readopting the children, you prove to the Ministry of Family that you really were serious back in Palemeir, and it was just circumstances that separated you. You solve Nick’s problem.”

Lucia’s suggestion met with stunned silence for a few seconds. Then CeCe spoke up. “And she also renders herself ineligible for the throne. I mean, a queen can’t marry an ex-mercenary and adopt children. Right?”

“Nick is a handsome devil,” Hester added. “If I were a few years younger and didn’t have my Quincy, I’d marry him.”

“Yeah, not a bad bonus, getting to share a bed with him.”

“Lucia!” Amelia felt the heat rising in her face because her sister had voiced exactly what she’d been thinking. “You’ve never even met him.”

“Yeah, but CeCe told me he was hot.”

“I said he was handsome,” CeCe objected.

Amelia laughed. “You all can’t be serious…can you?”

Three pairs of eyes looked expectantly at her.

“But he’s furious with me. He would never agree to it.”

“From what you’ve said,” CeCe pointed out, “Nick would do whatever it took to keep those kids.”

Amelia had to concede that was true.

“Anyway, it’s not like you have to stay married the rest of your lives,” Lucia pointed out. “Once the Minister’s Family is convinced the marriage was genuine after all, they’ll turn their attention elsewhere, and you and Nick can quietly divorce.”

Amelia gave her younger sister a friendly shoulder nudge. “Trying to get rid of me so you can be queen?”

Everyone laughed at that. “Grandfather dearest isn’t about to hand over his precious country to me,” Lucia said. “Not after the spectacle I made of myself at CeCe’s wedding.” She was referring to the fact that she’d shown up at the sumptuous society wedding on the arm of a rock singer. “He’ll have to look elsewhere for an heir to the throne. I mean, we’re not his only grandchildren. There’s always Cousin Markus to fall back on.”

Amelia shook her head. “I’m not marrying Nick. Mother would have a fit. She wants one of us to be queen so she can play Queen Mum.”

That produced another round of laughter. Charlotte wasn’t the Queen Mum type. She had her own empire to run—DeLacey Shipping. But she did want to keep peace with the king now that they were somewhat reconciled, and she did hope for great things for her daughters. She would be terribly disappointed if Amelia sabotaged her chance to inherit the throne of Korosol.

For the time being, discussion of Amelia marrying Nick was put on the back burner, for which she was grateful. The four women launched themselves into shopping in earnest. But one phrase kept running through Amelia’s mind…

No wife, no adoption, no kids.

When they arrived back at the penthouse, arms laden with sacks and boxes for the nursery, Bernice, Charlotte’s rotund, rosy-cheeked cook, enticed the sisters to have lunch before they all went their separate ways. Charlotte joined them. Amelia had hoped her grandfather, who was staying at the penthouse, might also venture out and share in the meal. In a more informal setting, she might broach the subject of Nick and Josie and Jakob again. But he took his meal in his room, which he often did.

Charlotte presided over lunch as if it were a board meeting. Her slim stature, erect posture and short, tousled white hair made her look far younger than her fifty years. She was deeply concerned about her girls’ futures, but she had spent so much time away from her daughters when they were young that none of them felt terribly close to her.

“So, Amelia,” Charlotte began as they all munched on crab-salad croissants around a table on the screened lanai, “how did Mr. Standish’s audience with the king go?”

“That was yesterday,” Lucia commented. “You’re just now asking?”

“I’ve been busy,” Charlotte said tightly. “We’ve got the dock workers threatening to strike and a new ship to ready for dedication next week. The mayor’s coming for that one, you know.”

Lucia poked her fork into the crunchy end of her croissant. “I thought you were interested in Nick’s audience.”

“I am, of course. And I’m sure Amelia will tell me what happened, if you’ll stop sniping at me.”

“Sniping? All I did was—”

“Knock it off, Lucia,” Amelia said wearily. “You were picking a fight and you know it.” Lucia and Charlotte mixed about as well as gasoline and matches. All of her life, Amelia had been the peacekeeper. If it wasn’t Lucia trying to establish her independence, it was CeCe trying too hard to compete with her mother, though Charlotte had been getting along better with CeCe since learning of her impending grandchild. Charlotte, who had not been the most attentive of mothers while the princesses were growing up, intended to make up for it with her grandchildren.

“You’re right,” Lucia said grudgingly. “Sorry, Mother.”

Charlotte smiled at Lucia. “My little drama queen. You always did like to scrap. I’ve always had that problem myself.” Crisis averted, Amelia related to her mother what had happened during Nick’s brief audience.

“He can be so inflexible,” Charlotte said in an exasperated reference to the king. “And once he’s made up his mind, there’s no changing it.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Amelia blotted her mouth and set her napkin on the table, no longer hungry. She couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. She had to at least talk to Nick one more time. He’d avoided her and all of the New York Carradignes like Ebola ever since their audience yesterday. She’d pried the name of his hotel out of Eleanor, and left half a dozen messages, but he wouldn’t return her calls.

Each hour that passed with no word from him increased Amelia’s suspicion that he was going to do something crazy. And she was powerless to stop him.

Or was she?

Quincy Vanderling, Hester’s husband, opened the door and stepped onto the lanai. “Begging your pardon, ladies,” he said even as he grabbed an olive off Amelia’s plate and popped it into his mouth. He then smoothed his thinning white hair in a gesture of nonchalance.

When Hester had come to America to work for Lady Charlotte and Prince Drake shortly after their marriage, a besotted Quincy had followed, eventually hired as the Carradignes’ butler—and as Hester’s husband. Slightly stooped and a little husky, he wasn’t very butlerish. But he was utterly devoted to Hester and the Carradigne family.

“What is it, Quincy?” Charlotte asked.

“Miss Eleanor Standish is here. She needs to deliver some faxes to the king, but she would like to pay her respects to you all as well. Want me to put her in the Grand Room?”