The Prince's Bride. Lisa Laurel Kaye
you think he’s all right?” Whit finally asked.
Erik shrugged and propped a shoulder against the wall.
Whit dragged his fingers through his hair. “I hate to see him like this.”
Erik knew what he meant. The golden strands of the king’s thick hair and beard were well-laced with silver, and his recent illness and surgery had left him looking careworn and haggard. And the way he talked… For the first time, Erik feared his indomitable father might be giving up hope. The thought gave him a bone-deep chill.
He shook it off, refusing to think about the possibility of King Ivar’s not making it. Instead of dwelling on something he had no power over, he turned his thoughts to something he did: his father’s preoccupation with the idea of securing the succession. Erik had long known that it was his duty to his country to marry before his coronation. But maybe it was his duty to his father to do it sooner.
He had someone in mind, of course; someone he had known for a long time. She was exactly the kind of woman he had always expected to take as a wife: a woman who suited him perfectly, who surely shared his feeling that she was destined to be his bride.
Erik had waited for a number of reasons, but now he knew that he had put off the inevitable long enough. The time was finally right. Tonight’s ball would be the perfect forum for him to introduce his future bride to the world. The perfect setting for their rendezvous with destiny.
Julie Britton set down the receiver but hung on to the phone, as if that might stop the strange soaring feeling that the unexpected news had given her.
Of course she had known Prince Erik would be back in the States, now that his father was ill. But she never expected that he would make an appearance at the ball here in Anders Point tonight.
Not that it mattered to her, Julie told herself firmly. She was in charge of planning the charity ball for King Ivar. She had overseen everything, right down to the last detail. It couldn’t possibly matter to her which of the king’s sons was to perform the duties of host.
In the past it had always been Prince Whit who oversaw these glamorous high-publicity events, while Erik tended to shy away from the spotlight. She wondered now what could possibly be forcing the mysterious Prince Erik away from desk duty and out into the public.
Under her hand the phone rang again. Julie jumped, then answered.
“Hello?”
“Julie! What are you still doing there at the castle?”
It was her friend, Annah. “Not much,” Julie said dryly. “Just planning a royal ball.”
“Well, it’s ten hours to midnight, Cinderella. Are you going to come down here and pick out a gown, or were you planning on wearing your rags to the ball?”
“Ten hours to—omigosh! It’s two o’clock already? I’ll be right there, Annah. Bye!”
After a quick check with the head chef on the food preparation for the evening, Julie rushed from the castle, carefully securing the door behind her. Not that she was worried about a break-in. The tiny coastal town of Anders Point, Maine, was hardly a hotbed of criminal activity. But she took great pride in her job as castle caretaker, treating the stately mansion as if it were her home. Of course it wasn’t her castle; it belonged to King Ivar.
But it felt like it was hers, because Julie was the only one who had lived there for the past year, except for occasional visits by the king. He had asked her to take over as caretaker after the death of her grandfather, who had long held the position. The decision was a no-brainer for Julie, who had lived in New York City since the age of three, but had spent most summers at Anders Point with her grandfather. The king’s offer had given her the ideal setup. Her duties had allowed her to continue her career as a reading specialist—she had gotten a part-time position in the town school, which had let out the week before for summer vacation—and she had a place to live.
Not just any place. She paused to look up at the magnificent facade, pushing away wisps of hair that the breeze from the ocean had freed from her braid. The castle, perched on a rocky bluff at the tip of Anders Point, was magical. It was built more for function than form, but it had a raw, elemental beauty set off by the backdrop of the restless ocean. Inside, its stone walls and dark corridors oozed history and romance.
No wonder she had once fallen in love there.
But that incredible night seemed like a dream now. She hadn’t seen Erik since their moonlit dance, nine years ago. But even now, Julie still cringed at the memory. She had crashed, all right, but in time she’d picked herself up and gone on with her life.
Preoccupied with her thoughts, she walked slowly around the castle, smiling wistfully at her long-ago hopes for what might have been with Erik. It hadn’t worked out, but she didn’t regret her decision to take a chance. There had been no happy ending for her, but she still believed in love.
The castle brought out her romantic nature. Especially since it was here that King Ivar himself had fallen in love, when he was still a prince. It was his family’s get-away home, and he had been staying in it while on official business in America, when a girl from Anders Point had captured his heart. She had been similarly smitten, and their storybook romance and royal wedding had thrilled the world, and Julie, too. She herself hadn’t been born when it happened, of course, but she had begged her mother time and again to tell the story of how the girl her mother had once jumped rope with had grown up to become a princess; and then a queen when Ivar took the throne.
In the queen’s memory, the king held a huge ball every few years at the Anders Point castle where they had met, to raise money for her favorite charity. The sweetness of that gesture always touched Julie, who saw it as undeniable proof that even a man as powerful and demanding as King Ivar could be as romantic as she was on the inside—unlike his son. Naturally, the king himself had always hosted the ball. And although he wouldn’t be there this time, he had insisted that the ball go on as scheduled.
Tonight. It was hard to believe. It seemed like only a million details ago that the king had asked her to be in charge of coordinating the preparations for the ball. Julie, who had never so much as planned a wedding, had been flattered by the king’s trust in her, and was determined to prove that it had not been misplaced.
Especially now, with him in the hospital. She had been fond of the king ever since she was a little girl. During the past year her regard had grown. Julie figured she would do just about anything to ease the king’s mind and speed his recovery.
With that thought, she hurried to her car and drove down the hill on the castle road. Julie made herself take deep breaths of the breeze coming in off the ocean. To her knowledge, no one had ever died of excitement, but she didn’t want to be the first, not today of all days. Not when she finally had a chance to get a glimpse of Prince. Erik again.
“Julie! Julie!” Six-year-old Lexi Davis sprinted out from the back room of the two-story house Annah lived and worked in. The little girl’s hands clamped an aluminum foil tiara, which had been knocked askew by her run, onto the top of her head.
“Princess Lexi! How was your morning?” Julie asked as she caught her up in a hug. Lexi’s mother, Julie’s childhood friend Drew, was sheriff of Anders Point. To the dismay of her practical mother, Lexi’s princess phase had far outlived that of most other little girls. Lexi didn’t just play princess; she lived it. Julie, who considered such imagination a priceless gift, happily indulged her.
“It was—” Lexi paused, frowning, no doubt thinking of a word with just the right amount of royal condescension. “Quite satisfactory,” she finished with a smile.
“I’m pleased to hear it, Your Highness.”
“Because this is the best place to play dress up,” Lexi added breathlessly. “I love when Annah watches me.
“Where’s your mommy?”
“Out on a call.”
That could mean anything, Julie knew. As the town’s only elected