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 news at the time, even though she knew it didn’t have anything to do with her. How could it? She’d only been eleven years old.
But she still remembered how shocked she’d been when she’d heard Stefano had walked away from royal life. She’d always found him more attractive and headstrong than Alberto, but she’d never told anyone her true feelings.
Her father shook his head. “His royal title has just been restored to him through an emergency act of that same parliament. Now he has officially proposed marriage to you.”
Lanza let out a cry, incredulous that Stefano wanted to marry her when he’d hardly noticed her growing up. “Is it so important that our two countries combine our money and resources to the point that Stefano has been sent in to salvage the situation? He’s the brother who wanted nothing to do with royal life!”
She knew she’d shocked her parents with an outburst that was totally unlike her. Never in her life had she dared speak her mind to them like this. But she felt frustrated and angry.
Her mother stood up and walked over to her. “We can understand your anger, darling, but please just listen. These have been dark days for all of us, but it’s true that Stefano wants to take his brother’s place and honor his commitment to you. It’s what both our families want.”
“But it’s not what I want and I’m over twenty-one!” Lanza stared at her parents in sheer disbelief. What they were asking went beyond rational thought. “You do know Stefano gave up the royal life years ago because he hated it.”
“That’s in the past,” her father murmured.
“Papà—he’s a gold-mining engineer and, according to Alberto, has had various love affairs with women where he’s lived around the world. You’re asking me to marry him? Are you serious?” she cried out.
Her mother’s eyes implored her. “We’re asking you to think about it and what it will mean for our two countries, for the future of both royal lines.”
“I’m getting older every day,” her father murmured. “Worse, I’m plagued by a fatigue that is growing more serious. I need a son-in-law to lean on who is fit to be king. Prince Stefano was raised like his brother, Alberto, and will make a splendid husband for you.”
“But he’s been a playboy!”
“No,” her father argued. “What he has done in his nonroyal past is what most men do before they find the right woman. There’s been no scandal about him in the media. He’s brought no shame of any kind. Quite the opposite. His brilliant business acumen is known around the world and has helped enrich his country. He’s Basilio’s son, after all.”
“But Father—”
“Hear me out, Lanza. His private life before now has no bearing on the future. That part is over.”
“How do you know he doesn’t have children somewhere? I’m not trying to be cruel by saying that, only practical.”
His expression hardened. “I’m going to forget you said that. He’s prepared to be a husband to you.”
Lanza was too stunned to talk. She studied her father, worried if it was true that he was ill. This was news no one had told her about. “Why haven’t I heard about your health before now, Papà?” She’d noticed he moved a little slower these days, but she attributed it to his growing older.
Her mother put a hand on her arm. “Because we didn’t want to burden you while you were preparing for your wedding day. We were assuming you wouldn’t have to worry about it, but with Alberto dying, everything has changed. Under the circumstances we’ll leave to give you time to think about everything.” She turned to Lanza’s father. “Come on, Victor.”
As Lanza watched them go, her two older sisters came in and shut the door. She sucked in her breath. “I take it you could hear us talking.”
They nodded.
“Is it true? Is Papà ill?”
“I only know what Mamà said.” Donetta spoke first. “Papà’s physician is concerned about his health and says he needs to slow down.”
Fausta