Prologue
March, 2001
“She’s going to be a beautiful princess.”
Queen Josephine of Edenbourg’s announcement was accompanied with a tender smile for the three-month-old baby cradled in the arms of her doting father.
“LeAnn already is a beautiful princess,” Prince Nicholas proudly corrected his mother. “She’s going to grow up to be the spitting image of Rebecca.”
The prince’s comment produced a blush on the face of his young American-born wife and happy laughter among the group crowded around the baby and her proud parents.
Outside, a cool rain was falling on the majestic towers of Edenbourg Abbey, but inside the ancient cathedral the mood was warm and festive. Family, friends and dignitaries from several countries had gathered to attend the christening of baby LeAnn, first grandchild of the king and queen of Edenbourg, one of the most beautiful countries in Eastern Europe, and daughter to the heir to the throne.
“Well put, my son. LeAnn is already quite beautiful,” Josephine agreed. The slender woman with a sleek brown chignon and regal stature touched a gentle finger to the baby’s rosy cheek. “And so far she’s behaved like a little angel.”
“Yes, so far,” Rebecca spoke up in worried motherly fashion. “But I fear once the bishop takes hold of her she’s going to start wailing at the top of her lungs.”
Once more chuckles abounded throughout the group. As if on cue, the baby looked around with wide innocent eyes, then not caring one whit that her audience was made up of royal bloodlines dating back to medieval times, she gave them a toothless grin.
Standing at the prince’s right elbow, golden-haired Princess Dominique Stanbury, the youngest of the Stan-bury siblings, smiled affectionately as she reached for her new niece.
“Let me hold her, dear brother. You’re positively too greedy where your daughter is concerned. You’re going to have her spoiled rotten before she’s old enough to sit upright.”
With a groan of feigned reluctance, the tall young prince with black hair handed the baby to his younger sister. “That’s what princesses are for, aren’t they? To be spoiled. Father certainly pampered you,” he teased.
A spate of laughter followed his words. Dominique wrinkled her nose at him and glanced at her older sister, Isabel, who was standing a few steps away from their brother. “Isabel, you’re not going to let him get away with that, are you?”
Princess Isabel laughed as her gaze seesawed back and forth between her two siblings. Like Dominique, she possessed a tall, slender build and light green eyes. But where Dominique’s thick mane was golden brown and fell to the middle of her back, Isabel’s was dark brown and just brushed the top of her shoulders. An impish smile appeared on her face as she spoke. “Don’t worry, sister, LeAnn will give our brother a special lesson in spoiling princesses. And I can’t wait to see how well he holds up under the strain.”
The whole family chuckled, except for little LeAnn. The baby began to fuss and Dominique instinctively rocked her with a gentle swaying motion. At the same time, she noticed her mother’s attention was once again riveted to her wristwatch. The gesture was out of character for Josephine, who approached every social event with smooth and steady confidence.
Bending her head toward her mother’s ear, she asked, “What’s wrong, Mother? You’ve been checking the time after every minute.”
Casting an anxious eye toward the massive carved doors at the entrance of the cathedral, the queen said, “It’s really getting rather late in the hour. I expected your father to be here by now.”
Catching the last part of his mother’s distressed comment, Nicholas consulted the timepiece strapped to his wrist. “There’s still fifteen minutes before the ceremony starts. I’m sure Father will be showing up any minute.”
Exasperation was evident in the brief shake of Josephine’s head. “I tried to persuade him to ride with me this morning, but he insisted he had some sort of brief business to take care of before he joined us here at the abbey. He then left with only an armed driver. I do hope there hasn’t been some sort of trouble that forced him to return to the castle.”
The queen turned a commanding look on her son. “Nicholas, go question security. Perhaps they’ve been in radio contact.”
As the prince walked away to do her bidding, Dominique pulled her mother a few steps aside of the group of family and friends.
“It isn’t like you to get so alarmed, Mother,” she said in a hushed tone. “I’m sure Father was just detained with business. It certainly won’t be the first time.”
Queen Josephine gave her daughter a halfhearted smile. “You are right. But something—” With another unusual display of nerves, she pressed a jeweled hand to her throat. “I can’t explain it. But something has left me with an uneasy feeling. Michael was so looking forward to his granddaughter’s christening and—”
Her words paused as the guests around them began to exchange excited whispers and stare toward the entrance of the cathedral.
Both mother and daughter turned to see the line of security at the massive doors had parted and a tall man with gray hair was striding toward the congregation standing near the altar. A younger, dark-haired man followed immediately on his heels.
The massive size of the church made the distance too great to exactly identify the men. But from the tall stature and gray hair of the older one, Dominique was certain it had to be her father, the king.
She turned a relieved smile on her mother. “See, there he is now. Your worrying was all for naught.”
A slight frown creased Josephine’s forehead as she continued to study the advancing male figures. “That isn’t Michael. I don’t recognize either of these men.”
By now Nicholas had returned from questioning the guards. His grim expression caused such alarm to rush through Dominique, she completely forgot about the two strangers.
“What does security say?” Josephine quickly questioned him.
Nicholas shook his head. “They haven’t heard from Father since he and his driver left the castle more than an hour ago. A detail is out checking the route at this very moment.”
Before mother or sister could question him further, the two unknown men, accompanied by one security guard, approached the queen.
All went suddenly quiet and everyone in the huge church looked on with a bit of amazement as the elder of the two men bowed deeply from the waist. A royal christening with gate-crashers didn’t happen in Edenbourg. Not even rarely.
In a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, he said, “Your Majesty, I hope you will forgive me for trespassing on this special occasion. I am your husband’s brother, Edward Stanbury. And this is my eldest son, Luke.” He gestured toward the younger man at his side, who in turn bowed to the queen.
Murmurs of disbelief rippled through the guests while Josephine simply stared at the two intruders. From the rigid line of her jaw, Dominique could tell her mother was trying not to reveal her shock at this sudden turn of events. Edward Stanbury had left the country of Edenbourg years ago to become a citizen of the United States. He and King Michael were estranged and had been