Bride to the King (20 page)

“You are not going to look very becoming if you have a red nose from the cold,” Katalin said, when Sándor had first told Zosina he could wait no longer and he was arranging for their wedding to take place before Christmas.

“I don’t care what I look like,” Zosina replied, “all I want is to be with Sándor. I would marry him in a tempest at sea or in a thunderstorm as long as I could be his wife.”

The snow had made Dórsia more beautiful than it was already and Sándor had said that the huge stoves in every room of the house by the lake would keep them warm whatever the temperature outside.

“Actually the hot springs underground keep the house warm too,” he explained, “and you can be prepared to swim even on Christmas Day.”

“Mama would be shocked at the thought of my swimming at any time of the year!” Zosina replied.

The King turned her face up to his.

“It is not what your mother says now, it is what
I
say,” he said, “and I want you to swim. I promise I will look after you whether it is winter or summer. Perhaps I should prefer the winter, because I can hold you closer in my arms to keep you warm.”

There was a note of passion in his voice that made her heart turn over in her breast and, as she looked into his eyes, she knew how much he wanted her, as she wanted him.

Now they were married and they were in the house by the lake. And they were on their honeymoon.

It was Sándor who had planned everything, the early wedding, the reception which did not go on for too long and the manner in which they could slip away leaving their guests to enjoy themselves.

They had left the three girls thrilled and excited because Zosina had asked them to act as hostesses in her absence.

“You must keep everybody happy,” she said, “so that they do not think it rude of Sándor and me not to be there. But we do want to reach his house by the lake tonight.”

“Of course you do!” Katalin said, “so you can be alone and tell each other of your love.”

She was speaking dramatically as usual, but Zosina knew it was the truth.

That was what she wanted, to be alone with Sándor and, now that she was, she felt herself thrilling because she was close to him.

Now that she was married, she felt in some way she could not quite explain that he was more masculine, more overwhelming and more exciting than he had ever seemed before.

“I love – you!” she said, as he looked down at her, his eyes searching her face.

“And I adore you, my precious!” he said. “I have a great deal to teach you about love and I think it is a subject about which you are not as knowledgeable as I am.”

“But I am a very – willing pupil,” Zosina whispered. “You are so sweet – so perfect!”

He kissed her until she looked around in surprise to find that the sun had sunk and it was already dusk.

Later from the windows of the dining room that overlooked the lake, Sándor explained how in the summer, they could sit on the terrace outside to have their meals and watch the wild birds.

Now in the candlelight they wanted only to look into each other’s eyes and there was really no need for words because they vibrated to each other in a way which told Zosina that her thoughts were his thoughts.

When dinner was over, she thought that Sándor would take her back into the salon where she had not yet had time to look at the exquisite pictures on the walls or the furniture that his father had collected and which she had learned were the envy of museums all over the world.

Instead, with his arm around her shoulders, he took her up the carved staircase and along the passage that led to their private apartments.

She had already learnt that her room opened into a boudoir which connected with his, but before dinner there had been no time to explore, because she was in such a hurry to change her gown and be with him again.

Now he opened the door of the boudoir and, as she stared around her, she gave a little cry of sheer delight.

She saw it had been decorated with Christmas trees, silver tinsel and witch balls.

It was lit by tiny candles on two Christmas trees and they blazed bravely like little tongues of fire against the background of green fir. Beneath them were piles of presents done up in silver paper tied with red ribbon.

“It is so lovely!” Zosina cried. “You have done all this for me?”

“You are my Christmas bride,” he said, “and I knew when you saw it you would look as you do now, like a child seeing a Fairy tale coming true.”

There was a tenderness in his voice that made her press her cheek against his shoulder. Then he said,

“Tonight, my darling, you are only a child and not yet a woman and that is why I want you to think that I am the Prince of your heart, just as you are the Queen of mine.”

“That is what I – want to be,” Zosina said. “Oh, Sándor, this is so wonderful – so magical that I am afraid I shall – wake up and find it is – all a dream.”

“You will never wake up,” he said in his deep voice. “This is the happy ending we neither of us expected to have, but we should have had more faith. Fairy stories always end happily.”

He pulled Zosina into his arms as he spoke and kissed her until she felt that the little candles swung round them and yet their light was in her heart, flickering through her body.

“I love you! I adore you!” she wanted to say, but his lips held her captive.

“Can I open my presents?” she asked, when she could speak.

“Tomorrow.”

“There are so many – I wish I had more for you.” “You can give me the one present I want more than anything else in the world.”

“What is that?”

“Yourself.”

She blushed and hid her face against his shoulder. He kissed her hair and said,

“I love you! God how much I love you!”

She heard the passion in his voice and saw, as she looked up, there was fire in his eyes.

For a moment they were both very still. Then he said hoarsely,

“I adore you! I worship you, my lovely one, but I also want you unbearably! I have waited a long time.”

“I – want you – too,” Zosina whispered.

He pulled her fiercely against him and then checked himself to say,

“I will be very gentle, my adorable, innocent, little bride, but you are mine – mine, as you were meant to be, for ever and eternity.”

“I want to be yours – Oh! Sándor – love me and make me – love you as you want to be – loved.”

He could hardly hear the words, but they were said and with his arms round her he opened the door of the boudoir and drew her into the bedroom.

Here too there were no large candles as there had been when she dressed for dinner, but only tiny Christmas ones on the mantelpiece and on the table and the light from them made the room, with its huge carved and canopied bed, seem enchanted.

She looked at Sándor, feeling that he was waiting and he smiled as if he understood and said,

“No lady’s maids tonight my lovely precious little wife, just you and I.”

He was kissing her again, kissing her as he took the necklace she had worn at dinner from her neck and the diamond stars from her hair, then the large brooch from the front of her bodice.

He undid her gown and, as it fell to the ground in a froth of tulle, he breathed,

“You are so beautiful, so perfect. I am afraid I too am dreaming – you are not real.”

“I am – real!”

It was hard to speak because of the wild excitement that was coursing through her. It was like little tongues of fire flickering in every part of her body.

Yet because he was looking at her, she felt shy and tried to cover her breasts with her hands. He understood and said,

“My angel – I would not frighten you, but there can be no barriers between us, no shyness because you are mine and I am yours. Tell me that is true.”

Zosina pressed herself against him crying,

“I – am yours –
all – yours
!”

The King made a sound of triumph and lifted her up in his arms.

She felt as if he carried her into a very special fairyland, a land which contained a radiant and unbelievable happiness, where there was no darkness, no fear, but only him.

“I love – you!” she whispered, as her head fell back on the soft pillows.

Then she thought that he had left her, but a moment later he was beside her and holding her close in his arms, closer and still closer until they were no longer two people, but one.

She was a bride not of a King, but of the man whose heart was her heart, whose soul was her soul and who would rule forever a world which belonged only to them both.

A world of love.

The Barbara Cartland Eternal Collection is the unique opportunity to collect as ebooks all five hundred of the timeless beautiful romantic novels written by the world’s most celebrated and enduring romantic author.

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1. Elizabethan Lover
   
2. The Little Pretender
   
3. A Ghost in Monte Carlo
   
4. A Duel of Hearts
   
5. The Saint and the Sinner
   
6. The Penniless Peer
   
7. The Proud Princess
   
8. The Dare-Devil Duke
   
9. Diona and a Dalmatian
   
10. A Shaft of Sunlight
    
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15. The Temptation of Torilla
    
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25. Revenge of the Heart
    
26. The Unbreakable Spell
    
27. Never Laugh at Love
    
28. Bride to a Brigand
    
29. Lucifer and the Angel
    
30. Journey to a Star
    
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33. No Escape from Love
    
34. Dollars for the duke
    
35. Pure and Untouched
    
36. Secrets
    
37. Fire in the Blood
    
38. Love, Lies and Marriage
    
39. The Ghost who Fell in Love
    
40. Hungry for Love
    
41. The Wild Cry of Love
    
42. The Blue-eyed Witch
    
43. The Punishment of a Vixen
    
44. The Secret of the Glen
    
45. Bride to the King
    
46. For All Eternity
    

Barbara Cartland, who sadly died in May 2000 at the grand age of ninety eight, remains one of the world’s most famous romantic novelists.  With worldwide sales of over one billion, her outstanding 723 books have been translated into thirty six different languages, to be enjoyed by readers of romance globally.

Writing her first book ‘Jigsaw’ at the age of 21, Barbara became an immediate bestseller.  Building upon this initial success, she wrote continuously throughout her life, producing bestsellers for an astonishing 76 years.  In addition to Barbara Cartland’s legion of fans in the UK and across Europe, her books have always been immensely popular in the USA.  In 1976 she achieved the unprecedented feat of having books at numbers 1 & 2 in the prestigious B. Dalton Bookseller bestsellers list.

Although she is often referred to as the ‘Queen of Romance’, Barbara Cartland also wrote several historical biographies, six autobiographies and numerous theatrical plays as well as books on life, love, health and cookery.  Becoming one of Britain’s most popular media personalities and dressed in her trademark pink, Barbara spoke on radio and television about social and political issues, as well as making many public appearances.

In 1991 she became a Dame of the Order of the British Empire for her contribution to literature and her work for humanitarian and charitable causes.

Known for her glamour, style, and vitality Barbara Cartland became a legend in her own lifetime.  Best remembered for her wonderful romantic novels and loved by millions of readers worldwide, her books remain treasured for their heroic heroes, plucky heroines and traditional values.  But above all, it was Barbara Cartland’s overriding belief in the positive power of love to help, heal and improve the quality of life for everyone that made her truly unique.

BRIDE TO THE KING

Barbara Cartland

Barbara Cartland Ebooks Ltd

This edition © 2013

Copyright Cartland Promotions 1979

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