Charming the prince, p.1
Charming the Prince, page 1
CHARMING THE PRINCE
A DICKENS HOLIDAY ROMANCE
MADDIE JAMES
CONTENTS
Charming the Prince
Charming the Prince
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
About Maddie James
CHARMING THE PRINCE
Maddie James
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A Dickens Holiday Romance
Copyright © 2022 Maddie James
Charming the Prince
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62237-538-7
Print ISBN: 978-1-62237-540-0
Cover by Jacobs Ink, LLC
Editor: Deelylah Mullin
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All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work, in whole or part, by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, is illegal and forbidden.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Characters, settings, names, and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination and bear no resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, places or settings, and/or occurrences. Any incidences of resemblance are purely coincidental.
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This edition published by Turquoise Morning, LLC., DBA Jacobs Ink, LLC., PO Box 20, New Holland, OH 43145.
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CHARMING THE PRINCE
Krissy Kringle’s dream of owning her own business and settling into a community with her ten-year-old daughter, Merry, came alive when she moved to the Christmas village of Dickens. The dream happened with hard work, sacrifice, and a bucket-load of luck—but Kringle’s Diner now exists, and business is booming, even if she is beyond weary doing the work of three people.
So, she hires a man who frequents the diner. He needs the work, or so it seems. Thing is, he comes with a huge Bernese Mountain dog named Prince, who takes up residence in the corner booth every day with Merry. Krissy tells herself she can deal with it—help in the kitchen trumps a few dog germs. Right?
Contrary to popular belief around Dickens, Max Alexander (aka Alex Maxwell) is not homeless, but royalty. Alexander Henrik Vincent Maxwell III, Prince of Beldova, heir apparent to the throne, is searching for something. Incognito, of course. That “something” is Krissy.
Twenty years earlier, as awkward pre-teens, the two shared a magical summer vacation on a lake in upstate Wisconsin. The next year, both their lives changed forever. Finding Krissy, Alex thinks, may help him ground him before he takes a permanent step toward becoming King.
They happily work together for several weeks, and their attraction for each other grows, but Alex doesn’t tell Krissy he is the boy from the lake. He understands her need for community with the security of home. His future is uncertain. When he must abruptly leave Dickens and return to Beldova, he gifts Prince to Merry and Krissy, with a promise to return.
A rapid unraveling of withheld truths entangles their shared reality like Christmas lights dumped in a box. Can they untangle the omissions and half-truths—along with their feelings for one another—and recover the magic of that one special summer by Christmas?
CHAPTER 1
Summer, Wisconsin
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“You can’t hide here forever, Alex.”
Ignoring his sister, Alexander Maxwell shifted on the sofa and stared at his laptop screen. I don’t need the reminder, Anja. Instead, he turned up the sound on the news report streaming through his computer. “I want to hear this.”
“You should. Things are heating up.”
“I do keep up with what is happening at home.”
“Do you? Beldova needs you right now.”
The tone of her voice made him turn and face her, making full and direct eye contact. Not that he’d been avoiding doing so. Well, perhaps. “I do. It’s my responsibility and duty, and I take that seriously.”
Anja Karin Maxwell Nilsson, his younger sister and self-appointed protector, smirked and crossed her arms over her chest, slouching slightly to one side. The slouch was unlike her. Royals don’t slouch. Even if they were tired.
He’d not expected her—but that was just like Anja, to do the unexpected. She wasn’t convinced that anything he’d done in the past six months was for the good of family or country. But she didn’t understand everything, didn’t have all the pieces to the puzzle—did anyone, truly?—so he took her tone with a grain of salt.
“Get settled in your room?”
She nodded. “I did. It looks the same.”
“Everything is the same.”
“Here, perhaps. But not at home.”
“Let’s not go there, yet.”
She ignored that. “Have you spoken with anyone the past two weeks?”
He had. “I speak daily with Saskia.”
“Anyone else?”
Saskia Johansson, the prime minister of his small European country, was his main contact, and the only person he needed to deal with during these challenging times. Too many cooks spoiled the soup, or so he’d heard his father say on more than one occasion. He’d also exchanged several emails with a few members of parliament who had reached out, but he gave them less precedence.
No need to worry. He was up to speed. And he wasn’t going to discuss it yet with Anja. “Saskia keeps me informed.”
The streaming newsfeed droned from the computer. Anja was concerned but there was no need. He was fine. Things at home would settle down. They always do. After a moment of tit-for-tat, brother-sister staring, he changed the subject. “Did Mother send you?”
“She did not. I came of my own accord.” Anja broke the stare then and settled into a soft, overstuffed chair in the corner. She picked at a crocheted doily. “Did you have someone clean?”
“I did.”
“It looks good in here.” She glanced about and nodded. “It feels good here. Comfortable. Familiar. Safe.” Her eyes held a faraway look.
“It’s where I need to be right now.”
“But what about this pilgrimage, or such, you are talking about? I don’t understand. Why?”
Shrugging, Alex sat up a little, his back straighter. “I’m feeling hemmed in, Anja. What with everything that’s happened the past few months, and the uncertain future… Well. You know when that happens, I need to be outside, in the wilderness.”
She studied him. “But why here? You can hike the mountains all you want at home. And who hikes in Wisconsin, anyway?”
“Plenty of people do.” He shifted in his seat. “I needed to come here first to ground myself somewhat. I’ll set off on a walkabout in a week or so.”
“It’s kind of dangerous and risky here in the States, don’t you think? It’s not like going on a walk in Europe.”
“It’s a little trickier, but I’ll be fine.”
Anja didn’t say anything. He watched her peruse the living room and all the knick-knacks he had painstakingly washed and dusted over the past six weeks. A slow smiled traveled over her face and her jaw visibly relaxed. “I used to love coming here.”
“Me too.”
She rose and crossed the room to a row of built-in bookshelves. Gingerly, she traced the titles on some of the old leather-bound volumes. “Pops loved his books.”
“Yes. That he did.”
“And Nana loved her kitchen.”
“It still looks the same.”
“I’m sure the breakfasts aren’t the same.”
Smiling at the memory of big country breakfasts, Alex could almost smell the food in the kitchen. Sometimes there’d be eggs, sausages, potatoes, biscuits, and gravy. Other times pancakes with berry toppings or apple fritters. “No one cooked breakfast like Nana.”
“Not even Eloise.”
At that, Alex guffawed. “Truth!”
Anja turned, her face animated, and burst out in laughter, too. “Soft-boiled egg, wheat toast with jam, and orange quarters. The Eloise Special.”
“But it’s what Dad wanted and so we all had to eat it.”
“Because Eloise didn’t want to make breakfast to order. What was it she said once when you asked for pancakes?”
Alex snickered. “Oh yes. I was being prickly. I think I was twelve and we’d just returned from spending a few weeks with Pops and Nana, where of course, we’d been spoiled by them. Remember that pancake house up in the northern part of the state? Near the lake house at Butternut Falls?”
“I do remember. Pops loved going there. You asked Eloise that next week for blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup and a side of butter with mile-high whipped cream on top.” Anja grinned. “Do you remember that little upturn of Daddy’s mouth at the look on Eloise’s face?”
“I believe that was a royal inward snicker, my sister. And yes, I do remember.”
Anja rushed closer and sat beside him on the sofa. “And do you remember what she said?”
“Vividly.” Alex cleared his throat and straightened his back, mimicking her. “Master Alexander. I am not a short-order cook.” He chuckled. “Then she muttered something as she left about the children running feral while they were in the states. Pancakes, indeed!”
Anja giggled. “Then she returned with The Eloise Special for everyone. Excep
Slouching back on the sofa, Alex sighed. “And by the next summer both Nana and Pops were gone, and we’ve been doomed to a soft-boiled life ever since.”
Anja sighed. “That last summer was the best one.”
“Yes. In so many ways.” Alex gave in to the memory. His throat closed a little. It was the best, by far. He sometimes wondered if he’d known it would be the last, would his awkward preteen self have done a few things differently. “I’d had no clue at the time it would be the last one.”
“I miss those days. All of them. Life just isn’t the same anymore.”
He sat there, staring at the computer screen, seeing nothing, really. “No. No, it isn’t.” The newsfeed had stopped, so he shut the laptop. He’d catch up with things there later. With a sigh, he turned to Anja. “I should fix you something to eat. You must have been flying for days.”
She shrugged and jerked a quick nod. “I took the last flight out of Stockholm to London night before last, and then on to New York yesterday morning. The flight to Chicago last night, and the drive up here this morning. I’ve not had a good meal in a couple of days—so yes, I’m famished.”
Alex stood, picking up his laptop. “Blueberry pancakes? I’ll drive.”
Anja stood, ready to go, it seemed. “Absolutely.” She hugged him hard. “It’s so good to see you, Alex. I’ve missed you. We have lots to discuss.”
Alex hugged her tight, then set her at arm’s length. “You, too. I suppose it’s time to talk. I’m glad you are here. And thank you for not bringing Mother.”
The expression that raced across his sister’s face then startled him.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, no. Not wrong. Not really. Mother has been very preoccupied lately, and all, but….”
“Is she okay?”
Anja bit her lip and didn’t answer.
“Anja?”
“Can I tell you over pancakes? Please? I’m too tired now to get into it, and would like to nap in the car, if you don’t mind.”
He grasped her hand. “But she’s okay?”
She nodded. “Yes. I think so. Yes.”
“But something is wrong.”
“No, Alex. Not wrong. She’s okay. But something is…different.”
He quite enjoyed driving. It was something he did very little of at home. With Anja napping, Alex let his mind wander as he drove past lakes and dairy farms and woods toward the small town of Butternut Falls. He hoped after all these years, the family-owned diner that specialized in blueberry pancakes, still existed. If not, he was going to have to pull a Plan B, and fast.
Anja wasn’t the only one who was hungry.
The landscape rolled by his window as he set a leisurely pace. The terrain was not unlike that of his home country, Beldova, in places. Both had plentiful lakes with crisp cool waters, ripe with fish. Small farms dotted the horizon, with freshly painted fences and red barns. At home, the barns were a different shape and sometimes colorfully painted—large enough to house the livestock, when needed. Especially dairy cattle. Sheep were plentiful in his homeland. Not so much here.
The biggest difference was that Beldova boasted of mountains to the north and coastal waters to the west, once you left the farming lands. His country was small and sandwiched in-between several larger countries in northeastern Europe, but their resources were rich. Besides farming, fishing was a mainstay for their economy.
Anja barely moved once she’d settled into the passenger seat of his rental vehicle. The drone of tires on pavement always made her sleepy. As a child, she would drift off in the car before they left Castle Maxwell. The tires, coupled with her soft rhythmic snore, also lured Alex into a peaceful state of mind. He liked the quiet and always drove with the radio off. How do people drive with music or books going on in their head?
Too much distraction for him.
While he had already explored several places surrounding Culverville, the small town where his grandparents had lived, he’d not ventured north yet, so this was a treat. He’d also been putting it off, to be honest. Sometimes the memories were overwhelming. However, he looked forward to the pancakes as much as Anja and was surprised when he pulled off the main road and into the parking lot. Deb’s House of Pasta and Pancakes was still there. The weathered sign out front said so. And by the looks of all the cars in the parking lot, it was still a popular place to eat.
“We’re here, Anja.” He nudged her shoulder.
“Hm? Already?”
“It’s been two hours.”
“Goodness.” She straightened and stretched her arms above her head. “I was out like a light.”
“Yes, you were. Hope we can get a booth.”
“I’m sure we can. It’s a big place.”
Alex nodded. “Did you ever wonder why they paired pasta with pancakes? It always seemed so odd to me as a kid.”
Shrugging, Anja gazed at the sign over the door. “Pancakes in the morning, pasta for dinner sounds good to me!” She perused the parking lot. “Wow. So many cars.”
“Yes. Let’s go.” Alex reached for his door handle.
But Anja caught his eye and stared at him for a moment. Then she winked. “Race you!”
Anja gave her car door a good shove and jumped out, catching Alex off guard. She’d always been good at that as kids—getting the jump on him. She was the athlete while he was more of a bookworm. Hiking was the only athletic sport he ever enjoyed, and he was only in competition with himself and his endurance.
Hence, he was always a little slower on the draw.
He watched her for a second as she stumbled, still half-asleep, toward the diner front door, dodging other customers in her path. He could almost hear her giggle, and the thought of that sound made him push his own door open and trot after her, clicking the lock on the car with his key fob as he left.
“Oh no you don’t.”
“You can’t catch me!”
They could never have done something like this in Beldova. The prince and princess would never flaunt themselves, cause a spectacle, or otherwise call attention to themselves. But here, in rural Wisconsin, their silly escapades didn’t even draw a lifted eyebrow.
Probably one of the appeals of getting away to the states when they could.
Anja giggled again as she entered the pancake house, turning and sticking her tongue out. Smiling, he realized how much he’d missed her, and his mother, these past few weeks.
Catching up just inside the door, he heard her speak to a young woman behind a small podium. She sounded a little out of breath. “A booth for two, please, if you have one. In the back if there is one overlooking the lake. And do you still have those fabulous blueberry pancakes?”
The woman smiled and stretched her neck to look over a partition. “I believe we just cleared a booth and yes, we never run out of blueberry pancakes, sweetie.”
Anja whirled and beamed at Alex. “Splendid!”
For several minutes, they perused the massive menu and chatted about this and that. Alex had no clue why they reviewed the menu—they both knew what they wanted. Once they’d ordered, their coffee cups filled to the brim with the piping hot brew, their chatter died down a little. Anja made occasional small talk, and to Alex, it seemed she was avoiding the big subjects as much as he. By the time their pancakes and sausages arrived, both were ready to concentrate on the food and forget the dialogue that needed to happen sooner rather than later.
