The afternoon passed in a flurry of activity. A luncheon with Princess Marguerite, a trip to the government offices to apply for a wedding license, and a meeting with the bishop of San Montico, who was to perform the nuptial mass.
Wednesday arrived with anxiety. The royal wedding, what Christina had started calling their doom date, was approaching fast. While Richard worked hard and tapped extra resources to get them out of this mess, Christina did her part, but hadn’t had much success. She’d yet to find Richard a suitable bride using the peerage registries. The only bright spot of the day had been when her mother called to say she was stranded at Charles de Gaulle Airport due to a workers’ strike. At least something was going Christina’s way.
In her suite of rooms, she pulled off her gl
