The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren

by Hollingsworth, Suzette

  “We are so pleased you could join us, your highness,” Lady Ravensdale interjected with an expression of charity.

  Alejandro was not accustomed to genuine kindness. Certainly her daughter the high priestess of the black arts had not extended that regard.

  “It is unusual for the peerage to have a daughter on the stage, is it not?” Lady Ravensdale added gently.

  Alejandro was surprised at her directness. It wouldn’t be difficult to guess his thoughts, but addressing his unspoken thoughts was outside the norms of etiquette.

  But everything was outside the norm in this family, and certainly surprise was the order of the day. Unfortunately Alejandro, unlike Lady Ravensdale, was unable to find words.

  “It is unconventional,” Alejandro said, nodding gravely but respectfully, as if deeply interested in the subject. He no doubt had the expression of a rabbit wandering into the tiger’s den.

  “Lady Nicolette is in possession of such an extraordinary gift we could not let social convention interfere with her sharing that gift. Don't you agree?” Lady Ravensdale asked with sincerity.

  I agree that the world has turned upside down and nothing has made any sense since the day I met the woman in black. Looking at Lady Ravensdale, he saw little resemblance. Are you certain Nicolette is your daughter, my lady? Have you considered that she might be Lucifer’s daughter?

  Alejandro glanced at Lord Ravensdale who eyed his daughter suspiciously.

  Ah, the father is not fooled by her.

  Or is he? Nicolette was too beautiful, not to mention devious, to be permitted out in company. And yet she had been given full reign.

  “Most certainly not, Lady Ravensdale,” Esteban interjected with finesse, coming quickly to his aid. “It would have been a crime to hide such an extraordinary gift.”

  Just as spanking Nicolette would be, but the idea appealed to Alejandro at the moment. He glanced at Nicolette, who seemed to be in the best of spirits.

  Thank the saints, God forbid that she should experience even a moment's displeasure or discomfort as she destroys those around her.

  Alejandro cast a grateful glance upon Esteban, making a mental note to have him knighted.

  The prince allowed his eyes to rest on the scheming enchantress for a moment. She wore a low-necked evening costume—he would not call it a gown—of copper spangled lavender chiffon, heavily embroidered and accented with spangle fringe along the sleeves, hem, and bodice. The fringe, gauze, and considerable hand embroidery in combination made it a dress the Maharini could proudly wear.

  I doubt the Maharini would look as well in it, however. Nicolette…that is Lady Nicolette…is ravishing, but far too exotic in appearance for whatever occasion this is.

  Crucify the Monarchy Day, no doubt.

  “Would you care to take my arm, your highness?” Lady Ravensdale asked. “I would be most honored to lead you into dinner. There are several notables of state anxious to meet you.”

  “I would be delighted, Lady Ravensdale,” Alejandro managed to mumble.

  Despite Alejandro’s tribulations at her hand, his heart went out to her unfortunate parents. If anyone deserved his pity, they did: Nicolette could not be contained. Even her hair was exotic and wild: orange and lavender flowers decorated a bun at the nape of her neck, almost flamenco in appearance with dark tendrils framing her ivory complexion. She wore a black velvet choker with an amethyst brooch.

  She was definitely at her hot-blooded best this evening, raring for a fight.

  I will not give her the pleasure. Though he relished her exuberance and intensity, he began to grow weary of her constant and unrelenting juvenile games. He might greatly value her talent and her gift, but he would not yield to her childish behavior.

  I do not know why God gave her the gift of the angels, but she is no angel.

  Recovering from his state of shock through a sheer act of will, Alejandro offered his other arm to Nicolette, who deigned to accept it.

  How very good of her. The senorita’s gracious condescension warms the heart.

  As she took his arm, he felt a jarring of his senses, as if he were a schoolboy again.

  He felt in a daze. She does not need to sing in order to support herself. She had no need of a living. In fact, singing on the stage was a great detriment to both herself and her family.

  Ridiculous. Alejandro stole a glance at Nicolette. He couldn't make sense of this: he had thought of her in such a way for many days now, and suddenly nothing was comprehensible.

  But it all fit in a peculiar sort of way. She had always acted as if she considered herself to be of royal blood. In fact, she generally made him feel as if she were lowering herself to speak with him.

  She expected him to behave towards her as if she were a queen. And punished him if he did not.

  This was one more of her lessons aimed toward him: she had given him the opportunity to escort her. He had refused, and now he must pay the price for that decision.

  “Nicolette sings under a stage name which preserves her identity to some degree,” Lady Ravensdale continued. “And she is not known yet. But it cannot be long until the association is widely known.”

  “I wouldn't think so,” he murmured. It was impossible for Nicolette to remain in hiding. All eyes must be on her.

  “We don't ordinarily reveal the connection, but neither do we conceal it. I think it best to be honest and to lay all one's cards on the table, don't you, your highness?” Lady Ravensdale asked, her gaze penetrating.

  “Absolutely, Lady Ravensdale.” Alejandro glanced pointedly at Nicolette. “I wish everyone were honest.”

  “When the world does not judge according to appearances, no doubt everyone will be,” Nicolette remarked flippantly.

  “If everyone waited for approval to live true to one's values it would be a shameless society.” He did not return his gaze to her; he would not give her the satisfaction.

  Nicolette laughed lightheartedly. “I never wait for anything.”

  “It might be to one’s advantage to wait on one’s tongue on occasion,” he murmured. Nicolette Huntington might be a peer of the realm, but she was far from equal in birth to himself, though one would never guess it from her demeanor.

  And yet, in truth, with her birth, her looks, and her fortune she could have married well. Exceedingly well.

  What was Ravensdale? An earl? Passable. The combination of his rank and his profession was enough to gain his daughter entrance into the right circles. And, with that entrance, the moment one saw her, one was smitten. She could have married a person of very high rank indeed. Possibly even a…sovereign ruler.

  But no longer. Now that she had entered into a life on the stage it was impossible.

  The stage aside, he could not consider marrying someone of Lady Nicolette’s station: nothing less than a princess would be Spain's due. España badly needed a powerful alliance, and the Spanish monarchy in particular was on shaky ground. There was a type of individual he was expected to marry.

  But a person of high rank in a strong position who had no need of an alliance, that was a different matter…

  Ave Maria, why am I analyzing the hoyden's marriage prospects? Of what possible concern could it be to him? He wouldn't marry this sorceress if she were the last woman on earth.

  She lived to torture him. Let her marry some poor sot who enjoyed impalement.

  He let his eyes rest on her ivory skin for a moment, and he wished he hadn't. So white against her coal black hair. Ordinarily he did not like pale women, but there was nothing pale about Lady Nicolette.

  And what do I know of her values, her character?

  Too much. Alejandro wished he might only hear her sing and know nothing about her. So far as he could tell, Nicolette only lived to please herself. The fact that she sang on the stage revealed quite poignantly she had no regard for her father's profession.

  “Lady Ravensdale, your parents reside in England?” Curiosity, that's all it was. And polite conversation, of cours
e. He had allowed himself to be tongue-tied for too long.

  “Yes, your highness. My father is Dr. Jonathan Stanton—you will know of him, he along with his collegue Hippolyte Pixii invented the four-stroke piston engine, transporting the world into the technological age we now find ourselves in—and my mother was Lady Elaina Lancaster prior to her marriage. My grandfather was the Duke of Salford. My husband, whom you have just met, is, of course, the fifth Earl of Ravensdale.”

  “A family which has had an impact on the world,” he remarked.

  Lady Nicolette smiled smugly at Alejandro.

  “All have merely pursued their interests with a vehemence,” Lady Ravensdale said behind them. “It is a family characteristic.”

  “I believe you lived in Tibet for some years,” Alejandro said.

  “Indeed, we have led a fascinating life.” Lady Ravensdale nodded warmly. “My husband and Lady Nicolette share a gift for languages. They are both fluent in Spanish, which you no doubt have observed.”

  “Unfortunately, Lady Nicolette has told me very little about herself, her family, her education, and her interests,” Alejandro said. “Our acquaintance is of a short duration.”

  And she has been too busy inflicting agony to share her academic interests with a mere crown prince.

  “That is indeed odd for one so talkative, and so desirous of the limelight,” Lady Ravensdale considered.

  “I confess I am perplexed as to why Lady Nicolette took such great pains to hide her true identity from me.”

  He observed Nicolette bite her lip beside him.

  Good. Let her be private when I might wish it.

  As they entered the dining room, Alejandro was somewhat startled by the vivid color. The typical long Louis XV table and crystal chandelier lay before him. But the walls were painted in a vivid red-orange color; arrangements of red flowers were on the side tables and the white marble fireplace.

  Bouquets of lavender-blue graced the long table. Candles were lit and a glow was cast upon the walls. Over the fireplace was a painting of Lady Ravensdale, Nicolette, and a boy child favoring Lord Ravensdale.

  Both children appeared to favor their father, in fact. Apparently in temperament as well as in looks from what he had seen of Lady Ravensdale.

  Let's see: gentile and proper—or hoydenish and vain. In truth, it was difficult to believe the fragile, blonde Lady Ravensdale had raised the diva.

  One thing Alejandro could say, he was far from bored. Glancing quickly from the decor to the persons present, he observed there were several standing in attendance, indicating he was the guest of honor. And yet, he recognized their importance at once.

  “The President of France, Émile Loubet, and his wife Marie Louise, are well known to you,” Lord Ravensdale remarked, beginning the introductions.

  “It is the greatest pleasure always, President and Mrs. Loubet,” Alejandro nodded and bowed deeply, as did Loubet. Madame Loubet curtseyed. Alejandro motioned to his friend, “You will remember Senor Esteban.”

  Alejandro reflected that the years had not been as good to Madame Loubet as to her husband, feeling some concern for her health. Émile was vigorous and dashingly handsome with a full head of white hair and deep blue eyes while Madame Loubet looked almost elderly. Possibly it was Émile's farmer peasant upbringing, while Marie Louise was the daughter of the wealthiest manufacturer in Marsannes.

  Born a peasant and now the President of France.

  Does it offend you, my prince? His eye caught Nicolette's and he was shocked to find himself guessing what she was thinking.

  Now I am hearing things. She has driven me to madness.

  “May I introduce Émile Combes, the French Prime Minister,” Lord Ravensdale continued. Alejandro smiled and bowed slightly. Combes held views in great opposition to his own. Even so, the prime minister was an intelligent man, being in possession of a degree in medicine in addition to his political acumen.

  “You are acquainted with Théophile Delcassé, the Minister of Foreign Affairs,” Lord Ravensdale motioned, and “Madame Delcassé.”

  “My countrymen and I are forever indebted to Monsieur Delcassé.” Alejandro smiled broadly. “A brilliant statesman.”

  This was an understatement. It was well known Delcassé had acted as mediator between the United States of America and Spain, bringing the peace negotiations to a successful conclusion. It was not a subject which Alejandro wished revisited, but he had the greatest respect for Delcassé, who did not have the appearance one would expect of a diplomatic genius. He was a short, stocky man who wore his hair very short and in grand disarray, had a large bushy moustache, and balanced his glasses on his nose. Delcassé had the expression of a bull-dog. A pleasant bull-dog, but not one with which to tangle.

  Delcassé stood in great disproportion next to his wife, a tall, full-figured lady in the Nordic vein, elaborately gowned as if she were royalty: British royalty, unlike Lady Nicolette who didn't know what country she was in. Madame Delcassé gazed down upon her spouse with manifest amour.

  “Very true,” agreed Lord Ravensdale. “Delcassé concluded the Entente Cordiale, representing France, while I represented Great Britain.”

  “I did a miserable job. Your country received the better end of the bargain, Lord Ravensdale,” said Monsieur Delcassé. Everyone laughed.

  “I am in France, so it would be dangerous to disagree with your Excellency.” Lord Ravensdale chuckled before turning to an older couple unknown to Alejandro. “Your highness, may I present my wife's parents, Dr. Jonathan Stanton and Lady Elaina.”

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” Alejandro bowed. “Lady Elaina, I can't help but be struck by the fact that you are the matriarch of a family of accomplished and interesting women.”

  “I would be lying if I disagreed with you.” Lady Elaina smiled widely and tilted her chin towards him as she curtseyed, her approval apparent. She was extravagantly dressed and did not look old enough to have a full-grown granddaughter.

  “This is Esteban Xalvador, Prince Alejandro’s advisor.” Esteban bowed to the party.

  Ravensdale motioned to the remaining gentleman, “Hamilton Bromberg, a lawyer from the Americas and a friend of Combes'.” Mr. Bromberg was plainly irritated at being introduced last. Americans were disdainful of hierarchy and exaggerated their own importance, in Alejandro’s experience.

  “Shall we be seated for dinner, your highness?” Lady Ravensdale graciously drew him to his place at the table. She surprised him. She was a small blonde in a pink gown resplendent with flounces and white lace and gold threads—she looked rather like spun cotton candy—

  looking up at him with intelligent eyes, her manner completely at ease.

  Almost in a whisper, she added, “Prince Alejandro, I do wish to thank you for the kindness you have shown Lady Nicolette, as yet unbeknownst to my husband. Your patronage…without your influence and notoriety…without you, Nicolette's singing career might have been destroyed.”

  Nicolette shot him a look of daggers rather than of appreciation, causing Lady Ravensdale to raise her eyebrows.

  “Think nothing of it, Lady Ravensdale.” Alejandro bowed most gracefully, displaying as much deference as he could muster. “To be the recipient of Lady Nicolette's sweet disposition is more than reward enough for me.”

  28

  Watch out

  “If you don’t love me,

  I love you

  And if I love you…

  Watch out for yourself!”

  —CARMEN by Georges Bizet

  “Ouch!”

  Someone kicked me under the table! Is there a person alive who actually has the audacity to kick the heir to the Spanish throne deliberately?

  “Excuse me! Oh I am sorry, your highness,” Nicolette whispered.

  He gave milady his haughtiest expression of disapproval.

  Is it necessary for me to wear my royal robes? Then perhaps his hostess would show him the respect due to a street beggar.

  That would
be an improvement over his current situation. Was there no limit to the atrocities which abounded in this corrupt city?

  But truly, is it fair to blame Paris for Lady Nicolette? No one entity could claim her. Only a bevy of demons.

  “Think nothing of it, Lady Nicolette. I would expect nothing less from you.”

  Good. The curve of her lips took a decided downturn. She regained her composure quickly, however.

  “Oh, la! I don’t doubt it. Your expectation of me being that I am not fit for polite society.” She laughed, almost as if she were deliberately being provocative rather than feeling the embarrassment which was her due. “One tends to fulfill the expectations others have of them.”

  “That would be a dream come true for me.”

  “Women in my profession are not subtle in our advances, you know.”

  “Advances?” he asked in low tones, raising one eyebrow. “The day you make an advance towards me will be the day the Kaiser sings me a lullaby.”

  She giggled, and it seemed to Alejandro that her pleasure might be genuine.

  Thank the heavens. One hated to see Nicolette lacking in amusement. “And may one inquire where your mind was when it lost track of your foot, Lady Nicolette?”

  “I was reflecting on the presumption of judging someone one does not know,” she murmured discretely, as if the two of them were having a proper discussion. But Alejandro knew the truth: he was being served as the main course, much like Salome requested John the Baptist’s head on a silver platter.

  The fire returned to Nicolette’s eyes and her luscious ruby red lips formed a wide smile.

  Preparing to eat the main course, no doubt.

  Lady Ravensdale rang the crystal bell, to signal the start to dinner. The servants began to serve the soup, a white asparagus variety.

  Alejandro glanced down the long mahogany table, just under a magnificent crystal chandelier. The table’s width provided some privacy. Lady Ravensdale to his left was conversing with her husband, and Nicolette, to his right seemed intent upon monopolizing his attention. There was a large lavender hydrangea bouquet in front of them, which he moved behind strategically.