The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren [Daughters of the Empire 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

Daughters of the Empire 2

The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren

Love finds him, in the most devastating manner possible.

In the terror and shock of being abandoned by his beloved family, the young Prince Alejandro denies his feelings and his very being, bonding irrevocably to the only thing he has left—España. As he was born and bred to do, Alejandro gives his life to Spain. Now grown, Prince Alejandro is charming, handsome, the most powerful man in his country—and unable to connect to either himself or anyone else.

It’s the clash of the titan egos between a Parisian diva opera singer and the crown prince of Spain. The prince cannot tolerate Nicolette when she speaks, but he must confront the bizarre truth that when she sings, this prima donna is the miraculous key to his transformation.

Genre:
Historical
Length:
122,991 words

THE SERENADE:

THE PRINCE AND THE SIREN

Daughters of the Empire 2

Suzette Hollingsworth

ROMANCE

www.BookStrand.com

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A SIREN-BOOKSTRAND TITLE

IMPRINT: Romance

THE SERENADE: THE PRINCE AND THE SIREN

Copyright © 2012 by Suzette Hollingsworth

E-book ISBN: 1-61926-201-0

First E-book Publication: March 2012

Cover design by Jinger Heaston

All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION

To King Juan Carlos, who saved a country and returned Spain to her people

To Jolene Kelly, Mary Jo Dugaw, Mary Denison & Charlsie Sterry, sopranos who once gave me a magical day

And to Harvey Gover, who truly was my “Esteban”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The hero of
The Serenade
is a fictionalized prince of Spain, as is the royal family, inspired by the unbelievable life of the current king of Spain, King Juan Carlos, Franco’s heir who shocked everyone by relinquishing his role as dictator and turning Spain into a democratic monarchy at great personal peril. Paul Preston wrote the marvelous page-turner,
Juan Carlos: Steering Spain from Dictatorship to Democracy
.

Well-brought-up girls with titled fathers did not become opera singers around the turn of the twentieth century. And yet I found one who did just that! A more delightful person with a more interesting life would be difficult to find:
The Extraordinary Operatic Adventures of Blanche Arral
by Blanche Arral and Ira Glackens.

This novel is a blend of historic and imaginary figures and alternate and actual plots, and I hope to take you on an amazing journey. But whatever I might write is not more fantastic than what actually did happen.

SUZETTE HOLLINGSWORTH

Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

Love is a rebellious bird that no one can tame…

—Georges Bizet,
Carmen

Paris Opera House

September 4, 1903

Anticipation permeated the air like a sweet frosting drizzled across a warm cake. It was in the tinkling of champagne glasses, the shimmer of satin, and the nervous chatter among the social elite of Paris. It was in the sparkle of a thousand candelabras and the exhibitionist tendencies of the fashionable. It was woven into the heavy, red-velvet curtain, which began to rise and, with it, the impatient murmurs of expectancy.

Alejandro de Bonifácio, the crown prince of Spain, had his back to a magnificent stage framed by four stories of private opera boxes affordable only to the very rich—and available to an even smaller clientele.

“Please, Your Highness, grace us with the royal pronouncement. What is your opinion thus far?” pleaded le comte de Saint-Cyr, waving a ruby-laden finger toward the stage, his bobbing blond curls adding redundant twinkle to vividly blue eyes. Seated with the prince in the private box were his bodyguard and his few select friends, for the most part sons of high-ranking Parisian officials.

“I wonder how many royal navy men are such arts aficionados?” murmured le duc de Valentinois while winking at Saint-Cyr, evidencing their long-standing friendship.

“As many as are crown princes, I suspect.” Saint-Cyr chuckled. “What do you say, Alejandro? Do you not find this music sinfully alluring?”

Being in one of the choice box seats, Prince Alejandro and his party were on the first level, so close to the stage that they might have leaned over the balcony and touched the singers. Alejandro detested being so close, but it was Saint-Cyr’s box, and the count of Saint-Cyr had always to be at the height of fashion.

“It has a certain musical novelty,” Prince Alejandro finally offered, wishing his companions’ attentions were directed elsewhere, but it appeared no one would continue on with their trifling chatter until he deigned to answer.

Studying his cards with boredom, Prince Alejandro took another sip of fine champagne, which he mentally assessed as flat despite its price tag of one hundred francs per bottle. He glanced momentarily at his exquisitely ornate surroundings—the Louis XVI card table, plush chairs, fresh flowers, chilling champagne, and hors d’oeuvres created less than an hour ago by
Le Meurice’s top chefs
. Prince Alejandro did not need to look further to see that which he already knew. Everything in the Palais Garnier opera house sparkled to excess. The three-tier crystal chandelier, the blaze of lit candles, the glistening diamonds on the straining white necks of the overcurious upper classes.

“Ah, the voices join the orchestra,” Valentinois remarked as the overture of the opera concluded and the chorus entered the stage, singing. “This will turn your head, Alejandro,” promised le duc de Valentinois.

“That would require an act of God with this musical score,” he replied without so much as a glance. “I prefer the classics. This is much too modern for my taste.”

“You don’t like the
art nouveau
, Your Highness?” asked Gaston Leroux, disbelieving. Leroux was a friend of Saint-Cyr’s and never one to be dissuaded from a thorough enjoyment of the arts—ordinarily his one redeeming feature, in Alejandro’s mind.

“I have no objection to
art nouveau,
though I find it silly—and dull. This I would scarcely call
art nouveau
, however,” replied Alejandro with disinterest. He was grateful for his capacity for focus. The woman in black whom he had met in the Grand Foyer had him far more agitated than he wished to admit, and the card game was a welcome diversion. “Who is the composer?”

“Bizet,” answered Leroux.

“
Bizet
?” Alejandro considered. “Who is he? What unfortunate country claims him as its native son? Did he study music? The composition has a foreign sound to it. Not French—
that is good
—even though it is sung in French—
that is bad
—but not Spanish or Italian either. What is it?”