The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren [Daughters of the Empire 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (47 page)

“Are you looking forward to seeing the king, Nicolette?” Lady Elaina whispered to her, resplendent in a gown of pink liberty satin and white taffeta glace, a dashing sight against her auburn hair, particularly with a large pink hat tilted on her head.

“The king?” She gulped, turning to her grandmother. “You mean Alejandro.”

“I mean the
king
. Alejandro was the king of Spain from the moment his father died.” Lady Elaina’s pink lips formed a smile. “The coronation ceremonies are a formality only.”

“Indeed. The king.” She felt her legs growing weak, and she tightened her grip on her grandmother’s hand. “I hate to admit it, Grandmamma, but something has been missing from my life ever since he left. Paris, that is.” Despite having known Alejandro for a very short time, he had changed everything in her world. She felt that she was, somehow, not whole without him.

“You who are so independent.” Lady Elaina’s eyebrows raised starkly.

“Something in him reaches out to something in me. That is all.”

“Oh, is that all, my dear? An everyday occurrence for the king of Spain, I should think.” Lady Elaina stopped to glance into the Gasparini Room, intricate designs of inlaid wood swirling across the floor. Stylized vines in silver-and-gold silk embroidery climbed the walls. Nicolette thought she might like to join them.

“One thing is certain, I am glad that he has finally found useful employment,” she murmured under her breath.

The two stared at each other for an instant before bursting into laughter, simultaneously covering their mouths as they approached the royal throne room.

“This is not a new position for the king, my dear.” Lady Elaina lifted the white lace overlay hanging from her wide pink hat and dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. “He has been preparing for this role all his life.”

“Preparing, yes. But he faces enormous challenges.”

“Very true.” Lady Elaina nodded. “Spain never industrialized as did England, Germany, and Italy, and the literacy rate is low. In politics, there is no middle ground, no consensus. Spaniards are a passionate people who never do anything halfway.”

“An apt description of Alejandro,” murmured Nicolette.

“It is Spain’s curse and Her blessing.”

“Somehow, I never envisioned Alejandro in a setting such as this.” Nicolette looked around her, stunned by the opulence of her surroundings. “The ruler…of all of this. It doesn’t seem like him, somehow.”

“The royal chapel was awe-inspiring was it not, my dear?”

“I wonder if singing is allowed in that venue, Grandmamma.”

“You could certainly ask your friend, the king.”

Nicolette nodded distractedly as she pretended to study another painting. There was no shortage of priceless treasures to pretend to look at.
Oh, where is Enrico?
She could use another arm at this time.

As she heard the familiar footsteps, she felt more anxiety than relief.
It is time
. She smoothed the plaited skirt of her aqua voile gown trimmed with gold-cord buttonholes and gold buttons. Shaking her hands, she loosened an abundance of white lace frills, which flowed from the lapped Eton and bell sleeves just beyond the elbow. She checked her aqua box hat perched on layers of shiny black curls, a white feather protruding forward in just the right spot.
She hoped
.

“You look lovely, my dear.” Lady Elaina squeezed her hand. “And it doesn’t matter. He only wants to see
you
.”

“Oh, I don’t think…” She bit her lip.

Caruso rejoined them, and they entered the royal throne room together.

“
Oh my
,” she whispered as the full impact of the throne room hit her. Her eyes searched for Alejandro, but he wasn’t there. Only the queen mother, Maria Katrina de Bonifácio, sat on one of the two thrones at the front of the huge receiving room. The throne reserved for the king was empty.

“The queen is very beautiful,” Lady Elaina noted.

“Hmmm.” She studied the queen mother with interest. The matriarch did not smile. She wore a deep-purple silk evening gown with a square collar and matching jacket, and a blue satin sash across her torso that joined at her hip in a rosette. A diamond-and-platinum tiara was perched on her white-blonde hair. For jewelry she wore pearl earrings, a pearl necklace, and a pendant of some sort.

She was tall and slim with a patrician nose, doing honor to her Austrian ancestry. Nicolette knitted her eyebrows. It struck her as odd that the queen mother of Spain should look so non-Spanish. She had heard the rumors of Alejandro’s Spanish ancestry, supported by his appearance. If true, he was nonetheless related to all of European royalty through his mother. Two royal parents were not needed to maintain the bloodlines—they were all cousins anyway.

She sighed heavily, anxious for Alejandro’s entrance at the same time it filled her with apprehension. Once she had ascertained that he was not present, she let her eyes take in the room, which was opulent in every way. It appeared that the walls were lined in embroidered red velvet. The predominantly blue-and-red carpets were exquisite, as was yet another painting covering the vast expanse of the ceiling from which hung sparkling crystal chandeliers. Gold was everywhere, serving as a mold for paintings, mirrors, and furniture. Four bronze lions framed the two thrones.

They were seated in their respective places, lining the entrance to the throne. She wasn’t sure how she managed to get to her seat.

She caught her breath when she saw him entering through the doors. She knew instantly that she was not alone in her reaction. She could almost hear the collective gasp among the ladies in the room. She felt she would lose her breath even as she bent her knee and her head in unison with all who stood and bowed or curtseyed.

Glancing sideways while in her curtsey, she saw that he wore his ceremonial dress—a naval uniform with gold braids at the shoulders and sleeves, a light-blue sash across his muscular torso, and a red sash around his trim waist. To the left of the blue sash were pinned his medals, and the Order of the Golden Fleece was around his neck. A pendant of some type hung from the point where his collar connected, probably
the
Order of the Immaculate Conception of Vila Viçosa as she knew from her father that the king of Spain was a distinguished knight of this order
. Alejandro wore his brown hair long and wavy as usual, his deep-brown eyes intense as he surveyed the room. She knew the minute he found her.

As he passed by her, Nicolette could not help herself. She looked up through her eyelashes and saw him staring at her. His expression was stoic, but his eyes captured hers and lingered there, holding her as fiercely as if his arms had been around her.

Breathe
. In the moment their eyes met, she felt herself gasping for air. All this from a glance.

She watched him, so comfortable in his role, so comfortable in all this opulence.

They were led separately to be presented to the king and the queen mother.

Monsieur Beaumaris proceeded first. When it was Nicolette’s turn, she felt her knees go weak. She reminded herself that it was Alejandro whom she had once kicked under the table. Had tried to
seduce
. She was not afraid of anyone.

But she was afraid of
something
.

As she gazed into the intensity of his eyes, nothing helped. Somehow she made it to the twin thrones and managed to execute her curtsey. King Alejandro surprised all present by standing and taking her hand to kiss it. The murmurs and gasps were subdued, but she heard them.

“Lady Nicolette,” he stated, his voice so resonant it made her tingle. “I have never been happier to see anyone.” His eyes were full of feeling, and the fervency she saw there took her aback.

“Your Highness,” she murmured, curtseying. She saw the displeasure in his eyes instantly.
Oh, I am a fool!
He had singled her out with a very personal remark, and she was responding as if he were a statue. Why was she treating him as if she did not know him?

“May I introduce my mother?” Suddenly he turned to the queen mother. “Queen Maria Katrina. Mother, this is Lady Nicolette, the Earl of Ravensdale’s daughter.”

Nicolette curtseyed again, still unable to think of a suitable response.

But the queen mother was not so tongue-tied. She nodded, smiling slightly, her movement so slight that her tiara appeared immobile. “We look forward to hearing you sing, Lady Nicolette,” she enunciated distinctly in a pinched voice. Her words were polite, but there was no doubt in Nicolette’s mind that the queen’s intent was to clarify her place. “There are many events planned for the coronation week’s festivities.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she replied warmly. She would not give anyone the pleasure of intimidating her, and the queen’s disdain fanned her courage. Maria Katrina appeared intelligent but disapproving. She wondered if the queen was as out of touch with the changing times as her husband had been. As a result, there were many in Spain who disapproved of the monarchy. There was much unrest in Spain, and stabilizing the country required an innovative and flexible ruler.

Observing them together, it was difficult to believe that this was his mother. There appeared to be little or no bond between them. The queen mother was very protective, but Nicolette supposed that she was protective of the throne rather than of Alejandro.

She suspected that the queen mother thought her a conniving fortune seeker. Nothing could be further from the truth! She would have to be crazy to want anything to do with ruling a country. There was not a more difficult, thankless job on the face of the earth. She lived to be in joy not in headache.

“I have taken the liberty of having you seated next to me at dinner, Lady Nicolette,” Alejandro added with enough shyness to seem completely out of character. “I hope this does not displease you.”

“To the contrary, Your Majesty.” A sudden surge of pleasure flowed through her veins. How vividly she recalled the time when all he wanted from her was to hear her sing. The arrangement was most unexpected, but despite feeling flustered, she was relieved that she had found words and was up to the task of behaving with decorum. At last it appeared that she had not been performing every night on the stage for two years for nothing. “I am most pleased. But I had understood that I would be singing?”

“I have arranged for Caruso to sing this evening,” Alejandro replied uneasily. “If you have no objections, Lady Nicolette.”

“No, of course not, Your Majesty.” She was strangely disinterested in being the performer on this first evening together. And she was happy that Enrico should have the honor. She found that she longed for some private time with Alejandro. All of this required formality was stifling.

“I trust you would be truthful with me, Lady Nicolette?”

“
Always
,” she replied softly. She saw a smile forming at the corners of his mouth, as if to say,
I am the same person
.

It was astonishing—he knew the moment they met that she saw him as the person he was and not as the king—and he knew that it remained so.

“And may I beg the honor of the first two dances at the ball which will follow?”

“I would be…” She stared at Alejandro for a long moment. She wondered if she might stutter under the depth of his gaze, but the words managed to come. “…
delighted
, Your Majesty.”

He smiled warmly, as if he had wondered if she might refuse! An impossibility, to be sure. Even she was not in possession of that degree of effrontery. At least she did not
wish
to refuse. She mustered all of her dignity, found her footing, curtseyed again, and returned to her seat, somewhat stunned by his attentions. Possibly Monsieur Beaumaris was correct. Maybe
she
was
the reason they were here.

Chapter Thirty-Three

I’ll wait for you at midnight