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

Beveled glass, blue damask interior, a glazed front window that allowed the illustrious occupants seated in the enclosed carriage to see forward, top hat storage, and a speaking tube to the driver. The groom sat high on the platform while the passengers sat low inside the carriage, as befitted aristocracy.
    With the disappearance of the sun, the lights were strangely brighter, and the city took on a persona of gaiety to surpass even the daylight hours, a not inconsiderable feat. They passed the Cathedral of Notre Dame, magnificent with an enormous stained-glass rosette above its entryway, then through the Arc de Triomphe to see the Eiffel Tower lit by the night sky.
    “When do these gadflies sleep?” the twenty-seven-year-old crown prince of Spain asked, acutely aware of his surroundings, his eyes fixed on the scene through the carriage window.
    “Indeed, the city of Paris is afire,” his companion remarked distractedly, as if he would have agreed with the prince had he been in a coma, as royalty demanded. Smoothing his tuxedo tails to prevent them from wrinkling, he lifted his opera glasses and proceeded to study the prince.
    “They live for nothing but pleasure and preening in this godless city,” Prince Alejandro pronounced while shaking his head disapprovingly and stretching out his long legs before him, his black silk socks in contrast to his companion’s chartreuse silk socks, which suddenly came under his notice. He frowned at the color.
    “True. It might do you some good were you to join them, Your Highness,” murmured his companion, smiling hesitantly, as if he were not confident of the prince’s response. Was he serious or making an ill-fated attempt at humor?
    “I already attend confession twice a week. I wish to reduce my vices, not increase them.” His eyes rested on the fashionable people strolling along the Left Bank in the moonlight as if it were two o’clock in the afternoon. He felt a strange longing to be one of them, without a care in the world. While at the same time he thought they looked ridiculous.
    “Vice and pleasure are not necessarily the same thing.”
    “Paris is a necessary evil, far too liberal for my taste. Intellectualism and culture permeate daily life. The city has a multinational representation—one can, and will , hear any language one wishes to hear. And several one doesn’t.”
    “Indeed. It is impossible to remain provincial in Paris. She embodies the fashion of the day in every arena—clothing, food, art, even thought . That which is fashionable here will not be seen for years in other cities.”
    “Something to be thankful for,” Alejandro muttered.
    “You don’t feel some amazement, Your Highness, that all this can be found in a single city when it is absent from every other city on the globe?” his companion asked distractedly, straightening the watch chain suspended from his white satin vest while momentarily admiring the charms dangling from the chain.
    “I do not.”
    “I am grieved.”
    Alejandro tapped his gloved fingers on his muscular thigh in disapproval of his escort’s extravagant attire. He, too, was wearing formal dress, but he avoided jewelry outside of pearl cufflinks, the necessary gold pins, and a sapphire ring belonging to Ferdinand VI, which he wore in homage to his ancestors. When the occasion called for it, he wore his royal heirlooms and medals. His naval career had proven his bravery and resulted in one medal after another until his father pulled him from the service, calling his behavior “reckless.”
    Thankfully, this evening was not an affair of state requiring that he flaunt his awards—he never liked distinguishing himself from others with his accoutrement, fidgeting far less with his attire than did his companion. He utilized an exquisite tailor, his dress formed to his athletic build perfectly, and, beyond that, he didn’t dwell upon it.
    “One has to be seen in Paris, that is all there is to it,” he responded absently.