HOW TO MARRY A PRINCESS Read Online Free

to drag her favorite sister off somewhere private, where she could tell her all about the scruffy, sexy, unforgettable stable hand—whom she could have sworn she’d just seen wearing a perfectly cut designer tailcoat and evening trousers and sharing a joke with their brother. She wanted a comforting hug and some solid, down-to-earth advice. But now was not the time. She tugged on Rhia’s hand. “It doesn’t matter. Come on. Let’s go in. Marcus will be wondering where you’ve gone.”
    * * *
    The family table was a long one, set up on a dais at the far end of the tent. All their brothers and sisters were there. The married ones had come with their spouses. Even dear Belle, who lived in America now with her horse-rancher husband, Preston McCade, had come all the way from Montana to celebrate with Rhia and Marcus. Only the little nieces and nephews were missing tonight. This was a grown-up party after all.
    Rhia whispered, “We never have time to talk anymore.”
    “I know. I miss you, too.”
    “Come to our villa at seven Sunday night. We’ll have dinner, catch up. Just the two of us.”
    “What about Marcus?”
    “He’s dining at the palace with Alex. Something about the CCU.” Alexander, Damien’s twin, was third-born of their brothers. Alex had created the elite fighting force the Covert Command Unit, in which Marcus served.
    “I’ll be there,” Alice promised.
    With a last hug, Rhia left her to join her groom in her seat of honor at the center of the table.
    Alice went to greet her parents. Her mother, looking amazing as always in beaded black Chanel, gave her a kiss and a fond, “Hello, my darling,” and didn’t say a word about her tardiness. Her mother was like that. HSH Adrienne had high expectations, but she’d never been one to nag.
    In the past, Alice had crashed a motorcycle in the marketplace, run off with a sheikh for a week in Marrakech, been photographed for Vanity Fair wearing only a cleverly draped silk scarf and been arrested in Beijing for participating in a protest march. Among other things.
    Until Glasgow, her mother had never done more than gently remind her that she was a princess of Montedoro and expected to behave like one. But after Glasgow, for the first time, Alice had been summoned to her mother’s office. HSH Adrienne had asked her to shut the door and then coolly informed her that she’d finally gone too far.
    “Alice,” her mother had said much too sadly, too gently, “it’s one thing to be spirited and adventurous. It’s another to be an embarrassment to yourself and our family. In future I am counting on you to exercise better judgment and to avoid situations that will lead to revealing, provocative pictures of you splashed across the front pages of the Sun and the Daily Star. ”
    It had been awful. Just thinking about it made her feel a little sick to her stomach.
    And sad, too. A bit wilted and grim.
    Shake it off, she commanded herself. Let it go.
    Alice looked for her place card and found it between her older sister Belle’s husband, Preston McCade, and her younger sister Genevra. Genny wore shimmering teal-blue satin and was giggling over something with another sister, the youngest, Rory, who was seated on Genny’s other side.
    Damien sat at the opposite end of the table. No sign of the man who looked like Noah. Alice considered hustling down there and asking Dami...what?
    Who was that man with the dark blond hair, the one you came in with?
    And what if he stared at her blankly and demanded, Allie, darling, what man?
    She waffled just long enough that she missed her chance. Her mother rose and greeted the guests. A hush fell over the tent. Then her father stood, as well. He picked up his champagne glass to propose the first toast.
    Allie reached for her glass, raised it high and drank on cue. Then she took her seat. She greeted her sisters and Preston, whom she liked a lot. He was charming and a little shy, with a great sense of humor. He bred and trained