A Royal Wedding(111)

She looked at him archly. “Wasn’t that your job?”

He sat back and stared at her, realizing the truth of her accusation. “Maybe. Yes, maybe so.”

She resumed walking about the room, though she was aware of his gaze following her everywhere she went.

“So far I haven’t seen a lot of advantage to being a princess,” she said over her shoulder. “There are a lot of rules to follow. Everyone seems to have an opinion on how you should behave at any given moment, and I never seem to be doing it right.”

“So what’s the plan, Julienne?” he asked her. “If you do manage to escape my evil clutches and get across the border, where will you go? What will you do?”

She turned to look at him. “I’m hoping it won’t come to that,” she said earnestly. “It would be so much better if you would just understand and take my side and … and maybe we could fix things so I wouldn’t have to run.”

She stared into his eyes and he stared back.

“It won’t work,” he said at last. “Everything we’ve fought for these last ten years would be destroyed. It just won’t work.”

She stood before him with her hands out, palms up, as though offering him something from her soul but not sure how to give it to him. She didn’t speak, but her eyes were pleading with him to find a way. Some way out.





CHAPTER FOUR



PRINCE ANDRE heard something at his door. He’d only been asleep for ten minutes or so and he was wide awake again in an instant. He went up on one elbow.

“Andre?”

It was Julienne, who should be asleep in the next room and not here, waking him. His first impulse was to tell her to go back to bed. Midnight meetings were way too dangerous to play around with. But maybe something was wrong. He had to find out.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Can I come in?”

He sighed. He should turn her down. He should tell her they would talk about whatever was going on with her in the morning. But he knew he wasn’t going to do that. He couldn’t.

“Yes, come on in. It’s not locked.”

The door opened and there she stood, her lovely form silhouetted by the living room light that made her nightgown disappear and left only a perfect view of her soft curves. His mouth went dry. Closing his eyes, he muttered an oath, and when that didn’t help he added a small, intense prayer.

But she came in anyway.

“Andre, I can’t sleep. This may be the last time we’re together like this. And I have to know something.”

“Okay,” he said, his voice strained and grainy. “Shoot.”

He was sitting up in the bed, his bare torso gleaming in the moonlight. She slid down to sit on the edge of the bed—so close—too close. He bit his lower lip, hard. Maybe pure pain would save him.

“We used to be friends,” she was saying softly. “I used to count on you for … a lot of things. Including emotional support.”

“I … yes,” he said lamely.

“You were so important to me. After my parents died it seemed like you were all I had in the world.”

He could hear the emotion in her voice and knew he had to do something to comfort her. He took her hand in his and held it tightly. “I know,” he said softly. “Julienne, I know.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “So why did you desert me?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Why didn’t you come to visit me these last two years and more?”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, closing his eyes and wishing he could take her in his arms. She was so lovely and so close and he could feel her unhappiness. “I.I couldn’t come,” he told her lamely. “I had to stay away.”

She frowned, uncomprehending. “But why?”

He cupped her cheek with his free hand. Her hair was silver in the moonlight. “Do I really have to explain it to you?” he said, his voice rough as sandpaper.

“Yes.” She came closer. “I’m just not sure …”

He took her shoulders in his hands and faced her. “I wanted to come. Julienne, you know I wanted to.”

“Then why?” She searched the darkness of his eyes. “Did I do something to make you angry?”

“Angry?” He groaned. “Never.”

“Then why? Do you know how heartbroken I was when you stopped coming to see me?”