She was still so young. She had no idea how naive she sounded. Love had nothing to do with this. He searched her wide, innocent eyes, wondering how to explain that to her.
“No one is asking you to love him,” he said carefully at last. “But you have to marry him. Everyone expects it. The two of you were betrothed years ago. It’s too late to change your mind. If you two don’t marry, all hell will break loose.” He shook his head impatiently. “The wedding will go forward as planned.”
He waited for anger, or at least tears. That was the way most of the women of his acquaintance usually fought their battles. But Julienne was gazing at him levelly, as though searching for the chink in his armor, the weak spot she could use in her attack. Walking over to the couch, she flounced down not far from him.
“Just how well do you know Alphonso?” she asked him at last.
He blinked at her, nonplussed. “I know his mother.”
“There you go. You don’t know him at all, do you?”
“I’ve seen him. I’ve met him.” He avoided her gaze. Actually, now that he thought about it, he knew where she was coming from. The young man had been no paragon of manliness the last time they’d been together. But he was young. He would grow into his role quickly enough. He turned back and looked at her.
“But, Julienne, that isn’t the point. It doesn’t matter what Alphonso is like. He’s a symbol.”
“I’m supposed to be satisfied marrying a symbol?” She threw out both hands. “That’s it? That’s my life?”
“You think I don’t understand what you’re going through? Am I not royal? “
“Yes, but you … you …”
“I have to abide by the rules and the responsibilities just like you do.”
She shook her head, looking at him rebelliously. “But it seems like you like it.”
His head jerked back as though she’d slapped him. “No, Julienne,” he said coldly. “I’ve had to deal with my own disappointments. Being royal gives us some incredible benefits. At the same time it means we aren’t allowed to live like others do.” He sighed and looked out at the midnight lake. “Sometimes it doesn’t seem fair. Sometimes it isn’t. But it remains our reality.”
She stared at him, wondering what had happened. From the haunted look in his deep blue eyes, she knew something had.
“Tell me,” she whispered. She reached out but she couldn’t quite touch him. “Tell me what happened to you.”
He gave her a scathing look and turned away. “Nothing happened to me.”
She didn’t believe that, but she could see he wasn’t going to tell her anything. “The thing about Alphonso is—”
He rose abruptly. “Enough. I don’t need to hear all these complaints about Alphonso. It’s your duty to marry him.”
Walking to the desk along the far wall, he sank into the chair and pulled out a stack of papers, beginning to sort through them. She watched for a moment, then rose herself and began to stroll around the room, looking at various pieces of art on the bookshelves, and at some of the books stacked there, too.
But, inevitably, she was drawn to the desk where he was working.
“So you’re missing a secretary?” she noted, looking over his shoulder at the letter he was reading.
“That I am,” he acknowledged, giving her a quick smile.
She bit her lip. A new idea suddenly occurred to her. At first thought it seemed a real winner, though she had a feeling he wasn’t going to agree. Still—nothing ventured, nothing gained. She might as well throw it out there and see what his reaction might be.
“Hey, I could be your secretary.”
He looked up in surprise, then a look of distaste swept over his handsome face. “No, you couldn’t.”
But the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. “Yes. Don’t you see? It would be perfect.”
He shook his head, dismissing it out of hand. “You’re a princess.”
She blinked at him. “Princesses can’t be secretaries?”
“No.” As far as he was concerned he’d said the final word on the subject, and he went back to sorting through his papers.
She knew it was probably a lost cause, but she wasn’t ready to abandon it just because he hated the idea. There were lots of things about it that appealed to her pretty strongly. And, anyway, anything was better than marrying Alphie.
“Wouldn’t it be fun, though?” she said, walking toward the window. “I mean, I’d be there all the time, and you could