looking forward to seeing her. She’d always been his favorite cousin.
He remembered when she’d come to him for advice. What had he told her? He tried to think of his words at the time. Something about not being foolish, not to count on anyone else in this world. Love didn’t last. She was going to throw away everything for the chance to reach for something that would melt away like a snowflake once she’d grasped it.
She’d laughed at him, called him cynical. Was she laughing now? They would see the answer to that one soon enough. He only hoped Giselle would be ready to tell the truth to them both.
Julienne could sense his moodiness. Was she really as attuned to his emotions as it felt like she was—or was she fooling herself? She thought of all those long, lonely nights when she’d stared at the ceiling of her small cell in the convent and thought about the Prince. And all the waiting she’d done. That really was the hardest part, as hope slowly faded.
And now here she was, holding on to him with both hands. It was glorious, and she meant to savor every second of it.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE big Harley made a lot of noise driving into the valley— an excessive amount of noise for people trying to hide from too much attention, in Julienne’s mind. She had a feeling Andre had been looking for an excuse to ride it out into the countryside. But she had to admit she was enjoying the trip as well.
As they neared the cottage where Giselle lived they stopped at a corner, and a young girl suddenly swung down, hanging off a branch on a tree before them.
About nine years old, she was wearing ragged jeans and a yellow pullover with a faded picture of a monkey on the chest. She stared at them from under a curly mop of light brown hair and they stared back. Andre cut the engine and swung off the bike, ready to catch her in case she should fall, but not wanting to be too obvious about it.
She let go just before he got into place, and landed on her bare feet all on her own. He grinned at her.
“Are you one of Giselle’s girls?” he asked at last.
The child nodded solemnly.
He grinned at her again. “What do you know? For a moment there I thought you might be Tom Sawyer.”
“Andre!” Julienne remonstrated.
“I’m Lily,” she said. “Are you the Prince?”
“Yes, I am.” He bowed low to her. “At your service.”
Her dark eyes took him in and seemed to approve. “Mother says I can be a princess if I want to be.”
“Do you want to?”
She made a face. “Heck, no. They have to sit on silk pillows and eat yucky food and wear frilly pink dresses that stick out.”
He exchanged a quick look with Julienne and both of them tried not to laugh.
“Is that what your mother told you?” he asked her.
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head. “I read it in a book.”
“Well, I’m here to tell you right now your mother didn’t spend a lot of time sitting around on silk pillows when she was your age. And, while it lasted, your mother made a wonderful princess.”
Lily seemed pleased with that. “But she didn’t like it. She told me she didn’t ever want to be one. And I don’t either.”
“No frilly dresses for you, huh?”
She shook her head emphatically. “I like my clothes just fine,” she said, kicking the dirt with her bare foot.
Andre gave Julienne a significant look that she knew was meant to convey how sad this was for Giselle, who must be regretting what she’d given up every day. And he might be right. But that didn’t mean Julienne would regret giving up the royalty business. She wasn’t Giselle.
“Hey, Your Highness,” Lily was saying, looking over the chrome and black beast before her. “I sure would like a ride on that motorcycle.”
“Uh.” Andre looked at Julienne and she waved her permission, jumping down herself.
“Go ahead. Give her a ride. Take her on in. I can walk. In fact, I’d like to. It’s so pretty in this valley. Let me take some time to enjoy it.” She handed over her helmet to the little girl and started off.
The snow pack had been a good one this year, and the wild flowers were taking advantage of all the extra runoff water. The entire valley was a riot of color.