“You won’t know until you read her letter,” she replied.
“I don’t need to read it to know what she did was dishonorable.”
“I realize you feel that way now, but you have to read her letter, Luc.”
“If you’re so interested, then you read it,” he growled, yanking it out of his pocket and tossing it onto her book-strewn desk. “I’m not interested. I don’t care what it says. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare for my meeting with the prime minister and dowager queen and I need some fresh air to clear my head.”
With that curt announcement, Luc left as abruptly as he’d arrived.
Chapter Two
Juliet stared down at the envelope on her desk as if it were a snake that might lunge out and bite her. Her fingers trembled as she traced the elegant handwriting—Luc.
What had his mother been thinking when she’d written his name? Had she hoped that he’d never find out he was heir to the throne of St. Michel? Would she even have known? From what Luc had told her of the investigation, Katie had been told that her marriage to Philippe was illegal.
Which meant Katie would have believed her son to be illegitimate. And she’d have done everything she could to hide that fact from him.
Juliet knew how much legitimacy mattered. The royal princesses had had to weather that storm of controversy themselves when Lise’s rotten first husband Wilhelm had sold the story to a tabloid. Once the word was out that King Philippe had had a secret first wife, whom he’d never divorced, the paparazzi had swarmed the de Bergeron Palace like a bunch of locusts, feeding off the scandal.
The princesses had all left the palace now—Marie-Claire had married Sebastian, Ariane had gone to Rhineland and married Prince Etienne, Lise had finally found true happiness with her former brother-in-law, the honorable Charles Rodin. Juliet’s own half sister Jacqueline was visiting cousins in Switzerland and protected from most of the scandal while their brother Georges had headed off to the Andes in Peru for a few weeks of summer skiing.
At least things had worked out well in the end for the three older princesses, who had all found the men of their dreams.
Juliet thought she’d found the man of her dreams as well—Luc. Her chances of having him see her in a romantic way had always been slim at best, but now they were impossible.
Juliet turned and caught her reflection in the small mirror propped on top of the bookcase along the opposite wall. She’d placed it there to reflect the view of the garden rather than out of any vanity on her part.
She had nothing to be vain about. Her green eyes were all right, she supposed, but her long dark hair had never behaved properly, and was at this moment falling out of the topknot she’d secured it in with a pencil to hold it in place. Her eyebrows were bushy, or so her roommate in boarding school had once told her, and her mouth was too large to be elegant. She even had freckles, something no princess would ever have.
Of course, she wasn’t a princess. She was the ugly stepsister. The smart one, the bookworm, more interested in the past than in her future.
On those occasions lately when she had dreamt about her future, she’d placed Luc at her side. Her gaze traveled from her reflection to the letter on her desk.
The fact that Luc was the missing heir changed everything.
She certainly didn’t have what it took to make a king happy. She didn’t even have what it took to keep a rich St. Michel businessman’s son like Armand Killey happy. Three years ago, Armand had swept her off her feet, telling her he loved her quiet beauty. And she’d bought every word, had, in fact, hungered for someone to love her after her mother had died.
But Armand hadn’t really loved her at all. He’d simply been using her in order to get close to the king. Juliet had heard him and his father discussing the plan. She’d been devastated and humiliated, as well as angry with herself for being so stupid as to fall for Armand’s slick ways in the first place.
“Did you read the letter yet?” Luc asked, disrupting her thoughts and once again catching her unprepared. He must have gotten the fresh air he’d said he needed by taking a brief walk in the garden, out of her line of vision.
“No.” She paused to remove the pencil from her hair and let the dark strands tumble where they may. She’d learned long ago there was no fighting her hair, it always won. If it didn’t want to stay up, it wouldn’t. Turning to face Luc, she said, “I did not read it. And I’m not going to until you do.”
“Then you’ll be waiting a very long time,” he retorted, “since I have no intention of ever reading it.”
“Luc.” She reached out to cover his hand with hers. “You’re upset right now. Don’t make any decisions just yet.”
“Don’t make any decisions?” His voice was harsh, making him sound like a man pushed to his limits as he pulled his hand away. “I have to. I have to tell the prime minister and the dowager queen what I’ve discovered. I have an appointment with them both in less than half an hour.”
Juliet tried not to be hurt by his physical withdrawal from her, reminding herself that he had a lot to deal with. A good friend wouldn’t get all sensitive, wouldn’t show her pain. She’d be supportive and reassuring. “As I said before, I’m sure they will be pleased with the news.”
“And as I said before, I know nothing about being a king.”
“There is a silver lining in all this you know. At least you won’t have to worry about getting along with the new king.”
“Trust you to find a silver lining.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You make me sound like a naive Pollyanna who still believes in happy endings.”
“You don’t believe in happy endings?”
“My mother never found her happy ending,” Juliet noted somberly. “She married Philippe out of a sense of duty, hoping to provide for her children, Georges and I. I don’t think she ever truly loved the king the way she loved my father. Which was perhaps a good thing given the fact that the king only wanted one thing from my mother—an heir. In the end she died trying to provide him a son.”
“Are you bitter about that?”
His question surprised her. “I try not to let myself be, but it is difficult at times,” she admitted. “After the first baby was stillborn, the doctors warned that another pregnancy might be risky. But the king wouldn’t listen and my mother went along with his wishes. Jacqueline was born a year later. I think the fact that the pregnancy went so well lulled the king and my mother into a false sense of security. Two years later my mother was pregnant again. This time things did not go as well.” Juliet’s throat tightened as it always did when she thought of those dark days. “I miss her still. That’s why I feel so strongly about you reading this letter from your mother, Luc. Because I know the influence a mother can have, and how that loss leaves a void in you.”
“My situation is entirely different. My mother died when I was six. I don’t remember much about her.”
“Perhaps reading her letter will bring back some memories.”
“I don’t want to remember,” Luc stated bluntly, returning to his earlier pacing. “I’ve got enough trouble dealing with the present without dredging up the past any more than I absolutely have to. As it is, I’ll have to rehash the entire story for the prime minister and dowager queen.”
“The dowager queen has always had a soft spot in her heart for you.”
“She just has an eye for younger men.”
“Luc!” Juliet gave him a startled