When We Meet Again (11 page)

Pamela would be every inch the perfect hostess and better, every inch the perfect fraudulent fiancee for a deposed prince. Besides, she had charmed him once with a mask on and her clothes off. Surely it would not be much more difficult sans mask and fully dressed.

Still, an annoying voice in the back of her head that refused to understand she was trying to start a new, respectable life, whispered in a most wicked manner that it might well be easier—but it would certainly not be as much fun.

"Your Highness. " Miss Effington sailed into the parlor with a lighthearted air and a charming smile. One never would have imagined that a scant few hours ago she had been a termagant ready to throw him bodily into the streets.

"Miss Effington. " Alexei met her halfway across the room, noted wryly the symbolism, and took her hands in his. "You are looking exceptionally lovely this evening."

She arched a brow. "Very polished, Your Highness. Yet another example of your charm?" His gaze met hers, and he raised her hands to his lips. "Only if it is successful. " He brushed his lips lightly across the back of one hand, then the next. "Regardless, its success does not diminish its truth. " All the while he kept his gaze fixed firmly on hers. "You are indeed a vision."

"And you are indeed well practiced in the art of charm. Nonetheless, I will concede your point. " The corners of her lips quirked upward in the satisfied smile of a woman who knows she looks her best.

"Excellent. I detest false modesty'. " He lowered her hands but did not release them and continued to stare into her eyes.

Admittedly, it was a technique of seduction that was most effective. This meshing of his gaze with hers created an impression of intimacy even in a crowded room and he had perfected it. Not that it was a particular hardship gazing into eyes like hers. They were luminous and very dark, with a hint of sensuality, suppressed probably in spite of her ruin, but still almost... erotic. And shaded with intelligence. Alexei had never been overly fond of intelligent woman. Politically, they were dangerous. Valentina was a prime example of just how dangerous they could be. Personally, clever women were never satisfied and had always wanted more than he'd been willing to give. Political favors, preferential treatment at court, a permanent position in his bed, commitment of some sort. Of course, his life was different now. He had nothing of that nature left to give, or rather, left to lose. Regardless, he had meant it when he had told Miss Effington that his charms were not contingent on his title. It was obviously time to prove it. And what better way to prove it than with an intelligent woman? This particular intelligent woman.

"What else do you detest, Your Highness?"

"Mutton, " he said without thinking.

She laughed. "Mutton?"

"Even as a boy I never liked mutton." He shuddered. "I have always considered it rather repulsive. " He paused to think. "And Avalonian brandy."

"Avalonian brandy? I've never tasted it."

"Consider yourself blessed."

"You don't like it then? And I gather it's from your country?"

"From what was my county, " he corrected. "No, Avalonian brandy may well be the only thing I do not miss. Dreadful, bitter stuff that we are— were—forced to drink for state celebrations in some sort of gastronomical barbarism dictated by tradition. It is made by a monastic order, and I suspect the making of it is penance for their sins and the drinking of it penance for ours."

"Do you require penance for your sins then, Your Highness? If so, I should be most willing to hear your confession."

"Would you grant absolution as well?"

She shrugged. "I suspect it depends on the sins."

"And what of your sins, Miss Effington?"

"I daresay, Your Highness, my sins would pale in comparison." She firmly pulled her hands from his.

"You would no doubt find them very, very dull."

"I cannot imagine that." He chuckled. "However, as neither of us is inclined at the moment toward confession and therefore penance, and as there is thankfully no Avalonian brandy available at any rate, I thought perhaps a glass of champagne before dinner would be appropriate. To toast our betrothal." He glanced past her. "Graham?"

Graham stood by a sideboard along the wall behind Miss Effington and at once uncorked a bottle and poured two glasses. Alexei was certain Miss Effington had had no idea the servant was in the room, yet she did not show so much as a twinge of surprise. How very interesting. The thought flickered through his mind that she would have made an excellent queen.

Graham brought her a glass. She eyed it with a touch of skepticism. "I do hope the wine cellar is better maintained than the rest of the house."

"The wine cellar is exceptional, miss." Graham's tone carried a hint of indignation that she would suspect otherwise. "We have found through the years that a superb selection of wine and other spirits is essential toward attracting a respectable tenant for the season. As is the outer appearance of the house and gardens. Therefore, maintenance in those areas has always been of paramount importance."

"And the interiors simply let go?" Her manner was casual, as if her question was of no significance whatsoever, and accepted the glass.

"Not at all, miss, " Graham said coolly. "Necessary repairs are made continuously. However, it's been rather a long time since Lady Gorham paid any particular attention to this house at all. Indeed, we thought she had forgotten our existence altogether. In recent years, the income from the yearly rental is all that has sustained us. You should know as well that after wages were paid, the remaining proceeds went into maintenance." He lifted his chin and stared down a rather long nose. "No one has profited in any way, Miss Effington. The books for the house are entirely in order."

"Do accept my apology, Graham, if I have offended you." Miss Effington shook her head. "That was certainly not my intention."

"Of course not, " Alexei said smoothly, and took the remaining glass from the butler. "It is to be expected that one would have a certain number of questions when the reality of a situation is not entirely as one expected."

"That's it exactly." She nodded. "I simply had no idea that the house was so... so..."

"Warm and welcoming, " Alexei said firmly. "With a delightful sense of having been loved and well cared for." He nodded at the servant. "That will be all for the moment, Graham."

"Of course, Your Highness." Graham paused. "And might I extend my congratulations upon the occasion of your betrothal."

"Thank you, Graham." Alexei smiled pleasantly.

The butler nodded curtly and took his leave. That was that then. Once a servant, any servant, was in possession of information such as this, it was certain to become common knowledge. Although it scarcely mattered he supposed. Alexei had agreed to Lady Smythe-Windom's scheme after all. He simply had not expected it to begin immediately.

Still, there were far worse fates than the pretense of affection toward a lovely woman.

"Expectations aside, how does it feel to be home at last, Miss Effington?"

"I have missed London more than I ever anticipated and missed my family, too, of course." She sipped her wine thoughtfully. "However, this house is scarcely my home. Yet. In fact, I don't think I've stepped foot in the place before now."

"Not at all?" he said curiously. "I was given to understand you had inherited it from a relative?"

"Oh, I did, along with my aunt and my cousin." Miss Effington idly stepped away, wandering around the large parlor with a critical eye. "It was willed to us by my great-aunt, who did not approve of the way Aunt Millicent has lived her life."

"Yet she left you this house?"

"And her fortune as well. All in hopes that it would encourage better behavior on the part of my aunt, thus saving my cousin and myself from a life she viewed as inappropriate. Inappropriate being in the eye of the beholder. To my own mind, Lady Smythe-Windom's life has always been exceptionally appropriate."

"Again in the eye of the beholder."

"Exactly." Miss Effington smiled in a wry manner.

"Aunt Millicent did indeed live what anyone would view as an eminently proper life until she became a widow, at which point she discovered an aversion to permanence and a penchant for doing precisely as she pleased. Of course, she had the funds to do so then. She abandoned London for the adventure of travel and has only returned a time or two since. Most recently six years ago. That was when my cousin and I decided to join her."

"Ah yes, " He sipped his champagne casually. "After the scandal." She cast him a sharp glance. "Indeed."

"I think, as your fiancé, I should know something about that particular incident. " He signed in feigned regret. "In the interest of avoiding misunderstandings between us in the future if for no other reason."

"Your Highness, there shall be no misunderstandings because there is no future. No real future, that is. Beyond that"—she squared her shoulders and met his gaze—"I should very much prefer that we agree that in regards to our private lives you shall not discuss my past, and I shall not discuss yours."

"I rather like discussing my past, in regards to my private life, that is."

She frowned. "You do?"

"Indeed I do. Of course, it is different for a man I suppose. A reputation for bedding—what was it? Ah yes, half the women in Europe. Such a reputation is rather a badge of honor, you know, among men." She snorted. "It's nothing of the sort. I think it's in extremely bad taste to sample indiscriminately the charms of one woman after another."

"But then you are not a man. " He allowed his gaze to slide over her. "To my everlasting gratitude." She ignored his comment and studied him curiously. "You are proud of your reputation then?"

"Proud is not entirely the right word; however, I do take umbrage at your use of the word indiscriminately. I was always most selective."

"My apologies."

"Accepted. " He brushed aside the less-than-sincere note in her voice. "I do not make excuses for my past, Miss Effington, as I have nothing to be ashamed of. If I have lived my life with a certain recklessness, a particular abandon, enthusiasm as it were, it was because I knew there would soon come a time when it would no longer be mine to do with as I chose. The life of any monarch belongs to his people. As mine would belong to my people when I ascended the throne. Until that point, however, I intended to have a very good time. " He smiled wickedly. "And I did."

"I have no doubt of that."

"Nor should you. However you should also keep in mind that when one is in line to inherit a throne and rule a country, one's every move, every act, every comment, becomes a topic of discussion and fodder for gossip. I will concede to you, and you alone, Miss Effington, and it pains me to do so, that my reputation is exaggerated—"

She scoffed.

"Although not greatly. " He grinned then continued. "However, there are certain expectations—"

"To bed half the women in Europe?"

"No. That is simply a pleasant benefit. There is the expectation that because you are destined to rule, in every way, you shall be larger than life allows. You cannot behave like other men, nor are you bound by the limits of other men, because you are not like other men. Your intelligence, your ability to command loyalty, your courage, even your appetites are expected to be greater than ordinary men."

"Disregarding the question of appetites, there have been any number of kings, even here in England, who have scarcely met such standards."

"Regardless of royal blood, men are still flesh and bone and subject to the failings that are inherent in all of mankind. But the kings who are successful in their rule, whose countries are prosperous and whose people are happy, are those who do indeed try to live up to those higher expectations. " He drew his brows together and considered his words. "It is not always possible, indeed, it is a continuous challenge, but it is the responsibility of power and privilege."

She studied him for a long moment. Her voice was cool, but there was a spark of amusement in her eyes. "All that to explain your behavior with women?"

He grimaced. "More than you wanted to know perhaps?"

"Not at all. In truth I found it fascinating. One never stops to think of the difficulties of a man born to your station, only of the more enviable trappings. " She paused. "Do you miss it?"

"There is a great deal I miss although, once again, Miss Effington, this is a concession only to you, I have not played the role of carefree prince for a rather long time." He paused to pull his thoughts together. He was not entirely sure why he chose to tell her all this, although it was scarcely a secret. Still, he was not accustomed to confiding in anyone, with the occasional exception of Roman or Dimitri. He blew a long breath. "Three years ago, my cousin, Valentina, attempted to seize power. My father was ill at the time, and it was my responsibility to thwart her efforts. I was successful, and while my father did regain his health somewhat, since that time I have been far too busy with matters of state to resume my previous wicked ways. Admittedly, I rather miss them. " He danced at her. "Did I mention I had a great deal of fun?"

She smiled. "In passing."

"Inevitably, there is a moment in one's life when one is forced to accept the responsibility of one's position. Make no mistake, I was fully prepared to do so. I was nothing if not well trained. After my father's illness, I essentially ruled by his side although we took great pains not to let it appear as such. Weakness, Miss Effington"—he met her gaze firmly—"is not acceptable."