When We Meet Again (14 page)

He raised his head and stared down at her, a perplexed expression on his face. "Miss Effington—

Pamela—"

"Yes?" she said a shade too eagerly.

"For a moment I thought. That is to say..."

"Yes?" She stared up at him.

"Have we... Have you and I... " His puzzled gaze locked with hers. "Have we met?"

"Have we... " Once. On a starlit night filled with magic and mystery and memories to last forever. She drew a deep breath and forced a light note to her voice. "How very unflattering to think that you would have forgotten such a meeting. "

"I would not have forgotten, " he said simply. "Never. " He studied her for a moment, then shook his head and stepped away.

It was wise, of course, his putting some distance between them, that is. She was extraordinarily tempted to do precisely as she had threatened earlier and throw herself into his arms. Just as tempting was the urge to remind him of their night together. Still, that wouldn't do at all if indeed her desire was for a proper, respectable life. Bringing to mind a long-ago liaison that was strictly for purposes of beginning an entirely different kind of life altogether was not especially sensible. No, it was best that he not recall their past.

Unless, the idea flashed through her mind, her desire for him was greater than her desire to reclaim her position in society.

"Good evening, Your Highness. " Aunt Millicent breezed into the parlor with her usual air of an accomplished actress making her first entrance. Clarissa, accompanied by Count Stefanovich, trailed in her wake, their appearance together surely no more than coincidence. Pity. Aunt Millicent headed toward Alexei, then caught sight of Valentina and pulled up short. "You must be His Highness's cousin, the princess."

"Indeed I must. " Valentina smiled smugly.

The two women considered one another much as one warrior might appraise another. Valentina looked to be about Alexei's age and therefore a decade or so younger than Aunt Millicent. Regardless, both were sophisticated, well traveled and clever, and to all appearances, evenly matched.

"I have heard a great deal about you, " Aunt Millicent said in a pleasant manner.

"Oh?" Valentina's eyes narrowed. "From my cousin, no doubt?"

"Not at all. His Highness has scarcely mentioned you. However, in certain circles on the Continent your name has come up on occasion. " Aunt Millicent's voice was cool. "You have rather an... interesting reputation."

"Really?" The princess's expression brightened. "How interesting?"

"Extremely. " Aunt Millicent studied her curiously. "I have heard words like wicked and dangerous and treacherous used in reference to you."

"Ah yes, the good days... " Valentina sighed then shrugged. "Alas, I have reformed. I have given up my previous ill-advised methods of achieving what I want."

Petrov snorted again, and again Valentina ignored him.

"Have you?" Aunt Millicent nodded thoughtfully. "It's been my experience few people, even those with the best of intentions, ever truly change."

"Well, few people lose their country, their fortune, and two husbands, " Valentina said sharply. "Few people are forced to face the fact that all they have left in the entire world is a handful of relations, most of whom despise them. It is quite a revelation."

"I can see where it would be. " Aunt Millicent stared with obvious fascination. "It must be extremely difficult to reform. To give up one's wicked ways."

"You have no idea. " Valentina heaved a heartfelt sigh.

"Particularly when one has enjoyed one's wicked ways, " Aunt Millicent said.

"I did have rather a lot of fun, " Valentina murmured.

"Has she really changed?" Aunt Millicent glanced at Alexei.

Alexei shrugged. "We shall see."

"We shall all, no doubt, be smothered in our beds, " Petrov muttered. Valentina cast him a look of disgust.

Aunt Millicent looked at him with a definite spark of interest in her eye. "I can think of any number of things I'd prefer to have happen in our beds. "

Clarissa choked. The count stepped forward to make the necessary introductions. A moment later, Aunt Millicent was engaged in animated conversation with the princess, who appeared to quite enjoy the discussion, and Petrov, who seemed to do little more than scowl. Which might well work in his favor as Aunt Millicent had always had something of a fondness for brooding men of a military nature. Alexei said something under his breath to Stefanovich, who then traded dances with Clarissa. Alexei murmured an apology to Pamela, and he and the count stepped aside for a private word. No doubt to relate what had transpired with the princess and Petrov.

Graham appeared from nowhere with a tray of champagne-filled glasses, and the room took on the air of a celebration. Odd in and of itself since most of those here knew the betrothal of Pamela and the prince was a sham. Still, it didn't seem to matter.

Clarissa stepped to Pamela's side and accepted a glass of champagne. Her gaze roamed curiously over the gathering. "It appears everyone in the household now knows about your engagement." Pamela took a glass for herself and waited until the butler had moved out of earshot. "I always find it amazing how quickly news of this nature travels within a house. It's been no more than half an hour since the butler overheard us."

Clarissa scoffed. "Within a house? I daresay all of London will know of your excellent match before you and His Highness so much as step foot upon a ballroom floor." Pamela winced. "It's all happening rather quickly, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is."

Pamela's gaze slipped to Alexei. He and Stefanovich were obviously discussing something of importance, at least judging by the expressions on their faces. "Just this morning I was barely aware of his existence."

"And this evening you are about to embark on a grand farce designed to fool all of London." Alexei caught Pamela's eye, and he smiled and raised his glass in a slight salute. Her stomach fluttered, and she returned his smile.

"It is a farce, isn't it, Pamela?" Clarissa sipped her champagne thoughtfully. "You aren't planning—"

"Certainly it's a farce, " Pamela said quickly. "I don't even know the man. And he is a prince after all. Regardless of his current circumstances, I daresay he is still considered most eligible for the hand of some princess or other. Therefore, there can never be anything of a permanent nature between us. He is simply doing me a great kindness."

"Because he has no choice."

"Nonetheless, it is quite gracious of him. " Pamela glanced at her cousin. "Why on earth would you suggest I might think there could possibly be more between us?"

"Oh, I don't know. No reason really. " Clarissa shrugged. "There's something in the way you look at him..."

"Nonsense. " Pamela brushed away the comment. "I look at him the very same way I look at any man who is as dashing and handsome as he is."

"The count is every bit as dashing and handsome, yet I haven't noticed you looking at him in the same manner.

"The count is not posing as my fiancé," Pamela said firmly. "It's to be expected that I should look at Alexei—"

Clarissa raised a brow. "Alexei?"

"As well as it is expected that I should call him by his given name."

"Yes, of course, " Clarissa said, her voice overly casual. "Aunt Millicent says she met him in Venice during our stay there a few years ago."

"She did say that, didn't she?" Pamela's tone matched her cousin's as if this was indeed an insignificant observation.

"I don't remember meeting him, " Clarissa continued. "Did you?"

"Not that I recall, " Pamela murmured. "One meets so many people in so many places. It is one of the true benefits of travel to my mind."

"Indeed. The meeting of any number of people. So difficult to bring one particular meeting to mind. " Clarissa paused. "However, I do vaguely recall a gentleman that you met that I did not, at a masked ball I believe, who occupied your attention for the better part of a night."

"Yes?" Pamela met her cousin's gaze directly and held her breath. She had no intention of lying to Clarissa, but she had no desire to reveal Alexei's name now. It simply muddied up everything.

"A night that was rather more important to you than you had planned." Pamela raised her chin a notch. "Yes?"

Clarissa studied her for a long moment, then shrugged and sipped her champagne. "Just something I happened to remember. I daresay it's of no significance now."

"None whatsoever. " Pamela pushed aside a twinge of guilt. It really wasn't a lie. Or at least not a complete lie. She hadn't so much as a single doubt that their night together wasn't the least bit significant to Alexei. Therefore, it wasn't the least bit significant to her. Now. Clarissa's gaze drifted to Alexei and the count. "Still, even if you didn't meet him in Venice, there is something in the way you now look at—"

"As there is something in the way you look at Count Stefanovich, " Pamela said curtly. A most unusual smile curved the corners of Clarissa's lips. "Is there?" Pamela stared. "You've scarcely met him."

A speculative smile accompanied by a distinct gleam in Clarissa's eye. "Indeed, we've exchanged no more than a dozen words."

"I cannot believe that you... why you've never—"

"Then perhaps it's time I did. " Clarissa glanced at her. "It's your influence you know." Pamela gasped. "Mine?"

"All that 'becoming an Effington' nonsense, I think. As well as being back in London. I did dread it; there are far too many memories here for comfort, and not all of them good. " She smiled wryly. "Yet, even though we have been back in the city for no more than a day, it feels rather, I don't know, right to be here. As if this is where I belong and have always belonged. And that feeling carries with it a rather remarkable sense of assurance and confidence."

"I don't know what to say. " Pamela stared for a long moment. On one hand, she did rather hate being, even in part, the impetus for her cousin's deciding to do whatever it was she was obviously deciding to do with the handsome count. On the other, well, certainly it was past time Clarissa actually did something. Anything. In the years since her husband's death it had been as though she were waiting for something as yet unidentified and unknown. "Save perhaps"—she grinned—"to wish you the very best of luck. "

Clarissa laughed lightly. "I am most appreciative, but I daresay I'm not the one who needs luck. " Sympathy shone in her eyes. "Have you given any thought as to what you will tell your family?"

"My family?" Pamela widened her eyes. "Dear Lord. I haven't considered my family at all."

"Well, you probably should. " Clarissa sipped her wine. "You can't possibly tell them the truth if you want to fool the rest of the world."

"I should hate to deceive them, but they've never been especially good at keeping secrets, especially secrets of this magnitude. I love them of course, but..."

Pamela shook her head. She quite liked her family, indeed, she couldn't think of an Effington she disliked. But her mother in particular could not be counted on to keep a secret as delicious as this one. Her younger sister was probably no different. Her father and brothers would doubtless think it would do no harm to tell a cousin or an uncle and everyone in the family would know everything within days.

"No. " Pamela squared her shoulders. "It's best if they never know the truth. Besides, what possible harm could it do? My parents, indeed, my aunts and uncles and everyone else will be quite pleased I have returned on the arm of a prince. Beyond that, the whole thing will be over and done with soon enough."

"Of course, " Clarissa said without so much as a hint of conviction in her voice. Pamela frowned. "Whatever are you thinking?"

"Nothing of any significance really. " Clarissa's gaze returned to the count. "Only that no matter how careful you might be, life has a rather interesting way of changing your plans and changing as well what you think you want."

"I know what I want, " Pamela said firmly. "I want to be who I was always meant to be, in the position I was meant to be in."

"Dear cousin, I should be careful what I wish for if I were you."

"What do you mean?"

"Only that you always wanted to be like the rest of your family in temperament. And while I think you are unique, in these years away from them you have indeed in many ways become an Effington."

"We've established that. " Pamela narrowed her eyes.

"What is your point?"

"It's been my observation that, while the end result is always interesting, few ventures involving members of your illustrious family ever turn out as expected. " Clarissa smiled. "And this has all the markings of one of them."

"Miss Effington and I have met before. " Alexei directed his words to Roman but kept his gaze fixed firmly on Miss Effington—Pamela.

Roman frowned. "Are you certain?"

"I am indeed. I was not until I kissed her—"

"You kissed her?"

"Part of the act. " Alexei waved away the question. "Nothing more than that. " Although there was a great deal more than that even if he could not quite ascertain what at the moment. It was a simple kiss. Nothing really uncommon about it in terms of length or passion, yet somehow it was extraordinary. Indeed it was rather shocking and most compelling. He was certain those lips had met his before, but surely he would have remembered. Why, her eyes alone would linger in one's memory for at least a lifetime. It made absolutely no sense that she could possibly have slipped his mind. Even if he did not always remember everyone who made his acquaintance. he did pride himself on remembering those he had kissed. And if he had kissed her before, why had she pretended they had never met?