When We Meet Again (37 page)

"Do you make it a habit of listening in on other people's conversations?" George snapped then paused.

"Your Highness."

"I suppose I do." Alexei sauntered into the room, his voice was light but a murderous gleam showed in his eye. "One learns so much of interest that way."

"Your Highness." Pamela moved toward Alexei. He ignored her, his attention focused only on George. Good Lord, he was going to kill him. "Alexei—"

"Indeed one does." George stared at Alexei in an assessing manner. "As I have learned the truth about your engagement to Miss Effington."

"Have you?" Alexei's voice was cool. "And are you confident enough in what you think you heard to back it with your life?"

Indecision flashed across George's face but he didn't waver. "I will do whatever is necessary to ensure Pamela marries me."

Pamela snorted. "Never."

Alexei narrowed his eyes. "Pamela is to marry me."

"I had her first," George said staunchly.

Pamela groaned. "Dear Lord."

"I have her now." Alexei's voice was low and carried a tone that ran a chill up her spine.

"No one has me." Pamela scoffed. "I am not a poss—"

"You have questioned Miss Effington's honor." Alexei's gaze bored into George's. George seemed to visibly shrink under his stare. "As well as my own."

George squared his shoulders. "I have said nothing but the truth."

"The truth, Lord Penwick, as are so many things, is a matter of perception. I shall not allow you to threaten Miss Effington in any way, nor shall I allow you to cast aspersions on the good name of the woman I love. Or mine." Alexei shook his head in a regretful manner. "I see you did not believe me last night either."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." George's voice was cautious.

"Simply put, Lord Penwick, while I was inclined to be understanding last night, today that inclination has fled." Alexei smiled pleasantly as if he was discussing nothing more important than an outing in the park, but Pamela caught her breath at the look in his eye. "Do you have a second?" George's eyes widened. "No."

"You should find someone to serve as your second at once then, as I will have my second contact him later today. Dawn is the usual time I believe." He glanced at Pamela. "Is that customary in your country as well?"

"Alexei, I—"

"I thought it was." Alexei nodded and directed his attention back to George. "Dawn tomorrow then. My second will contact yours as to the place and oh"—he drew his brows together—"since you expressed a preference for swords last night, I assume swords are still your weapon of choice? Or would you now prefer pistols?"

George swallowed hard. "Swords, if I must."

"You must. You do realize, Lord Penwick, you brought this entirely on yourself." Alexei sighed in a regretful manner. "I cannot overlook another misunderstanding." His voice hardened. "Nor do I wish to. Indeed, I am quite looking forward to skewering you like a pig on a spit." George turned an interesting shade of green. In spite of his evident fear, he drew a deep breath and met Alexei's gaze. "I am not unskilled with a sword, Your Highness."

"Excellent." Alexei smiled coldly. "I do so love a challenge."

"Tomorrow then," George said without so much as a quiver in his voice. It obviously took a great deal of effort and would have been admirable in anyone else. "Your Highness. Miss Effington." George nodded and left the parlor, his step measured. That, too, must have taken a great deal of effort. Alexei grinned. "I must say, this is going to be most enjoyable." Pamela stared. "You're going to kill him."

He shrugged. "Probably."

"Why?"

"Because he is a vile, nasty man who sees you, and your inheritance, as little more than acquisitions. He lost you once, and he is determined to have you now, in truth, to possess you. And if he cannot have you, because you are far wiser today than you once were—"

"Thank God."

"—then he will make certain no one else does by revealing our charade. Unless, of course," Alexei smiled pleasantly, "I kill him."

She huffed. "You can't kill him."

"I most certainly can unless he is a far better swordsman than I, and I cannot believe that. Or." His gaze met hers, his brown eyes intense. "He is right and you do indeed have feelings for him."

"I have many feelings for him, none of which are the least bit affectionate."

"Excellent." Alexei nodded with a slight but distinct air of relief. "It is decided then. It will not even be much of a challenge, which is something of a pity."

"As much as I would like to see him skewered like a pig on a spit"—she heaved a resigned sigh—"I cannot allow you to do so."

"You, my dear Pamela, have no choice in the matter. Besides, it is the least I can do for you before I leave." His voice was matter-of-fact, as if he were discussing something of no importance whatsoever. Her heart caught. "What do you mean leave?"

"I intend to depart for Avalonia immediately after slaying Lord Penwick."

She stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"Oh, I fully intend to slay him," he said casually.

"Not that." She moved closer to him. "The other part."

"Leaving for Avalonia, you mean?"

"Yes."

"It seems my brother has an extremely clever plan for retaking Avalonia involving expert troops and insurgents and, well, they cannot succeed unless they are properly led." He shrugged. "As heir to the throne, it is my duty to do so."

"I knew it. I knew he was dangerous the moment I saw him." Panic rose within her. "You cannot do this, Alexei. I will not allow it. You'll be killed."

"I am sorry, my dear, but in this, too, you have no say in the matter. As for my death, there is that possibility I suppose although I shall do all in my power to avoid that." He paused for a moment. "Still, there is a certain amount of glory in dying for one's country."

"There is a certain amount of stupidity in dying for a cause one cannot win," she snapped.

"Perhaps."

"Then...then..." She jerked her chin up in defiance. "Then I shall go with you."

"Do not be absurd. This is not your fight. And as much as I appreciate the offer, I must refuse." He shook his head. "Frankly, you would be nothing but a hindrance."

"My place is with you," she said staunchly.

"Your place?" He chuckled. "Do you forget our engagement is a hoax? Your place is here. It always has been, it always will be."

"But what about"—she held her breath—"us."

"My dear Pamela, we were an act. A very good one I might add."

"Last night—"

"Last night was wonderful, and I shall cherish the memory of it always." He raised her hand to his lips, his gaze boring into hers. "We were but an interlude, Pamela. We were never meant to be anything else." Her heart lodged in her throat. "I thought you had feelings for me."

"Oh, but I do. I am extremely fond of you, which is precisely why I intend to kill Penwick before I leave. As for anything more, love as it were." He smiled in a wry manner. "I fear I lost my heart sometime ago to a land and a people, and it remains with them still."

"You told George you loved me," she said slowly. "Was that an act as well?"

"And well done, too, if I may say so."

"Alexei." She struggled to hold back tears.

"Pamela." He gently pulled her into his arms. "In another time or another place, indeed in another life altogether, there might well have been a future for us. But here and now we have nothing save a few stolen moments."

"I don't want a few moments. I want forever. With you."

"That is very flattering but I..." He shook his head. "I would be very bad for you." Her voice caught. "I don't care."

"I do." He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her softly, gently, a kiss of farewell. She squeezed her eyes closed tight to hold back tears. She clung to him, and for a long moment he held her. If not for his words she would have sworn he felt far more for her than he admitted. At last he released her and stepped away.

"We shall say circumstances require I release you from our engagement. It will be quite noble of me, to give you up, that is." He smiled in a reluctant manner. "Many will think I am a fool to leave you; indeed, I think so myself at the moment."

"Then don't go!"

"Pamela." He reached out to cup her chin in his hand. "I cannot do anything else. I must return to my country. One makes sacrifices for...for love."

She brushed his hand away and forced a calm note to her voice. "Will you be going alone then?"

"No. Captain Petrov and Valentina will join me. It is their country as well." He hesitated. "I am leaving Count Stefanovich behind, and I have released him from all obligation to me."

"Because of Clarissa?"

"Yes, but he is not pleased with me. He, too, thinks my actions are questionable." Alexei shrugged.

"Nonetheless, sacrifices—"

"Yes, yes, I know," she said sharply. "For love." He stared at her for a long moment as if there were any number of things he wished to say but would not.

"Yes?" She couldn't hide the note of hope in her voice.

He ignored it if indeed he noticed it at all. "I have business at the bank to attend to this morning, then meetings, arrangements, that sort of thing that I anticipate will take me well into the night." He drew a deep breath. "It is entirely possible that we will not see one another again."

"So then this is"—she swallowed hard—"good-bye?" He nodded. "I am afraid so."

"I wish you all the best." Her voice had an odd hollow ring to it. "Please do not let me read of your death."

He chuckled. "I shall do what I can. Pamela." He paused, and his gaze met hers. In spite of his words, regret and something else, something that tore at her heart, shone in his eyes. "I shall treasure these days spent with you for the rest of my life."

"Make certain it is a very long life, Alexei." She could barely get out the words. He nodded, then turned and took his leave.

For an endless moment shock held her still. It was as if the world itself had crumbled about her. She wanted to scream with frustration or weep with despair.

She turned, stepped to the window, and stared unseeing at the street below. Even if he didn't love her, how could she allow him to risk his life in a hopeless cause? She loved him too much for that, and probably had from the first moment she'd seen him all those years ago in Venice. Alexei and Stefanovich appeared on the street below her. Would this really be the last time she saw him? She watched Petrov and the princess arrive. The group obviously was discussing their plans, given the serious expressions on those faces she could make out.

She had told Clarissa she was willing to sacrifice everything she'd thought she'd ever wanted, but she could not make him love her. And she would not have him without love. She'd been so certain he'd loved her.

Was she as foolish as George then? He refused to believe she did not love him just as she refused to believe Alexei did not love her. No, her resolve hardened. She wasn't wrong about that. She knew it as she knew the beat of her own heart. Knew it in the very depths of her soul. And she would not give him up without a fight. Even if that fight was with him. She had nearly a full day to think of something. He wasn't leaving until tomorrow after he killed George. She would have to stop that as well.

Below her Valentina and Petrov disappeared into the house, Alexei and the count drove off. Pamela lifted her chin. This would not be the last time she saw him. Still, she could fight almost anything but his love for his country. It was as much a part of him as his arms or legs or heart. Her only hope lay in her belief that he loved her as well.

And until that belief was dead and buried, until she was dead and buried, she would never give up.

Sixteen

I will see him again.

Pamela Effington

"Pamela?" Clarissa's voice sounded from behind her.

"Yes?" Pamela drew a steadying breath and turned away from the window.

"Are you all right?" Clarissa stepped toward her, concern on her face.

"No." Pamela smiled weakly.

"I have something to tell you. While you were in here with George and His Highness, Roman and I spoke."

Clarissa drew a deep breath. "He has asked me to marry him."

"Clarissa!" Pamela flew across the room and embraced her cousin. "How wonderful for you."

"Yes it is." Clarissa fairly glowed with happiness. "I accepted, of course, on one condition." Pamela raised a brow. "A condition?"

"It's really quite simple." Clarissa took her hand, led her to the sofa, and sat down. Pamela settled beside her. "The condition was honesty."

"That does seem simple."

"Not really." Clarissa's gaze searched her cousin's. "It required the truth about a number of issues."

"Oh?" Pamela's heart thudded.

"First of all," Clarissa paused. "His Highness is not returning to Avalonia."