When We Meet Again (4 page)

"Penniless?" Dimitri Petrov, formerly Captain Petrov, offered helpfully. "Destitute? Impoverished?

Without a pot to p—"

"That's quite enough," Count Roman Stefanovich said in the very same tone he had honed to a fine art during his regrettably brief service as chief advisor to the heir to the throne. The count glanced at the notebook in his hand, drew a deep breath, and turned his attention back to his prince. "It is not as dire as all that, Your Highness."

Alexei narrowed his eyes. "Precisely how dire is it, Roman? What is the true state of my finances?"

"As you know, your grandfather saw fit to protect a sizable portion of his personal wealth by placing it in the Bank of England more than half a century ago, during a time of great upheaval in Avalonia," Roman began. "Wisely, as it turns out, even though the crisis had passed, he thought it prudent to allow the funds to remain and accrue interest in the event it was ever needed by the rightful heir to the throne. It is now a substantial, indeed, an impressive fortune."

"Yes, yes, as you said, I know all that." Alexei gestured impatiently. While in many ways Roman was brilliant, he had the most annoying tendency to reiterate the entire history of an issue rather than simply get to the point. "Precisely why I have chosen to make England, a country I have never been overly fond of, my home."

"Although, your sister and your cousin do reside here," Dimitri pointed out. "Besides, England is as far away as one can get from Avalonia and not have to cross the Atlantic."

"There is that," Alexei said darkly.

It still grated on him, this exile from the land of his birth to a country he found no more than bearable, but what choice did he have? He refused to leave Europe altogether and the Americas certainly held no interest for him. Nasty, uncivilized places from what he'd heard. No, as unappealing as he had always considered England, and London as well, it was the only acceptable option. As soon as Roman could locate a suitable estate for purchase somewhere outside of London, it was Alexei's intention to forsake the city altogether. He had always been a sociable sort, indeed he had relished attending grand balls in Vienna, masquerades in Venice, even soirees in London when necessary, but that too had changed in the six months since his father's death.

Alexei now wanted nothing to do with English society or society anywhere for that matter. His desire at the present was for solitude, the kind that allowed a man to examine his life and come to grips with his own mistakes as well as accept the forces of fate he could not control. He wanted—no needed —a haven for himself and for the handful of retainers, servants and, in the case of Roman and Dimitri, friends as well who had remained loyal to him and accompanied him into exile. He owed them that much and indeed more.

"Unfortunately," Roman continued, "the very reasons your grandfather originally chose the Bank of England, its secure and conservative nature, make it difficult to access the funds at the present time."

"Why?" Alexei asked, even though he already suspected the answer.

"Russia, Your Highness. As Avalonia is now part of the Russian Empire, the bank, as well as the British government, wishes to be certain the Russians have no claim to the money." Roman paused to choose his words. "Apparently the English have no desire to annoy the tsar."

"What about annoying me?" Alexei snapped although once again he knew the answer. Silence fell in the room. Roman and Dimitri traded wary glances. It was not at all fair of Alexei to take his frustration out on them, and he well knew it.

"My apologies, old friends." Alexei ran a weary hand through his hair. "It is most prudent of the British government to do whatever necessary to avoid strained relations with Russia. I would do the same in their place. I am, after all, a sovereign without a country, and any annoyance on my part is of scarce importance to the English or anyone else."

"Nonetheless, there is a question of loyalty to longtime friends and allies." Dimitri said staunchly. Alexei laughed, a harsh, deprecating sound. "In the world we inhabit, Dimitri, loyalty between countries has more to do with power than friendship. Avalonia's power has always been tenuous, consisting of nothing more than the strategic nature of its geographic location in the world. I have long known and accepted, as my father did before me and his father before him, that our very existence was contingent on the benevolence of those more powerful countries around us." The muscles in his jaw tightened. "We can thank Napoleon's rampage across Europe for Russia's decision to annex Avalonia to secure its own position before Prussia or Austria chose to do so."

"Damn the French." Dimitri muttered. "And the Russians as well."

"It does no good to condemn half the world, Dimitri." Roman said coolly. "Although I admit to sharing your feelings, they neither change the situation nor help."

"We should have fought to the death." Dimitri blurted, then caught himself. Regret reflected in his eyes, and he bowed toward Alexei. "Forgive me. Your Highness. I did not mean—"

"You most certainly did, and I cannot fault you for it. You have showed remarkable restraint in recent months in not pressing the issue. It is duly noted and appreciated more than you can know." Alexei blew a long breath. "I myself shall regret every moment, with each breath that I take until the end of my days, that we did not fight to retain our independence."

"To what end. Your Highness?" Roman's voice was low and intense. Roman had always been a diplomat. Dimitri a warrior. Roman alone understood full well the decisions Alexei had made. The reasons behind them and the dreadful cost.

Russia had announced its intention to annex Avalonia within days of his father's death, before Alexei could be crowned king. The tsar's representatives had given him a choice no man who was born and raised to rule his country and serve his people should be forced to make. Alexei could still ascend to the throne, but he would be nothing more than a ceremonial leader, a figurehead to be displayed at state functions and formal celebrations. Not even a puppet with the pretense of authority. No more than a symbol of a country that would, for all intents and purposes, no longer exist. Or he could choose exile. Leave Avalonia forever and forfeit all claims to the throne.

"To what end indeed." Alexei said more to himself than to the others. His younger brother. Nikolai, had urged full-fledged resistance. Nikolai had demanded they take up arms against Russia and fight to the last Avalonian left standing. Alexei had been forced to send his brother out of the country for his own safety.

Nikolai was young and impetuous. He had not spent his life in training to rule and to put the welfare of his people above all else. Russia had stopped Napoleon's progress when the rest of the world had failed. Avalonia would have been nothing more than a minor and short-lived irritation beneath its feet. The country would have been crushed, the land laid waste, the population decimated. Fighting the Russian Empire would have accomplished nothing more than the final satisfaction of being able to die for one's country. What little country would have been left.

The threat of rebellion was precisely why Alexei had chosen exile. As long as he remained in Avalonia there would be the possibility of revolt. He would have been a constant reminder of what had been lost. Those loyal to his family and to an independent Avalonia would have used him as a symbol around which to rally forces for rebellion. And ultimately, his people would die, and his country would be destroyed. He had had no choice. To save his country and his people, he had to leave it forever. Pity he could not take his heart with him.

Alexei was more than willing to die for his country. He would have considered it an honor, even a right. But he would not allow his country to die for him.

"The world has moved on, and so, too, shall we." Alexei forced a firm note to his voice. He no longer had a country, a home, but he had two very good men—two very good friends—who had followed him into exile and a handful of servants who had chosen loyalty to their prince over the place of their birth. Their future, indeed their very survival, was now in his hands. "So, how bad are my finances. Roman?" He waved at the room around them, a large library that had become the men's favorite place in the huge, if somewhat shabby, London house Roman had arranged to lease. "Can we retain the roof over our heads at least?"

"That was never in doubt. Your Highness." Indignation colored Roman's voice at the very thought that he had not taken care of this particular matter. "We paid the required rent in advance for the next six months."

Alexei raised a brow. "We had the money for that?"

"I said the situation was not dire." Roman huffed. "Although admittedly said payment did deplete our resources. You have a minimal amount of funds on hand, not what you are used to, of course, but something at any rate. I understand the nobility in this country, when finding themselves in similar circumstances, live to a great extent on credit."

"Credit?" Dimitri brightened.

"No." Alexei shook his head. He had seen far too many nobles in his own country succumb to the lure of credit to their financial ruin. He had never understood the temptation of credit before now. "I would prefer to avoid that route as long as possible."

"Excellent. Your Highness." Roman nodded his approval. "We shall simply have to curtail our expenditures, particularly those of a frivolous nature."

"What?" Alexei adopted a wicked grin. "No expensive baubles for whatever beautiful creature strikes my fancy."

Dimitri's grin matched his prince's. "That scarcely seems frivolous to me. Why, I would call it a necessity of life."

"No doubt you would. Both of you." A reluctant smile curved Roman's lips. "Even I can see the advantages in the presentation of a costly trinket in the attaining of the affections of a lovely woman. However." his expression sobered, "such indulgences must be eliminated for the moment. In point of fact, you—in truth we, all of us—shall have to adhere to a rather strict"—he flipped open his notebook—"budget."

"A budget?" Alexei traded glances with Dimitri. This would be most amusing under other circumstances. As it was, it simply added insult to injury. Certainly, his government had followed a budget, but never in his life had Alexei had to operate under personal financial limits. The world had indeed changed.

"A budget." Roman paged through the notebook, his voice firm.

"You said it was not dire." Dimitri muttered.

"Nor is it." Roman said, without looking up. "You can. Your Highness, continue to live in your accustomed style for the most part although a reasonable element of frugality would be wise. Nothing drastic, mind you, staff does not need to be let go—"

"Thank God." Dimitri said under his breath.

"—however Captain Petrov and I will both have to accept a severe reduction in our wages."

"What?" Dimitri stared.

"Which we will do gladly and in a most gracious manner." Roman leveled a firm look at Dimitri. The other man smiled weakly. "Gladly."

"You do realize I cannot permit that." Alexei met Roman's gaze. "Given the circumstances, it is a most generous, even charitable offer but—"

"Forgive me. Your Highness, it is neither generous nor charitable." Neither Roman's gaze nor his voice wavered. "When the captain and I chose to throw our lot in with yours we knew full well that life in the future would be uncertain."

"Apparently you knew more than I." Alexei said wryly.

"As I often do. Your Highness." The smile in his eyes belied the tone of his voice. "It is precisely why you depend on me."

Alexei had depended on the count's counsel for the last three years. Roman had long been one of Alexei's few true friends but had only served as chief of staff after the man who had previously held that position had proven to be a traitor in league with Alexei's cousin Valentina's plot to overthrow the king.

"Do keep in mind. Your Highness, this is a temporary state." Roman said, leafing through his notebook.

"I am certain your accounts will be available to you fairly soon." Alexei studied the other man. "How soon?"

"Given the cautious nature of British banking and the intricacies of diplomacy." Roman studied the open page, then looked at Alexei with a confident air. "a few months at the most. No longer than autumn surely."

"But in the meantime we need to be"—Dimitri shuddered—"frugal?" Roman cast him a quelling glance. At moments like these. Alexei was hard-pressed to remember that Roman was no more than a scant handful of years older than the other men.

"I see." Alexei thought for a moment. "Then our plan to buy an estate in the country is at a standstill?"

"Not at all. Your Highness." Roman said quickly. "We can certainly continue our search for the right property. Such things take time, as do the negotiations for sale."

"But I cannot actually purchase said property at the moment?" Roman shook his head. "Regrettably, no."

"So we are trapped for the time being in London."

"Like rats." Dimitri muttered. Dimitri shared his prince's opinion of London and England.

"Hardly, Captain." Roman said coolly. "London is one of the great capitals of Europe, and it is the start of the social season here. Even though His Highness has chosen to keep his presence quiet and therefore will not be receiving invitations to any number of festivities, there remain no end of inexpensive amusements we can avail ourselves of if we so choose."