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Authors: Victoria Alexander

Tags: #Historical

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BOOK: When We Meet Again
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"Of course there are." A firm tone sounded in Alexei's voice and he feigned enthusiasm. "Museums and galleries of art and libraries and the like." He glanced at Roman, who nodded. "Why in this very room there are enough books to keep us busy for years!"

"Books?" Skepticism sounded in Dimitri's voice. He had never been overscholarly.

"An excellent idea. Your Highness." Roman's voice rang with approval. "We could all spend these next few months improving our minds, expanding our intellectual horizons. Such a pursuit would not only be beneficial but a great deal of fun as well."

Dimitri met Alexei's gaze. "Fun?"

Alexei grinned.
He was not much more of a scholar than his friend, and the idea of spending the next few months expanding his intellectual horizons held little appeal. At once, it struck him that he really had no idea how he would spend the upcoming months or years, or the rest of his life for that matter. From the moment he had made his decision to give up his birthright and his country he had lived—or rather existed—in a maelstrom of emotions that would have overwhelmed him if he had so permitted. Instead, he'd ignored them or perhaps controlled them, pushed them to the back of his mind, the back of his heart, and had focused all his efforts and energy on simply putting one foot in front of the other. On functioning as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. On remembering to breathe. He had made the decisions he had needed to make about his departure, and that of those who chose to accompany him, efficiently and with a minimum of sentiment. He had decided upon England and had further decided to reside quietly in the country. Possibly as a way to avoid a world he no longer had a place in and avoid as well a future he had never considered.

Or perhaps as penance.

His responsibilities, his very life, had changed dramatically. He had no idea what tomorrow might hold, but today it was indeed up to him to make the best of it. For himself and for his friends. He had no choice.

"We have scarcely been in London a fortnight, gentlemen." Alexei clasped his hands behind his back and paced the room. "It seems to me we have several options as to how to occupy our time in the coming weeks or"—he winced in spite of himself—"even months. I can abandon my desire for anonymity. We can indeed make our presence here known publicly and be feted, wined and dined in the manner to which we are accustomed."

"An excellent idea. Your Highness." Dimitri tried and failed to hide the enthusiasm in his voice.

"If that is your preference." Roman's manner was noncommittal. "I have heard the English are exceptionally fond of visiting royalty."

Alexei raised a wry brow. "Even those without a country?"

"From what I understand, especially those without a country. There is an element of romance and, oh, what is the right word"—Roman thought for a moment—"accessibility I should think, perhaps even mystery or—"

"Sympathy? Pity?" Alexei pressed his lips together. "I have no desire to be pitied." He paused and gazed out the window that overlooked the back gardens. "My sister is expecting her second child and cannot travel. I have already sent word to her and my cousin informing them of our presence here but no one else. We shall live quietly and in a reserved manner for the duration of our stay in London. Perhaps, at some point, when we have found a suitable estate and have settled into life here..." Then what? Would he wish to partake of society's amusements one day? Or would he prefer to spend the rest of his life in seclusion, dwelling on the past? Even given his current melancholy temperament it was not a pleasant prospect. He was scarcely five-and-thirty years of age. Far too young for his days to be at an end.

"As you wish. Your Highness." Dimitri heaved a sigh of resignation. A discreet knock sounded at the door.

Alexei nodded at Roman, who stepped to the door and pulled it open.

"I beg your pardon. Your Highness," Graham, the servant who acted as both butler and majordomo and was indeed the manager of the household, stepped into the room. "You have a caller." Roman waved him off. "His Highness is not receiving visitors today."

"Precisely what I explained to the lady, my lord, but she was very insistent. And sir"—Graham paused in a manner that might have been termed dramatic if the butler was given to such emotions—"she has baggage."

"Baggage?" Roman frowned.

"A lady?" Dimitri grinned.

"A great deal of baggage." Graham added.

Alexei thought for a moment. As far as he knew, his presence in London was not common knowledge. Still, they had not been overly secretive, simply discreet. They would not be difficult to locate for someone determined or desperate enough to do so. He nodded at the butler. "Show her in." The butler took his leave, and Roman stepped toward Alexei, concern sounding in his voice. "Your Highness, is that wise?"

Alexei shrugged. "Probably not. However, a lady with all her worldly possessions in tow might well have fled her home precisely as we have."

Dimitri's brows drew together. "An exile from Avalonia perhaps?"

"Perhaps." Alexei nodded. "As such we cannot turn her away without so much as a word." Roman shook his head. "Still, Your Highness, you cannot—"

"Alexei!" A tall, dark-haired woman swept into the room. "Dear, dear cousin, how are you?" At once. Dimitri stepped in front of Alexei and instinctively reached for the sword he no longer carried.

"Valentina?" Alexei stared in disbelief. The Princess Valentina Pruzinsky, his cousin and for much of his life his nemesis, was the last person he expected to see here or indeed ever again. He narrowed his gaze.

"What in the name of all that is holy are you doing here?"

"I am here because you are here, cousin." She cast him a brilliant smile.

"Allow me to run her through. Your Highness." Dimitri said out of the corner of his mouth. "Slay her where she stands."

"Ah, the ever-loyal Captain Petrov." Valentina fluttered her lashes at the soldier. "It is so good to see you are as charming as ever."

"You do not have a sword, Captain." Roman said coolly, his gaze never leaving Valentina. "However, I believe there may well be a pistol in the house somewhere."

"Do try to control yourselves, gentlemen." Valentina rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. "I realize we might well share a less than pleasant history—"

"Less than pleasant? Less than pleasant!" Dimitri sputtered, his eyes darkening with outrage.

"I should term it deadly myself." Alexei stepped around Dimitri and studied his cousin. "You attempted to seize the throne from my father and fomented revolution among the people."

"And failed rather miserably I might point out. Besides, that is all in the past." Valentina waved off the comment. "It is over and done with. Ancient history as it were. Scarcely worth mentioning now." Alexei gritted his teeth. "You nearly caused the death of my sister in your efforts to steal the jewels that are Avalonia's heritage."

"I did not try to steal them." Valentina huffed. "I was trying to recover them. They were missing, if you recall, and had been for a fair number of years. And, in point of fact, Tatiana was not killed and suffered no more than a momentary inconvenience. Why, some might even call it a rather extraordinary adventure."

"I could strangle her with my bare hands. Your Highness." Dimitri said in a low voice. Alexei ignored him. "Why are you here?"

"Why?" She glanced down at her hands and began to draw off her gloves in a slow and deliberate manner, an obvious effort to buy time to choose her words. "I have come to apologize and make amends."

Roman stared suspiciously. "Amends?"

Dimitri snorted in disbelief. "Apologize?"

Alexei drew his brows together. "Do you expect me to believe you?"

"No," she said, her gaze still focused on her hands. She pulled off one glove and started on the other. "In truth, I have no idea how to go about this. I'm not sure I have ever apologized for anything before." At once it struck Alexei that if indeed his proud, imperious cousin meant what she said, this was exceedingly difficult for her.

"However," she drew a deep breath and met his gaze directly, "I am sorry for...everything." Dimitri scoffed.

"Everything?" Alexei said coolly.

"I will not lie to you, especially as there is no reason to do so now. Everything I have ever done was done for the good of my country. For most of my life, I believed my family and, ultimately, I were better fit to rule Avalonia than you and yours. Every action I have taken was toward achieving that end."

"This is an apology?" Dimitri said in an aside to Roman.

"No." Valentina's eyes narrowed at Dimitri. "This is an explanation. I will apologize for my actions but not my beliefs. Indeed, if I had succeeded, we might still have a home today."

"If you had succeeded, there would have been vast bloodshed when Russia finally chose to seize Avalonia." Alexei's voice was cool and unemotional, but his jaw clenched. "Great numbers of our people would have been slaughtered, the country destroyed."

She paused for a long moment, then heaved a resigned sigh. "Possibly." Alexei raised a brow. "Surely you are not admitting you might well be wrong?"

"Exile, cousin, gives one a great deal of time to think. I had never especially considered the right or wrong, in a moral sense, of my actions, only what I thought was best for my country." Her eyes glistened.

"Avalonia was my soul and the soul of my father. He was too weak to challenge your branch of the family for leadership, but what he lacked he instilled in me.

"However, circumstances, the way life has changed, that is, have led me to regret the actions I have taken in the past. Indeed. I accept now that my methods may well have been...well"—she shrugged—

"wrong, again in a moral sense, and for that I am sorry, but I shall never apologize for the reasons for them."

Alexei stared at her for a long moment. She appeared sincere, but he did not trust her and probably never would. Still, the reason for the discord between her side of the family and his no longer existed. There was nothing left to fight over. At this point, she had nothing to gain with her apologies.

"Why are you here?" he asked once again.

"I thought it was time that you and I mended the rift between us. We are family, after all, and, in truth, we have very little family left. And if we are not bound together by blood, then surely we are bound together by loss. I also thought... that is to say I felt...or rather I wished..." She floundered, obviously at a loss for words.

"Yes?" Alexei prompted.

She grimaced and her gaze met his. "I had nowhere else to go."

"Of course." Roman murmured.

"Ah-hah!" Dimitri smirked. "I suspected as much." Valentina ignored him. "My funds are seriously depleted. Indeed. I have very little money left at all. My country is gone. I am a widow twice over—"

"And where does the fault lie for that?" Dimitri said darkly. It had long been rumored that the deaths of both Valentina's first and second husbands were at her hand.

Of course, both gentlemen were well past their prime when they had married her, and neither had gone to his final reward in a manner or at an age that could be considered untimely. Still, the gossip had lingered probably because Valentina had not been married to either of them for much more than a year. And they had both had substantial fortunes.

She slanted Dimitri a look that could well prove the demise of any man. Husband or otherwise. He didn't so much as flinch. She turned her attention away from the captain in a manner that could only be described as regal. Alexei had the most unreasonable urge to grin.

"Cousin. Alexei. Your"—she closed her eyes for a moment as if to gather strength— "Highness. I am throwing myself on your mercy as it were. As a citizen of Avalonia and a member of your own family I am asking for, well, sanctuary. A haven. Asylum I should think."

"Asylum?" Alexei stared in disbelief then laughed. "I have no asylum to offer. I am not a church offering sanctuary, and I am no longer the sovereign of a country."

"Perhaps asylum was the wrong word." She stepped toward him. "What I need is a home. Alexei. I have not lived my life in a manner that would ensure friends, and you are my only family. Allow me to join your"—she cast a disgusted glance at Dimitri—"household. I am not without certain skills, you know. I am an excellent hostess and, as you have no wife, when you entertain—"

"I have no intention of entertaining." Alexei's voice was firm. Valentina's eyes widened. "Why on earth not?"

"His Highness has no desire to partake of society," Roman said staunchly. "He much prefers a more solitary existence at the moment to reflect and ponder the future."

"You can't possibly be serious." Valentina scoffed. "Regardless of the state of the world, you are still a prince of Avalonia, the head of the Royal House of Pruzinsky, which carries certain responsibilities, social at the very least. It is your duty to present yourself in public if only to show the world that we may be beaten, but we are not destroyed. Besides, one makes all sorts of valuable contacts that—"

"To what purpose?" Alexei snapped, his gaze boring into hers. The very room itself held its breath. Valentina stared at her cousin, a myriad of emotion flashing across her face. At last she drew a deep breath. "I do not know. But I will not hide myself from the world."

BOOK: When We Meet Again
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