Stories? He snorted to himself. If Lady Helmsley only knew she wasn’t the only one experienced in spinning stories. He downed the rest of his champagne, then nodded at a passing footman, who relieved him of both empty glasses.
“Your wife is lovely.”
“Thank you.” Matt turned with a grin. “I think so.” His smile froze. He stared at a man of his own height and build, with eyes the color of his and hair nearly the same shade. A man who was almost a mirror image. Not quite a twin.
His breath caught and blood roared in his ears. “Stephen?”
Absolutely a brother.
The corner of Stephen Weston’s mouth quirked upward. “Have I changed that much?”
“No.” Matt stared in disbelief. “Not at all.” Without thinking, he reached out and clasped his brother’s hand in both of his. “I would have known you anywhere.”
“Come, now, Matt, is that all I get after ten full years?” Stephen pulled him into a hard quick hug, then held him out at arm’s length. “You look good. The life of an adventurer suits you.”
“An adventurer?” Matt laughed. “Hardly that.”
“No?” Stephen raised a brow. “What would you call a man who first served in His Majesty’s Navy, then turned to sailing the skies?”
“Something of a fool, actually,” Matt said wryly.
Stephen laughed and slapped him on the back. “Damn, I have missed you.” He nodded toward a row of
French doors on the far side of the ballroom. “Come on, there’s a terrace out there where we can talk. It’s too bloody crowded in here for my taste.”
He started toward the doors, Matt trailing a step behind. At once he was struck with a sense of familiarity. Stephen was older by barely a year and Matt had spent most of his childhood at his brother’s heels.
“Besides, we can have a cigar.” Stephen glanced back over his shoulder. “Of course, if you don’t like cigars…”
Matt grinned. “I have been known to indulge on occasion.”
A few minutes later, the brothers leaned on the stone balustrade overlooking the Effington grounds. Stars glittered overhead and strategically located candelabras cast circles of light. Stephen’s cigars were excellent and Matt puffed appreciatively, grateful for both the quality of the tobacco and the reprieve from more serious matters the simple act of lighting up cigars provided.
“So…” Matt drew a deep breath.
“You are wondering what I am doing here.” Stephen grinned. “The Dowager Duchess of Roxborough is not above meddling to suit her purposes. I’d wager she had a note written and on its way to us before you did more than bid her good day. She thinks it’s time to put the past to rest.”
“She’s made no secret of her opinion.”
“And we agree.”
“We?”
“We. All of us.” Stephen puffed on his cigar. “Alec—you do realize he is the marquess now and head of the family?”
Matt nodded.
“He, James, grandmother and I are in accord on this.” Stephen cocked his cigar at his brother.
“Grandmother was pleased, by the way, to learn of your marriage.”
“Was she?” A heavy weight settled in Matt’s stomach.
“Yes, indeed. Quite pleased. She is not as spry as she used to be and much crankier than she once was. One of her favorite themes is the lack of females at Weston Manor.”
“So none of you have married?”
Stephen flicked an ash over the side of the terrace and shook his head. “No one has managed to leg-shackle us yet. Of course, Alec, as the title holder, is the most in demand, but he is barely one and thirty, with plenty of time to wed and sire an heir. And neither James nor I are in any particular hurry.” He grinned in a slightly wicked manner. “We are having entirely too much fun.”
Matt laughed. Stephen joined him, then sobered. “It has been far too long, little brother, and you have been missed.”
“I have missed all of you as well.” Emotion swelled within him and he puffed quickly to disguise it.
“That’s good to hear.” Stephen studied the glowing end of his cigar. “Alec and James wanted to come with me tonight, but we decided I should come alone.” He met his brother’s gaze directly. “We didn’t know what kind of reception we’d get. If you had yet forgiven us.”
“If I had forgiven you?” Matt started with surprise. “What was there for me to forgive?”
“We did nothing at the time to stop events between you and Father from unfolding as they did.” Stephen chose his words with care. “We have talked about our lack of action through the years and it weighs heavily on us.”
Matt stared for a long moment, then laughed.
“I’m glad you find this amusing,” Stephen said dryly.
“Not amusing, exactly, simply ironic.”
“Oh?”
“You see, I feared the reception I would get if I ever dared set foot in Weston Manor again.” Matt chuckled. “I was concerned that you had not forgiven me.”
“Not forgive you? Now, that makes no sense whatsoever.”
“Perhaps.” It had made perfect sense to Matt for the better part of a decade. For the first time in his life he was glad to learn he was wrong.
“You know, Matt, someone rather wise once told us you would come home when the time was right.”
“Who? The dowager duchess?”
“No.” Stephen smiled. “Father.”
A sense of loss so great it was almost physical slammed into Matt. For a long time he could do nothing but stare out into the night.
“I was such a fool,” he said under his breath.
“Not at all.” Stephen’s voice was thoughtful. “You were the youngest of four sons. And so much like Father it was inevitable you would not get along.”
“I regret—”
“Of course you do. As did he. But he bore you no ill will. In fact, he knew, in general, where you were at any given moment, what battles your ship was in, what your duties were. He kept track of every promotion, every honor. I’m not sure how he managed any of it, but he did.”
The back of Matt’s throat ached.
“We all had our disputes with him, Matt. More and more as he, and we, grew older. You were simply the most unyielding, the one who refused to compromise—”
“The stupidest.”
“Give me a chance. I was going to say that.”
Matt blew a resigned breath. “But I am the only one he threw out.”
“Threw out? I was under the impression you walked. Or rather ran.”
“Semantics, brother.” Matt grinned. “Let us say it was a mutual parting of the ways.”
“Agreed. So…” Stephen puffed on his cigar, tilted back his head and blew a long stream of smoke into the air. “When are you coming home?”
Chapter 16
“I have a cousin in Avalonia named Tatiana.” Viscount Beaumont kissed Tatiana’s hand and smiled. “It’s a beautiful name.”
“Perhaps that is why it is so common in my country.” Tatiana laughed lightly.
“Perhaps.” The viscount studied her for a moment. “I have the strangest feeling we’ve met somewhere before.”
“Really?” She considered him curiously, then shook her head. “It is probably nothing more than the belief I have noted among the English that all foreigners look alike. Besides, my lord, if we had met, I am quite certain you would remember.”
A startled expression crossed Beaumont’s face, then he grinned. “Indeed I would, my lady.”
“If you will forgive me”—she peered around him and waved to an imaginary acquaintance—“I see someone I promised to speak to.”
“Of course.” His pleasant smile belied the puzzled look in his eye. “We can talk again later, perhaps.”
“I shall look forward to it.” She nodded and walked away, knowing full well his gaze followed her. Of course she looked familiar. She looked exactly like his grandmother. Tatiana would not be at all surprised if there was not a portrait of Sophia hanging somewhere right next to the one of her husband she had brought with her from Avalonia. A portrait Beaumont had probably seen throughout his life. She accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter and casually glanced back to see if Beaumont still watched her. He had turned away and was speaking to his wife. Tatiana sipped thoughtfully. So this was the cousin who had helped her brother Alexei calm the mood of the people in Avalonia. From what Alexei had written in his letter, Beaumont wanted no part, or at least no significant part, of his hereditary title. That attitude might well make the viscount a powerful ally for her in the future. However,
the future was not her immediate concern.
She searched the room for her husband. She had last seen Matthew, accompanied by another gentleman, going out the doors leading to the terrace. Perhaps he was still there. This was the first time she had been introduced to a group of people as his wife. It was disconcerting not to be treated with the deference usually accorded her as a princess, yet it was also rather refreshing. When gentlemen kissed her hand and gazed into her eyes this evening, the object of their attraction was the woman before them, not the title. Even so, she was surprisingly ill at ease at being publicly proclaimed Tatiana Weston, Lady Matthew. She might lie better than Matthew, but her conscience apparently worked as well as his. Even if the title and the name were both legitimate, she could not ignore the feeling that she was deceiving everyone she met. Worse, these Effingtons were a remarkably friendly and candid group. Unlike most noble families of her acquaintance, these people seemed to enjoy one another’s company. In truth, they appeared to actually like each other. It was most disconcerting and provoked the oddest twinge of envy. Certainly, she loved her father and brothers, but the time they spent together was surrounded by the pomp and ceremony of office. Dinners were state occasions, balls were public events, a few hours on horseback were significant undertakings, even a picnic outing involved a full entourage and advance planning. Would she miss the trappings and accoutrements of a royal life? A life spent always in the light of public scrutiny and private pressure? A life of princely wealth and personal power?
Of course she would. She would be the worst kind of fool if she did not. Tatiana did not especially look forward to living on Matthew’s income. However, she did have substantial personal wealth that would remain hers regardless of her position, even if there was an excellent chance Matthew would not accept it. Well, she would not dwell on that possibility now.
Thus far, Lady Helmsley—or Marianne, as she had insisted Tatiana call her—had introduced her to what was possibly every Effington in existence. She would have no trouble remembering the current Duke and Duchess of Roxborough—they were a duke and duchess, after all—but the myriad of other faces, titles and names of children, grandchildren and cousins could not possibly be committed to memory without extensive study. She would much prefer having Matthew at her side during all this. Even if the man did not know these people personally, he was familiar with the family itself. Besides, that annoying sensation of dishonesty still plagued her. At least with Matthew here, she would have his looks of disapproval and the double meaning of his comments to distract her from any nagging feelings of guilt. She reached the row of French doors and stepped out onto the terrace. Stars twinkled above and candles set in elaborate candelabra flickered on a more earthly plane. The night was warm, the breeze gentle and the faintest floral scent lingered in the air. All in all, it was the perfect setting for a romantic assignation or an illicit rendezvous. She couldn’t resist a wicked smile. If Matthew was not now on the terrace, it would be a fine idea to find him and accompany him here. She moved away from the doors. “Matthew?”
“Oh, he left quite some time ago. With his brother, I believe.” A voice sounded from the shadows. Tatiana’s blood froze. The champagne glass slipped from her hand and shattered on the stone terrace.
“It must be the night for family reunions, do you not think so… Your Highness?”
Tatiana drew a deep breath, marshaled all her courage and forced a cool, unconcerned note to her voice. “What are you doing here, Cousin?”
“What? No pleasantries? No declarations of how very much you have missed me? No pretense at affection? How disappointing.” The Princess Valentina sauntered out of the shadows. “But as to your question, I was invited.”
Tatiana raised a brow. “I doubt that.”
“Very well.” The older woman shrugged. “The gentleman I am with was invited. He is some sort of distant relation to these Effingtons and really quite boring, but he does prove useful. This gathering was most fortuitous as well, and I understand I have your presence to thank for that, although I had already convinced him that it would be the height of disrespect not to pay a visit to the dowager duchess.”
Tatiana folded her arms over her chest. “Why are you here?”
“For the exact same reason you are here, dearest cousin.” Valentina shook open her fan and waved it before her face as if she were discussing nothing more important than the latest bit of royal gossip. “What a pity the fabled Heavens of Avalonia are missing. And for such a long time too. Such a shame for the country and, especially, for the ruling branch of the House of Pruzinsky.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Oh, do cease the pretense, Tatiana, you know exactly what I am talking about. However, if you insist, I shall play your silly game.” She heaved a sigh of boredom. “I know the Heavens have disappeared. I know this was only discovered recently. And I further know their disappearance dates back to Princess Sophia’s leaving Avalonia some fifty or more years ago.”