"She then joined her cousin and her aunt, and they have traveled the world ever since, only returning to London when they inherited the house. " Roman paused. "Her cousin says she has changed a great deal from the reserved, quiet creature she once was."
"Quiet and reserved?"
"Difficult to imagine I know, Your Highness, yet Lady Overton swears it is true."
"Miss Effington said something about that. What was it?" He thought for a moment. "Something about having worn a shoe, no, having been a shoe that did not fit." Roman's brow furrowed. "That makes no sense."
"In truth, Roman, it does. Not everyone is fortunate enough always to understand his own nature. To never doubt his own worth or abilities and to have the confidence such understanding provides. Or if you will"—he smiled—"the arrogance."
"Then arrogance is not necessarily a bad thing, Your Highness."
"You are a loyal sort, Roman."
Roman laughed. "Indeed, I am. There I was alone with a woman who may well be all I have ever wanted—"
Alexei pulled his horse to a stop and stared. "What?"
Roman grimaced. "Not precisely what I had planned, but—"
"But this is not the sort of thing one does plan. " Alexei slapped his old friend across the back. "It is the sort of thing that smacks you across the face when you least expect it." Roman nodded reluctantly. "The sort of thing that twists your stomach until you wonder that you can eat at all."
"That turns you into a blithering idiot."
"Precisely at the very time you need all your wits about you."
"That makes you question your sanity for even thinking for a moment that a woman as annoying as she is could be the one woman who has captured your heart."
Roman chuckled. "Your Highness, I daresay Lady Over—"
Alexei continued without pause. "The sort of thing that brings to mind absurd questions of forever and until death and all those things that cannot possibly work because you are who you are."
"Your Highness, I cannot imagine—"
"And makes you realize when you had the world to offer you could give nothing but your heart, and now all you have is your heart and nothing else. " His words seemed to come of their own accord. "So it is beyond ridiculous to so much as consider the idea of falling in love, let alone marriage, even if at the point that you realize it you realize as well that it might be too late."
"Your Highness—"
"That you may have already lost your heart, but it scarcely matters because you cannot burden her with what you have become, with the pathetic remains of your life because, in truth, regardless of how you feel, there can be no future for the two of you. And you care for her too much to allow her to share a fate you detest and condemn her to watch you wallow in regret for the rest of her days." Roman's mouth dropped open, and he stared.
At once, Alexei was struck by what he had said. Just how much he had revealed. Not just to Roman but to himself. He had not realized how he felt about himself and his future. And he had not noticed he had been falling in love. Why would he? He had only felt even remotely like this once, and he never saw her face. Now he knew full well the face of the lady who had captured his heart. He could see it with his eyes closed. The curve of her cheek. The arch of her brow. The sable darkness of her eyes. Not that it mattered.
He shrugged his comments off. "You do understand I am speaking in a strictly theoretical sense."
"Theoretical? Exactly what I was thinking, Your Highness. " A casual note sounded in Roman's voice.
"In a nontheoretical sense, would you care to know what else I have discovered about Miss Effington?"
"As you went to the trouble... " Alexei's tone matched his friend's as if anything regarding Pamela was of no particular concern.
"Only that it is entirely possible Miss Effington was indeed your mysterious liaison in Venice. The dates of your respective stays in that city four years ago overlap considerably."
"I see. " Was it at all possible? Just two days ago he had been certain it wasn't. Now...
"Are you going to confront Miss Effington then?"
"She denies we have ever met. No, upon reflection... " Alexei searched his memory. "In truth, the blasted woman does not deny it at all, she simply evades the question. Or twists it to her own advantage. One minute I'm demanding to know where we have met, the next I am an arrogant ass. " He chuckled.
"Oh, she is a devious creature."
"As are you, " Roman said smoothly. "What do you intend to do?"
"I intend to find out the truth, and I will use whatever means at my disposal. I may not know her face, and I may well have enjoyed any number of other women in my life, but I have never forgotten so much as one detail of that night. If she is the one, I will know. " His blood quickened at the thought.
"Seduction?"
"Reunion. An entirely different thing from seduction."
"And if this woman who has already apparently captured your heart is the woman who has long haunted your dreams, what then Your Highness?"
What then indeed?
"I do not know. I never imagined I would find her again even if I have always believed there was an element of destiny in that particular night. If they are one and the same... I shall face that revelation when, or if, I come to it. " He narrowed his gaze. "Miss Effington insists on playing a game with me, Roman. She has laid down a challenge with her refusal to answer my questions, and if she has nothing to hide it makes no sense. However, I have no particular aversion to games, and I always win. And that, old friend, is not arrogance but a simple statement of fact."
"It is a dangerous game, is it not, Your Highness?" Roman's voice was casual, as if his words did not matter. "Your heart may already be at stake, and to my knowledge you have never risked your heart before."
"There is risk in any game where there is only one victor." Perhaps there could be no future with Pamela or Serenissima. Perhaps there could only be today.
"My life seems to be filled these days with things I have never done before. With a fate that is uncertain. This is no different. But I have always enjoyed games, puzzles, and the like. And regardless of the outcome"—he smiled in a wry manner—"I intend to enjoy this one."
Nine
When I see Millicent again I absolutely will not allow her to see that she once broke my heart. Ishall be remote and aloof. Furthermore, I shall resist the urge to put her over my knee and spankher thoroughly. After her years abroad she might well like it.
Sir Winchester Roberts
"Miss Effington—Pamela—I am so pleased you agreed to see me." Alexei crossed the library floor to greet Pamela with an eager step. Her heart fluttered at the look in his eye. "I feared after our ride this morning you would avoid me. You were gone most of the day."
"I was with my family. It was most enjoyable. As for avoiding you—nonsense." Pamela favored him with her brightest smile. One would never have imagined a scant few hours ago she had been ready to throttle him. Of course, he had been ready to throttle her as well. "Besides, I could scarcely ignore a note as charming as yours, Your Highness." She held out her hand.
"Alexei."
"It held the proper tone of apology then?" He raised her hand to his lips.
"Indeed it did."
"An appropriate amount of remorse?" His gaze locked on hers.
"Appropriate, yes."
"As well as regret." He turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her wrist. "Repentance." She arched a brow. "It was not that long a note."
"Do you forgive me then?"
"Yes, of course." As much as she would have left her hand in his forever, she pulled it away. "What, specifically, am I to forgive you for?"
He gasped in feigned disbelief. "Why, for my boorish, arrogant attitude, of course. Your secrets are your secrets, your past is your past. And if we have indeed met in the past, and you do not wish to acknowledge it, I can only imagine you have your reasons."
"You can?" She studied him curiously. Alexei did not strike her as the kind of man to give up easily.
"What I cannot imagine is what they are although any number of possibilities come to mind."
"Do they?"
"I have a surprisingly fertile imagination on occasion, Pamela, and I have been allowing it free rein to speculate on the question of why a woman I have met, indeed, a woman I know I have kissed—"
"Because you never forget a woman that you kiss?"
"Exactly."
"Dare I ask what answers you have arrived at?"
"I was hoping you would." He clasped his hands behind his back and paced the room in perfect imitation of a Latin tutor she'd had as a girl. "First, I thought perhaps you had had a horrible accident and lost your memory entirely."
She shook her head. "I don't recall ever losing my memory."
"Ah, but then you would not remember if you had, would you?"
"Excellent point."
"Then I considered the possibility that the kiss in question was an embarrassment for one of us, or both of us, and you have therefore hidden it away with other unpleasant memories of your past." She stifled a smile. "Not a good kiss then?"
"Rather far-fetched I know, but a possibility nonetheless. Next, I wondered if perhaps my kiss had, well, spoiled you for anyone else, ever, and you had thought it best to put it out of your mind altogether." He glanced at her. "In the interest of avoiding disappointment in the future of course."
"I see." She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "If your kiss—"
"On further thought, I believe it would more appropriate to call it our kiss."
"Very well. Either our kiss was so dreadful I would not wish to remember it or so wonderful I would force myself to forget it because"—she shook her head in confusion—"how was that again?"
"Because you would compare every other man to me and"—he flashed her a wicked grin—"they would not fare well."
She laughed.
"You must admit that last part sounds quite conceivable."
"Rather an arrogant answer though, don't you think?"
"Yes, well, apparently arrogance is my cross to bear in addition to my charm. What do you think of my theories?"
"Very good." She grinned. "Quite plausible."
"Do any sound, oh, accurate?"
She thought for a moment. "I should term them interesting rather than accurate."
"I am glad you think so." He bit back a smile, then waved at a tray bearing a teapot, cups, and a biscuit plate placed on one side of the table near the fireplace. The ever-present decanter of brandy and glasses remained on the other side of the table, thanks to the always efficient Graham. "Would you care for refreshment? I thought you might like tea or even brandy if you prefer. This late in the day, I enjoy a good brandy although it may well still be too early for you."
"Tea would be fine. I suspect I shall need all my wits about me." Alexei grinned in a most knowing way that did the oddest things to the pit of her stomach. This would never do. In another minute she would throw herself into his arms. She drew a steadying breath and glanced around. "Is Graham hiding in the shadows, or shall I pour it myself?" Alexei chuckled. "Neither Graham nor your aunt is anywhere to be found at the moment. I have made certain of it."
"Have you?" She moved to the tray, poured a cup then perched on the edge of a sofa. "Why?"
"Because I wish to speak with you alone."
She narrowed her gaze. "Why?"
He laughed. "Come now, Pamela, you need not look at me that way. I have apologized. I have even groveled a bit—"
"Hardly."
"Admittedly I do not grovel well." He shrugged. "I have had very little practice."
"I should be happy to help you do something about that." She smiled sweetly.
"I am certain you would. Another time perhaps." His tone was brisk. "As to your question, I simply do not think we know each other well enough to be able to carry off this charade of ours. We appear in public for the first time tomorrow, and there are any number of things I do not know about you." She sipped her tea and studied him over the rim of her cup. "What would you like to know?"
"Well, I think a man who intends to marry a woman would know, oh, say, what color she prefers."
"Blue."
"The blue of the sea during a storm or the blue of the sky at midday?"
"A storm I should think," she said without pause. "I rather like storms."
"Excellent choice." An intriguing gleam sparked in his clear, brown eyes.
"Flowers?"
"Roses."
"Of course. Red?"
"Yellow."
"How every interesting." He sipped his brandy thoughtfully. "Composer?"
"I like any number of composers. Haydn, Bach." She thought for a moment. "Schubert."
"Books?"
"Far too many to mention." She set down her cup, rose to her feet, and moved to the nearest bookshelf. Her gaze skimmed the spines of books that looked as if they had not been disturbed for years, but she was far more aware of Alexei pouring himself a brandy than of any of the titles before her. "I have always rather liked stories of adventure. Emmeline was a favorite when I was a girl, as well as The Mysteries ofUdolpho and Cecilia."