When We Meet Again (25 page)

Pamela glanced at her cousin and grinned. "My, that is fortunate."

"Indeed it is. For me." Clarissa laughed. "As for you, now that we have a moment to ourselves do you wish to tell me what has been on your mind all day?"

Pamela shrugged. "What could possibly be on my mind?"

"Besides His Highness?" Clarissa grinned. "I have no idea."

"I don't know what to do about him." She blew a long breath. "He wants me, cousin, as much as I want him."

"Well then—"

"But he claims to have no interest in marriage. And does so in a tone that brooks no argument and allows no discussion."

"That is a problem."

Pamela forced a casual note to her voice. "Have you, by any chance, discovered whether or not—"

"No," Clarissa said firmly. "I have not forgotten my promise but the opportune occasion to"—she grimaced —"interrogate the count has not yet arrived."

"Pity," Pamela murmured. "If I recall interrogation can be quite—"

"Pamela!"

"My apologies." Pamela grinned. "But teasing you is entirely too much fun to resist. And I do appreciate that you have agreed to help me. I just have one more, tiny favor to ask." Clarissa narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"In the course of your interrogation, perhaps you could find out why Alexei is so adamant about not marrying."

"I could do that, I suppose."

"Thank you." Pamela breathed a sigh of relief. "My very future depends on it."

"Your future?" Clarissa studied her for a moment. "I don't like the sound of that."

"I have a decision to make."

"I don't like the sound of that either. What decision?"

"It's really quite simple. Alexei is the only man on earth that I wish to spend my life with, and I will be with him." Pamela drew a deep breath. "Even if I cannot have him as my husband."

"I feared as much." Clarissa moved closer to her cousin, her gaze searching Pamela's. "Are you quite serious about this?"

Pamela shrugged. "I'm afraid I am."

"It sounds as if you have already made your decision," Clarissa said slowly.

"Perhaps." Pamela's stomach twisted. Long ago she had intended Alexei to be the first man in her new life as a woman of experience. Instead, he had turned out to be the only man. His declaration yesterday that he would never marry had made her think long and hard about what she was willing to give up to have him.

"I thought you did not wish to be his—"

"Mistress? I don't. And I won't, not really. As I have my own fortune now, I will never have to be dependent upon him for my keep. My existence will not be contingent on his whim."

"Pamela, I—"

"Clarissa, I would rather be with him in whatever manner necessary than live the rest of my life without him."

"I see." Clarissa thought for a moment. "Do you intend to tell him then?"

"Tell him I am willing to join him in his bed for the rest of my days without benefit of marriage?" She snorted. "I may well be in love, but I have not completely lost my mind. No. What I am willing to do and what I will do are two entirely different things."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Neither do I, dear cousin. I haven't the vaguest idea what will ultimately happen between us. Perhaps we are destined only for one night together. Well"—she flashed the other woman a wicked grin—"one more night together." She sobered, and her resolve hardened. "I want to have his children, Clarissa. I want to grow old with him. I want to spend the last moments of my life looking into his brown eyes. I shall give up whatever I must for that."

"What if he does not care for you?" Clarissa said slowly.

"At last, the heart of the matter." Pamela smiled in a grim manner. "I think he might care for me. There is something quite wonderful in his eyes but..." She shook her head. "In truth I don't know how he feels. He is an expert at flirtation. His touch, his kiss, his words..." She heaved a heartfelt sigh. "He is very good."

"Apparently," Clarissa said wryly.

"I am willing to sacrifice everything I have long thought I wanted for him, but I cannot make him love me. And as much as I want to be with him, I will not give up both marriage and love."

"Pamela." Clarissa laid a hand on her cousin's arm. "It's not too late to stop this charade. Your father has not yet made his announcement. And in truth not that many people know of this engagement of yours as of yet, and—"

"Don't be absurd." Pamela scoffed. "Even if I sound a bit melancholy at the moment, I have certainly not given up. It could well be that by this time tomorrow, His Highness will have fallen head over heels for me and will realize he cannot live without me. As his wife preferably. No, I shall act out this comedy of ours until the final curtain falls.

"Besides, if I am to spend my life living in Great-aunt Elizabeth's house with Aunt Millicent or, worse, alone, I should at least like to have memories of my royal engagement to look back on."

"Nonsense. I will be with you always," Clarissa said staunchly.

"You, my dear loyal cousin"—Pamela linked her arm through Clarissa's—"will no doubt be wed before the month is out."

"Roman has not spoken of marriage."

"He will, I am certain of it. If only to save you from living out the remainder of your days with a bitter old crone."

Clarissa laughed. "I cannot imagine you being a bitter old crone."

"Oh I intend to be extremely bitter as well as quite annoying, demanding, and irascible. And absolutely eccentric." Pamela laughed. "Do believe me when I say you are far better off with your Count Stefanovich than you would ever be with me."

"Talking about me again, Lady Overton?" Count Stefanovich stepped to Clarissa's side, took her hand, and lifted it to his lips. "Did I fare well in the discussion?"

"I have not yet decided, my lord." Clarissa's gaze met his, and they could have been quite alone rather than in a crush of ball guests for all the notice they took of anyone else. Pamela's heart caught at the look that passed between them. She was at once distinctly envious and most pleased for this cousin who was her dearest friend. Clarissa well deserved to find happiness again.

"Good evening, Miss Effington." The count reluctantly dropped Clarissa's hand to take Pamela's.

"Delightful gathering thus far."

"My mother will be very pleased you think so," Pamela said lightly. "Is His Highness enjoying himself as well?"

"I rather doubt it at the moment, Miss Effington." The count chuckled. "When last I saw him he was on his way to a meeting with your father."

"My father?" Pamela's voice rose. "Why would he wish to speak to my father?"

"First of all, Miss Effington, it was not His Highness who wished to speak with your father, but your father who asked to speak with him." Stefanovich looked distinctly amused. "And secondly, it is my understanding that fathers of ladies about to be wed often wish to speak with the gentleman involved regarding any number of issues."

Pamela groaned. "Dear Lord, take me now."

The count laughed. "I cannot imagine it is as bad as all that." He leaned closer to her, his words for her alone. "Take heart, Miss Effington. The play has just begun, and who knows how it may end."

"Is the ending in doubt?" Pamela's gaze met Stefanovich's.

"I daresay the ending is always in doubt when the play is being written as it is performed," he said.

"Then is it a comedy or a tragedy we play, my lord?"

"It is a farce, Miss Effington." Stefanovich smiled. "Nuances of the plot will determine its end, but by its nature, it is most amusing and enjoyable."

"For the audience perhaps," Pamela said wryly.

The count chuckled. "I suspect the enjoyment of the actors is directly proportional to their skill."

"And skill is yet to be determined?" She laughed. "I must confess I have never embarked upon a stage of such magnitude. Indeed, any deceptions I may have undertaken in the past pale in comparison to this."

"I imagine the difficulty increases without props, costumes"—he paused—"masks, that sort of thing."

"A mask would be most welcome at the moment." The light tone of her voice belied the clenching of her stomach. Surely it was no more than a coincidence that the count had mentioned masks. "As would my fellow actor."

"Isn't that His Highness now?" Clarissa nodded toward the main door. Pamela followed her cousin's gaze. Alexei stood gazing over the crowd in a distinctly regal manner. Tall and handsome in his evening clothes, he looked every inch the prince he was. Her gaze met his across the ballroom floor, and he smiled. Even from here, he made her heart catch. Alexei nodded a greeting and started in her direction.

"I wonder how he fared," the count murmured.

"It's past time to find out." Pamela started toward him.

"Perhaps you should wait until he..." Clarissa's words trailed behind her. Pamela should indeed wait for him to approach her, it was the proper thing to do after all, but at the moment she didn't especially care. Nor did she especially care what had passed between Alexei and her father. At this particular moment, she simply wanted to be with him. Foolish, of course, but then what about the two of them had not been rather foolish?

She made her way around the ballroom, ignoring the dancers on the floor and stopping what seemed like every inch or two to speak with people she had not seen in years. All of whom seemed genuinely pleased to see her. Not one of whom seemed the least bit censuring. Certainly, she had not been in London society since her ruin, but London society had apparently proceeded quite nicely without her. She wondered if indeed people had forgotten about her mistake, or perhaps there had been so many varied and assorted scandals since hers, it was simply no longer of great interest.

It was odd being here again. She had changed, but much around her remained exactly as it had always been. The ballroom was awash with swags of brightly colored silk draped over every doorway and every window. Ribbons fluttered from sconces and columns. Huge flower-filled urns occupied various niches, flanked entries, and marked even those private alcoves that had long provided meeting places for lovers or those who would be lovers. The house was decorated in very much the same manner as it had been for her coming out and for that of each of her female cousins. The coming out of a female Effington was a grand affair that traditionally called for the use of the Effington House grand ballroom. This was, after all, the family's ancestral home in London. Aunt Katherine, the Duchess of Roxborough, took it as her responsibility, indeed her right, to have those milestone occasions in her house although, in truth, she simply delighted in the excuse to have a ball. Uncle Phillip, the duke, bore it bravely, if with considerably less enthusiasm than his wife, as his duty as the oldest brother and the bearer of the family title. It was a most familiar setting, yet never had it seemed so special, almost magical. Pamela met Alexei at what was very nearly the halfway point of the room. If this was indeed a farce, there was no better place to begin than the center of the stage.

Pamela favored him with her brightest smile. "Good evening, Your Highness."

"Miss Effington." Alexei took her hand and raised it to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers. "You are looking exceptionally lovely this evening."

She laughed. "And you are as charming as ever. Still, your words will quite turn my head."

"Nonetheless, you are a vision. A dream come to life." His gaze bored into hers. "A memory."

"A memory?" She held her breath.

"Of a moment caught in time."

She forced a carefree note. "Only a moment?"

"A moment at once unexpected and lingering forever." His voice was intimate and low and shivered through her. "Of light and magic and...passion."

"You do realize people are staring at us?" Not that she cared. Or indeed noticed that there was anyone at all save the two of them.

"In my experience, the English have always had a tendency to stare." A look of hunger showed in his eyes, and it was all she could do not to fling herself into his arms.

"Perhaps they are staring because you have held my hand entirely too long." Or perhaps they, too, canfeel what it is between us. That pulls us inexorably together. Can you not feel it, Alexei?

"Or perhaps it has not been long enough." He released her hand with a reluctant smile, and her heart ached with the loss of his touch.

She drew a steadying breath. "I understand you were speaking to my father."

"It was most enlightening." He chuckled.

"Oh?" Her brow rose. "I am not at all certain I wish you to be enlightened by my father."

"And why not?"

"You might learn all my secrets. Unravel my mysteries, and where will I be then?"

"Where do you wish to be?" His tone was light, belying the intensity in his dark eyes. With you. Always. "You are a dreadful flirt, Alexei."

"Not at all, Pamela." He grinned that wicked, well-practiced smile of his. "I am excellent at flirtation. Do not forget my reputation."

She laughed. "I thought you wished to put that behind you?"