When We Meet Again by Victoria Alexander Page A

stood by a sideboard along the wall behind Miss Effington and at once uncorked a bottle and poured two glasses. Alexei was certain Miss Effington had had no idea the servant was in the room, yet she did not show so much as a twinge of surprise. How very interesting. The thought flickered through his mind that she would have made an excellent queen.
    Graham brought her a glass. She eyed it with a touch of skepticism. "I do hope the wine cellar is better maintained than the rest of the house."
    "The wine cellar is exceptional, miss." Graham's tone carried a hint of indignation that she would suspect otherwise. "We have found through the years that a superb selection of wine and other spirits is essential toward attracting a respectable tenant for the season. As is the outer appearance of the house and gardens. Therefore, maintenance in those areas has always been of paramount importance."
    "And the interiors simply let go?" Her manner was casual, as if her question was of no significance whatsoever, and accepted the glass.
    "Not at all, miss, " Graham said coolly. "Necessary repairs are made continuously. However, it's been rather a long time since Lady Gorham paid any particular attention to this house at all. Indeed, we thought she had forgotten our existence altogether. In recent years, the income from the yearly rental is all that has sustained us. You should know as well that after wages were paid, the remaining proceeds went into maintenance." He lifted his chin and stared down a rather long nose. "No one has profited in any way, Miss Effington. The books for the house are entirely in order."
    "Do accept my apology, Graham, if I have offended you." Miss Effington shook her head. "That was certainly not my intention."
    "Of course not, " Alexei said smoothly, and took the remaining glass from the butler. "It is to be expected that one would have a certain number of questions when the reality of a situation is not entirely as one expected."
    "That's it exactly." She nodded. "I simply had no idea that the house was so... so..."
    "Warm and welcoming, " Alexei said firmly. "With a delightful sense of having been loved and well cared for." He nodded at the servant. "That will be all for the moment, Graham."
    "Of course, Your Highness." Graham paused. "And might I extend my congratulations upon the occasion of your betrothal."
    "Thank you, Graham." Alexei smiled pleasantly.
    The butler nodded curtly and took his leave. That was that then. Once a servant, any servant, was in possession of information such as this, it was certain to become common knowledge. Although it scarcely mattered he supposed. Alexei had agreed to Lady Smythe-Windom's scheme after all. He simply had not expected it to begin immediately.
    Still, there were far worse fates than the pretense of affection toward a lovely woman.
    "Expectations aside, how does it feel to be home at last, Miss Effington?"
    "I have missed London more than I ever anticipated and missed my family, too, of course." She sipped her wine thoughtfully. "However, this house is scarcely my home. Yet. In fact, I don't think I've stepped foot in the place before now."
    "Not at all?" he said curiously. "I was given to understand you had inherited it from a relative?"
    "Oh, I did, along with my aunt and my cousin." Miss Effington idly stepped away, wandering around the large parlor with a critical eye. "It was willed to us by my great-aunt, who did not approve of the way Aunt Millicent has lived her life."
    "Yet she left you this house?"
    "And her fortune as well. All in hopes that it would encourage better behavior on the part of my aunt, thus saving my cousin and myself from a life she viewed as inappropriate. Inappropriate being in the eye of the beholder. To my own mind, Lady Smythe-Windom's life has always been exceptionally appropriate."
    "Again in the eye of the beholder."
    "Exactly." Miss Effington smiled in a wry manner.
    "Aunt Millicent did indeed live what anyone would view as an