When We Meet Again by Victoria Alexander Page B

eminently proper life until she became a widow, at which point she discovered an aversion to permanence and a penchant for doing precisely as she pleased. Of course, she had the funds to do so then. She abandoned London for the adventure of travel and has only returned a time or two since. Most recently six years ago. That was when my cousin and I decided to join her."
    "Ah yes, " He sipped his champagne casually. "After the scandal." She cast him a sharp glance. "Indeed."
    "I think, as your fiancé, I should know something about that particular incident. " He signed in feigned regret. "In the interest of avoiding misunderstandings between us in the future if for no other reason."
    "Your Highness, there shall be no misunderstandings because there is no future. No real future, that is. Beyond that"—she squared her shoulders and met his gaze—"I should very much prefer that we agree that in regards to our private lives you shall not discuss my past, and I shall not discuss yours."
    "I rather like discussing my past, in regards to my private life, that is."
    She frowned. "You do?"
    "Indeed I do. Of course, it is different for a man I suppose. A reputation for bedding—what was it? Ah yes, half the women in Europe. Such a reputation is rather a badge of honor, you know, among men." She snorted. "It's nothing of the sort. I think it's in extremely bad taste to sample indiscriminately the charms of one woman after another."
    "But then you are not a man. " He allowed his gaze to slide over her. "To my everlasting gratitude." She ignored his comment and studied him curiously. "You are proud of your reputation then?"
    "Proud is not entirely the right word; however, I do take umbrage at your use of the word indiscriminately. I was always most selective."
    "My apologies."
    "Accepted. " He brushed aside the less-than-sincere note in her voice. "I do not make excuses for my past, Miss Effington, as I have nothing to be ashamed of. If I have lived my life with a certain recklessness, a particular abandon, enthusiasm as it were, it was because I knew there would soon come a time when it would no longer be mine to do with as I chose. The life of any monarch belongs to his people. As mine would belong to my people when I ascended the throne. Until that point, however, I intended to have a very good time. " He smiled wickedly. "And I did."
    "I have no doubt of that."
    "Nor should you. However you should also keep in mind that when one is in line to inherit a throne and rule a country, one's every move, every act, every comment, becomes a topic of discussion and fodder for gossip. I will concede to you, and you alone, Miss Effington, and it pains me to do so, that my reputation is exaggerated—"
    She scoffed.
    "Although not greatly. " He grinned then continued. "However, there are certain expectations—"
    "To bed half the women in Europe?"
    "No. That is simply a pleasant benefit. There is the expectation that because you are destined to rule, in every way, you shall be larger than life allows. You cannot behave like other men, nor are you bound by the limits of other men, because you are not like other men. Your intelligence, your ability to command loyalty, your courage, even your appetites are expected to be greater than ordinary men."
    "Disregarding the question of appetites, there have been any number of kings, even here in England, who have scarcely met such standards."
    "Regardless of royal blood, men are still flesh and bone and subject to the failings that are inherent in all of mankind. But the kings who are successful in their rule, whose countries are prosperous and whose people are happy, are those who do indeed try to live up to those higher expectations. " He drew his brows together and considered his words. "It is not always possible, indeed, it is a continuous challenge, but it is the responsibility of power and privilege."
    She studied him for a long moment. Her voice was cool, but there was a spark of amusement in her