His body craved the comfort both provided, a way to forget his dark past and the demons haunting his nights. Over the past few years, in an attempt to break his opiate habit, he’d used his looks, charm, and fortune to bed countless women, to sink and lose himself between soft thighs, to feed off their warmth, until the chill in his heart melted, if by only a fraction. He was a master of managing, seducing, enjoying, and ultimately disengaging from the well-born matrons with whom he habitually dallied.
He should not be craving the woman standing looking so vulnerable and beautiful before him. What was wrong with him?
Still, he hated to see her like this. Her hands trembled in his and he wished he could pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be fine, but he had no idea what trouble she was in.
They stood staring at each other until Aunt Eliza gave a quiet cough and said, “Come, you two, sit. Hestia, could you ring for tea, please, and I’m sure His Grace can see to pouring himself a brandy from the sideboard.”
Alex reluctantly let go of her hands so she could make for the bell to order tea. To his surprise, like a parched man at a fresh spring, his eyes followed her every sway, every step, drunk with her beauty. He let her ethereal spirit calm his soul.
Hestia might look waiflike, but he had witnessed her strength and courage. He’d seen her at her most vulnerable and watched her defy her rapist.
Her beauty drew many an eye, the long golden tresses, the sea-blue sparkle of her eyes, the lusciousness of her lips and her body. She was built for a man’s interest, all curves and full body. Yet it was the warm heart and goodness that attracted him more while proving she was not for him.
He had a blackened soul.
Once seated with drink in hand, he waited for Hestia to speak. He had spent a fair amount of time in this room over the years, yet nothing in this room had changed. He’d not stepped into the earl’s house since the fateful night Hestia’s father had made him promise to discourage her in every way. Alex had been surprised that the earl would think he would encourage a young woman like that. It did not take anything to agree to his vow.
He would never offer for Hestia.
Fine with him. He was never going to offer for any woman. He had nothing but disappointment to give them.
He looked between the two women. “What is this all about, Hestia?” he asked. “You are both in mourning and it’s starting to worry me.”
To his horror, Aunt Eliza’s eyes welled with tears and a dainty white handkerchief appeared. He sat forward in his chair and looked at Hestia expectantly.
“My father has been declared dead.”
He almost dropped his glass. “Why have I not heard? I saw no announcement in the paper.” The earl had saved his life by helping to free him from Murad’s clutches. He respected the man for some things, but not for leaving Hestia to be brought up alone.
He asked, “How, why, where?”
Hestia stopped him by saying, “He’s not dead. I said he has been declared dead.”
“Don’t be disingenuous, dear. Tell His Grace the story properly. Start at the beginning.”
He nodded in Lady Eliza’s direction, somewhat puzzled at her acceptance of him being in this house since she had usually given him a cool reception. Alex was sure she knew of the earl’s dictate, maybe even some of his sordid past. Lady Eliza had been Hestia’s chaperon since her mother died when Hestia was eight. Why was she now so insistent in allowing this discourse?
“Have you heard of our distant relative Fredrick Cary?”
He gave a puzzled nod. “Yes, he is your father’s second cousin.” He was not about to inform them that he knew the man well. Fredrick had been known to frequent the same soirees as Alex: opium parties at particular houses in London’s East End.
“He is Father’s heir. My father is an only child, and he has only me. So his second cousin Fredrick will inherit the title and the estate.”
The thought astounded Alex, as he did not consider Fredrick a good man. It seemed doubly ironic that the earl had forbade Hestia a match with him, when an even bigger despot would be his heir.
“But you just said your father is not dead.”
She blinked back tears and her aunt sighed. “I believe Fredrick is sick of waiting for my brother’s estate. Did you know Fredrick claims to have been to the Mediterranean recently?”
“His ship goes there regularly, to trade,” he confirmed. Fredrick was one of the biggest suppliers of Turkish opium to England. He wasn’t about to admit how he knew that piece of information. It was not often that Fredrick sailed with the ship. He preferred to pay a crew.
“Well, he has just returned from a trip and claims to have brought back my father’s body.”
He shook his head. “Claims?” How did one claim to have a body? Then a thought struck him. Surely she didn’t mean…
“Yes, the body is so badly decomposed it could be anyone.” Her soft words pierced his heart.
Her aunt stiffened, looking every bit the imperious daughter of an earl. “It is not my brother. There is no ring and no locket. He would never have been parted from either.”
He hated to point out that if the earl were a victim of pirates, the jewelry would have been the first things taken, then his life. He rubbed his hand over his face.
“Did Fredrick say how he’d died?”
“A fever.”
“Then he should still have his ring and locket, unless Fredrick has it.”
Hestia shook her head. “I asked about the locket, and he did not know where it was. And surely Fredrick would be wearing the family crest signet ring as his heir, and he is not. The body was not my father.”
“Am I to believe you think Fredrick has brought a body home, a body that is, in fact, not your father, in the hope of having the title and estate settled upon him?”
“Exactly!” Hestia cried. “I knew you’d understand.”
“Only one problem with that. What happens when the earl does return home?”
He watched the two women look at each other as if they had rehearsed an answer.
Hestia cleared her throat. “I don’t think Fredrick is going to allow my father to return. I suspect he has men hunting for my father right now.” She raised an eyebrow. “I know what you are thinking, but the men sailing with my father would have sent me a letter to tell me of his demise. I do not believe the body Fredrick produced is my father.”
“Did you tell Fredrick of your doubts?”
She scoffed. “I am not stupid. I don’t want him to think we are suspicious. That is why we are dressed in our mourning clothes. I don’t want him suddenly thinking he has to rush to find my father. The longer he thinks we believe his lies, the safer my father will be.”
Suddenly the reason for his summons was clear. “You want me to find your father first and bring him safely home.”
“I know it’s a lot to ask of you given you are now the Duke of Bedford and have so many other responsibilities, but Aunt Eliza believes you are the only man who knows the Greek islands well enough to find my father. I’m so scared Fredrick will kill him, and while I am not close to my father, he does not deserve to be murdered for his estate.”
Alex looked directly at Hestia’s aunt, Lady Eliza. The knowing expression on her face made it clear she understood why he could not refuse. Lord Pembroke had been instrumental in saving his life when he was a young, naïve fool. Alex had thought rescuing his lordship’s daughter in return might have evened the score, but not according to her aunt.
Lady Eliza drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. “I was given to understand you have a ship berthed at Great Yarmouth, always on standby should you need it.”
He eyed her coolly. She was thorough in her investigations. He did keep a ship fully stocked and manned just in case he could slip away for a month, maybe two. It had been idle for well over a year. His time was no longer his own since his father’s death two years ago, hence why he lived for the tales told with his friends of the explorers
club.
“As a matter of fact I’m due to set sail at the end of the season.” He had decided to go to Tunisia and go south into the desert.
“Perhaps there could be a reason to go earlier?” Lady Eliza encouraged.
“I’m off to meet with friends after this. Panton’s back from North Africa. I could perhaps let it be known his talk made me long for an adventure, and I decided to leave the season early.” Men would understand his need to leave. Every mother and her debutante daughter hunted a bachelor staying in London during the season. Plus they would hear of the end of Dianne’s affair.
Lady Eliza sat back satisfied.
Alex asked the obvious questions. “Do you know your father’s last known location?” There was no point racing off if he had no idea where Lord Pembroke was. The Mediterranean was a watery maze of islands. It could take months to find him. He hoped they had more information than Fredrick Cary did.
“You’ll help us?” Hestia clapped her hands. “Oh, thank goodness. I did not know what I would do should you not come to our rescue.”
Alex knew. She’d try to find someone else to help her and they would likely take her money and produce nothing.
Lady Eliza spoke. “The last letter we received indicated he was excavating on an island called Kos.”
Hestia visibly exhaled. “His base was Delos, one of the most important mythological, historical, and archaeological sites in Greece. It’s only a few miles from the isle of Mykonos. But no one has heard from him since he left for Kos. I don’t even know if he arrived there safely.”
They both looked at each other, tension filling the air. The mention of Mykonos brought back all the memories of her ordeal at the hands of Murad. Her rescue had started her hero worship of him. A familiar longing gripped his innards. The trip back to England had been the most wonderful few months of his life. Her innocence and joy of life had brightened his dark countenance, making him forget his deadly past, making him hope he could be redeemed.
Then reality hit: Kos. Of course her father would have to be on one of only a few Ottoman-controlled islands, one near the Turkish coast and the fortress city of Bodrum.
Nerves drew taut and his hand almost crushed the glass in his hand. At last he’d have a chance to get his revenge against Murad.
“Do you know it?” Hestia asked.
“Yes.” He knew that area very well. He sat back in his chair and took a large gulp of his brandy.
A frown crossed Hestia’s pretty features. “You will help us?” She looked stricken. “I know it’s such an imposition, but Father thinks of you as a son.”
He heard Lady Eliza clear her throat. “I’m sure His Grace knows exactly what your father thinks of him. He will do what he knows is right.” She raised an imperious eyebrow.
“Of course I will help.” They didn’t need to know that the idea of avenging his captivity was the main reason he would agree to go. He’d never have another chance, what with his duty to his title. He’d also wanted to wait until his younger brother Harris turned one and twenty. Alex would be about six months short of this target, and he could live with that. Harris was almost one and twenty and old enough to handle becoming the Duke of Bedford should Alex die in his attempt for vengeance.
The look her ladyship sent his way had the effect she wanted. Guilt rose swiftly to eat at him. He did owe his life to his lordship.
The main reason adrenaline surged was Murad. Alex longed for revenge. He thought about what traveling into Murad’s territory would mean. He would finally get the chance to kill the man who’d cost him so much. But surely one of Murad’s rivals would have killed him and taken over by now.
His mind folded in on him and black visions seared his mind. He almost hoped Murad was still alive. Perhaps if he could take his revenge and kill him, he could put his past behind him instead of letting it continually torture him. Certainly he suspected his opiate use would have been conquered.
“I’ll have to have a good reason for leaving London that does not raise eyebrows. If Fredrick learns I’ve left England, he’ll likely know you suspect him. It will be difficult to hide the fact that my ship, the Angelica, has left port.”
“It does sail without you occasionally?”
He could not deny Hestia’s words. The Angelica sailed to France on occasion for trade. His estate’s wool would be traded for French silks and brandy to resell in England. “However, if I leave London as well…don’t underestimate Fredrick. He is clever and devious.”
“Then we shall have to be more devious.” She smiled. “For instance, the ship could leave while you are still in London. Then you could leave London to go back to your estate, but head south to Portsmouth and embark from there.”
“It might work. What reason did you give for coming to London when you are in mourning?” If Fredrick knew they had come to see him…
Lady Eliza said, “I told him I had to see the family lawyer about Hestia’s and my settlements and to employ a man to look for a property for us to buy.” She shrugged. “I also told him I wished to put a notice in the paper regarding my brother’s death and his burial at our Pembrokeshire estate in Wales.”
Hestia’s face looked as if she’d like to kill someone. “He had the cheek to say we could take our time finding another residence in which to live.” Alex watched a shudder run through her. “Fredrick even suggested that I should marry him so I would not lose my home.”
“So he could keep your dowry, more like. I think Fredrick was shocked to learn he gets the estate but not the money. The money came from Hestia’s mother’s dowry on the condition that if Lord Pembroke died before Hestia marries she inherits whatever money is left.”
Alex sat up straight in his chair. “You get all the money?”
Hestia frowned. “Yes, well, there is not much except for my dowry. My father’s love of exploring takes a large amount, but he does make some money back by selling the treasures he finds. However, he keeps so many of his statues as he hates being parted from them.” Her mouth grew taut. “I loved seeing Fredrick squirm when he learned the details of the entail and the financial aspects of the estate.”
A cold fear rippled in Alex’s gut. “Did Fredrick propose before or after he learned this little tidbit?”
“After,” Lady Eliza breathed out in a rush.
All of Alex’s senses roared to life. “What happens to the money if you die before you marry?”
“It goes to the estate—oh no.” Lady Eliza turned scared eyes his way. “You have to take her with you.”
Chapter 2
It took a minute for Hestia to catch up with the conversation. She saw the fear on her aunt’s face and went cold inside. “If I die before I marry he gets everything.”
“Or he marries you. Either way he’d get hold of your fortune. Marriage would raise fewer questions than father and daughter dying suddenly and close together.”
Alex’s quietly spoken facts unnerved her. “I don’t know what would be the worse fate. Yes I do, marriage to him would be a slow death. I’d never marry him.”
“He’s the type of man that would not give you a choice. He’d coerce you under pain of death, or worse simply hold you captive, marry you, and after a suitable period of time kill you.”
“I cannot guarantee her safety if she stays here. Who would protect us from Fredrick?” Lady Eliza had a good point. “No one is likely to believe our story.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just as dangerous taking you with me. No. We have to find another way to protect you.”
His words were true.
Hestia knew how lawless the Mediterranean could be. She still had nightmares about the time she was captured by Turkish pirates when she was younger. If Alex hadn’t come for her…A shudder wracked her frame.
She did not really want to go back to the Mediterranean. But with Fredrick desperate to ensure her father, or anyone who knew what he had done, did not return to England, she would be putting herself in danger again if s
he stayed.
Coldness came calling even though the fire was roaring in the grate.
“Is there another way? I assure you I’m keen to find one.”
Her aunt merely shrugged. Alex chewed his bottom lip obviously trying to think of a solution. He stood and began pacing. He stopped and seemed about to speak, but then shook his head. He resumed pacing.
“I could simply go into hiding,” she suggested.
He spun to face her. “Where and with whom? Unless we have a valid reason you’ll be ruined. All sorts of scandal will swirl around you.”
“Can’t we clear that up once Father returns?”
“What if he does not return?” he said bluntly. “No one will believe your story.”
Her aunt began to quietly sob. “Your reputation is already tarnished by your capture. The scandal has finally begun to settle down, and you have been receiving honorable proposals of marriage from fine men. Another scandal would put paid to all your hard work.”
Alex stopped pacing and took his seat. “There is our answer. You must marry.”
In one moment Hestia’s world went from trouble to exquisite joy. But it only took one look to realize he was not proposing himself as the groom.
“No.”
Her aunt turned appealing eyes her way. “Lord Barratt offered the day before Fredrick’s news of your father’s death. I’m sure he could be persuaded of the need for a special license.”
“No.” This time she said it more firmly.
“Lord Barratt is an honorable man, a bit short of coin, but he doesn’t have any vices I’m aware of.”
“Then you marry the man,” she said, and shivered with revulsion. He was polite, staid, almost as old as her father, and had the terrible habit of chewing his fingernails to the quick.
Accompanying Alex on the journey was looking a far better solution than a lifetime of revulsion.
Plus there was one upside. The thought of spending so much time in close proximity to Alex thrilled her and pushed her fear aside. He would be there to protect her, and this time she would not do anything foolish, like wandering off to swim privately in a deserted white-sand cove.
Addicted to the Duke Page 3