My Heart's Desire

by Andrea Kane

  Alex stirred as Drake slid back into bed beside her.

  “Drake?” Her voice was sleepy, questioning.

  “I’m here, love.” He drew her against him, deriving an inordinate amount of comfort from the feel of her small, soft body against him. After the events of the last hour, she was his haven.

  Alex sensed Drake’s mood and rose up to look at him. “Where were you?”

  He looked into her silvery eyes and knew he would never lie to her again.

  “I had to see Sebastian.”

  Alex’s face whitened. “And did you?”

  “Yes.”

  His terse answer forewarned her of what was to come.

  “Drake … what did he say?”

  “He killed my father.” Drake’s expression never changed.

  Alex stared. “Oh, my God,” she breathed, at last. “He killed … How?”

  “Poison.”

  “But why?” Even as she asked the question, Drake saw that she’d guessed the answer. “The title … Allonshire …”

  Drake nodded. “With me presumably dead, only Father stood between Sebastian and his damned, wretched title.” He felt ill all over again.

  “Did he admit to the attempts on your life as well?” she demanded.

  “He didn’t have to. The hatred was there, in the way he looked at me. How could I have been so blind?” he asked, tormented. “There must have been something … some hint of his sickness.”

  “None of us saw it, Drake,” she whispered back. “Tell me what else he said.”

  Drake related the details of the confrontation, omitting the gruesome threat that Sebastian had made regarding Alex just before he disappeared. That would never come to pass. Not after tomorrow.

  “I called him out,” Drake told Alex softly, stroking her face.

  She gasped. “Oh, Drake, no … please, no.” Her eyes filled with tears at the thought of Sebastian killing her beloved husband.

  “Sweetheart, I must.”

  “There must be another way … any other way.” But she knew there was not. Drake’s honor and integrity were at stake. And she could not blame him for wanting to avenge his father’s death.

  Drake cupped her face gently between his big hands. “Just trust me, love. All will be well. I swear.”

  Alex nodded, pressing her face against his chest.

  Dawn was but a few hours away.

  Chapter 31

  “DRAKE, PLEASE … DON’T DO this.” Alex clutched his arm, tugging him to a stop in the sheltered cluster of trees that marked the most isolated section of Allonshire.

  With the first rays of dawn all reason had fled, and she was left with only the stark terror of losing Drake to his brother’s treachery. Now, standing at the edge of the clearing in which the duel would be fought, Alex was gripped by a bleak premonition that wrapped itself around her heart like a thick, suffocating blanket. She would do anything, resort to any measures, to persuade Drake to call off this insane duel.

  Drake looked down into Alex’s frightened face, and love swelled inside him, softening the cold fury that had dominated his senses since last night.

  “I must do this, sweetheart,” he told her gently, taking her hand from his arm and pressing it to his lips. “Why don’t you go back to the house and wait for me there?”

  Alex looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “I am going nowhere,” she informed him, raising her chin in the familiar defiant gesture that Drake had come to know. “If you insist on going through with this lunacy, I shall be here with you.” Her brave facade slipped as she gazed up at Drake’s strong features. “Think of our child,” she whispered. “We need you.”

  “And you shall have me.” He drew her against him, wrapping his arms around her and offering her his strength and his promise. “I swear to you, Alex, that our child will know his father.”

  She turned tear-filled trusting eyes up to him. “His father?” she asked in a trembling voice, striving for control.

  Drake smiled, kissed her forehead tenderly. “Or hers,” he murmured softly. “I shall be delighted to have a beautiful little tyrant who is just like her mother.”

  “How touching.” Sebastian’s cold voice washed over them like an icy spray. “Saying your good-byes, Alexandria?”

  Alex turned rigidly to face Sebastian’s mocking sneer.

  “You are beneath contempt,” she replied venomously, her expression filled with hatred.

  His eyes glittered unnaturally. “Careful, little lady,” he cautioned. “In but a few moments your fate will be in my hands. I would suggest you address me with the proper respect if you expect me to show you any mercy.”

  “I suggest you go straight to hell.” Alex lunged forward, fully intending to claw him to death with her nails. Only Drake’s restraining hand kept her from fulfilling her goal.

  Sebastian swaggered over, confidence oozing from every pore of his body. He stopped ten feet from where they stood. “It is your esteemed husband who is destined to die.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “But fear not. I am a generous man. I have every intention of taking excellent care of you … in every way.”

  “I would sooner be dead.” Alex spat out, seeing the rage blaze on his face at her words. But when Sebastian took a menacing step closer, Drake acted instantly, pulling Alex behind him, shielding her from Sebastian’s approach.

  “Take one step closer to my wife and I will kill you with my bare hands,” Drake warned him in a deadly tone.

  Sebastian hesitated, then shrugged carelessly. “Fine. The point is a moot one. Alexandria will soon be at my mercy.”

  Drake merely smiled, unaffected by his brother’s threats.

  Soft footsteps approached, and a moment later Smitty appeared, carrying a flat black case, which Alex knew contained the dueling pistols. She felt ill.

  Smitty threw a quick, scathing look in Sebastian’s direction, then turned toward Drake. Their eyes met, and a quick current of communication passed between them, ending as quickly as it had begun.

  “Do you have the weapons, Smitty?” Drake asked. A mere formality, since he knew what Smitty’s answer would be.

  “I do, your grace.”

  “Good. Who will be acting as your second, Sebastian?” Drake inquired stiffly.

  Sebastian gave a disdainful laugh. “Second? I need no second!”

  “Fine, then we can begin any time my brother …” Drake spat out the words contemptuously, “… is ready.”

  Sebastian gave an eerie laugh. “You should have thought more carefully before you chose pistols as our dueling weapons, Drake. You know what a superb marksman I am. I rarely miss my target.”

  Alex clutched Drake’s arm again, Sebastian’s words generating a fresh surge of fear in her heart. Silently she begged Drake to reconsider. But Drake seemed perfectly calm and unbothered by his brother’s boasting. The look he gave Alex was a reiteration of his earlier promise.

  “Trust me,” he whispered again.

  Alex nodded and stepped away from him, determined not to create a scene. She went to stand beside Smitty, who was now opening the heavy, velvet-lined case.

  Sebastian watched as the twin pistols were revealed.

  “I do see one problem, Drake.” He looked utterly triumphant, as though he had figured out some all-important secret.

  Drake stared back, his face expressionless. “Which is?”

  “Smithers here is unquestionably and eternally loyal to you.” He raised a dark brow in Smitty’s direction. “Since he is the one who loaded the pistols, how can I be assured that there are no … surprises in store for me? I would hate to fire my weapon only to find that it was without ammunition.”

  Drake and Smitty exchanged another glance, which did not go unnoticed by Sebastian. More certain than ever that he was correct, he waited with a victorious smirk.

  “The problem is easily solved,” Drake replied at last. With a quick movement of his head he gestured for Sebastian to approach the pistols. “You choose your weap
on first.”

  Sebastian assessed the situation and then, with a brief nod, walked over to the open box in Smitty’s hands. As he approached, Alex instinctively moved closer to Smitty. Sebastian’s very presence offended her.

  His cold gaze flicked briefly over Alex, but he did not address her. Instead, he studied the two pistols, realizing that his suspicions were unfounded. Drake would never risk his own life on a gamble. Obviously both pistols were loaded.

  He selected one of the gleaming weapons and turned back to Drake. “Your turn, brother:”

  Drake walked over and lifted the other weapon from its velvet bed. He glanced briefly at Alex’s pale face, then turned and walked back to where Sebastian stood.

  Alex listened to Smitty’s voice as he explained something about twenty paces being counted off. Her legs felt like water, and she wondered if they would, continue to support her throughout this ordeal. Gritting her teeth, she prayed.

  It all seemed like a dream—watching the brothers stand back to back, then hearing Smitty calling out numbers while the two men took one long stride for each shout.

  “Nine … ten …”

  Alex grabbed Smitty’s arm, afraid as she had never been in her life.

  “Please, Smitty, stop them,” she begged. “Please …”

  “Eleven …” He never paused in his counting, but gently pressed her hand against his arm in a comforting gesture.

  “Twelve … thirteen …”

  Alex was about to repeat her plea when, from the corner of her eye, she saw Sebastian whirl about and aim his pistol.

  “Drake!” She screamed his name, her piercing cry mingling with the sound of the pistol crack.

  “No!” Alex sobbed, realizing that her warning had come too late. “Oh, God, Drake!”

  Drake had stopped dead in his tracks as Sebastian prematurely fired at his back. Sebastian stood, a wildly triumphant madman, waiting for Drake to crumple and die.

  Instead, Drake turned slowly and stared at the spot where Sebastian’s bullet had fallen … far short of its mark. He raised glittering emerald eyes to his brother’s shocked face.

  “Surprised, Sebastian?” Drake took a step toward his brother, then another and another, raising his own weapon as he stalked the stunned man who stood before him, staring blankly at his own still-smoldering gun. “And I thought you were such an expert shot,” Drake taunted, stopping when he was close enough to see the fear on Sebastian’s face. “An expert on firearms in general, actually,” he added. “’Tis a pity that someone tampered with the gunpowder, is it not, Sebastian?” he continued, his voice growing hard, his pistol cocked and ready. “It becomes quite difficult to defend yourself when your ammunition is at only a fraction of its intended potency, does it not, Sebastian?” His eyes were blazing with rage and hatred, his voice hard and merciless as he continued his verbal assault on the cowering man before him. “Does it not, Sebastian?”

  Sebastian emitted a sound like a whimper.

  “Ah, I see you understand my point, you spineless coward.” Drake placed his finger lightly against the trigger, seeing all the color drain from Sebastian’s face. “You jeopardized twenty lives, you miserable bastard. Twenty men who are my friends. I should put one bullet in your head for each of them … and one more for putting your filthy hands on my wife. And then I should begin anew as punishment for our father’s murder.” He placed the barrel of the pistol between Sebastian’s eyes. “And I assure you, you worthless snake, that, despite the diminished strength of my gunpowder, I shall not miss at point-blank range.”

  Time froze in a deathlike silence as Drake toyed with his terrified brother by tightening the pressure of his finger on the trigger, bit by bit.

  Finally Sebastian sobbed out loud, “Kill me and be done with it! I cannot bear the torture any longer!”

  Drake lowered the gun to his side. “Torture? You haven’t begun to know the meaning of the word.” He watched Sebastian collapse at his feet in a shuddering heap. “Death is too good for you, Sebastian … and far too compassionate. I would much prefer to see you rot in Newgate for the rest of your wretched life, along with the other rats and vermin! That is the fate you deserve!”

  For the first time Drake turned toward where Alex stood, shaking violently, against Smitty. Wordlessly Drake extended his arm to her, and without hesitation, she went to him, pressing herself against his side … where she belonged and would always stay.

  “I believe we are entitled to this extended and long-awaited wedding trip,” Drake teased, drawing Alex toward the docks of London where their adventure together had begun.

  She laughed. “We have spent most of our marriage on one journey or another,” she reminded him.

  He stopped before the gleaming masts of a waiting ship. “No longer, princess,” he whispered, looking into her eyes. “I have found my journey’s end.” He kissed her softly on her mouth, tenderly cupping the gentle, swell of her stomach. “You and our child are my life,” he said simply. Without waiting for her response he turned, pointing to the shining hull of the exquisite vessel before them. “Behold your namesake, my love.”

  Alex felt a lump in her throat as she stared at the bold name, La Belle Alexandria, painted on the prow of the newly built ship.

  “She’s beautiful,” she managed in a choked voice. “Thank you, Drake.”

  He understood. “Come.” He led her onto the polished deck, then down to the magnificently crafted captain’s cabin below.

  “Let me see if I remember,” he told her soberly, closing the door and leaning back against it. “A cabin, not a castle, where you have been taken by a man—merely a man, but one who loves you with all his heart.” He walked toward her, drawing her into his strong, hungry embrace. “To live and love together with joy and meaning, as partners and equals … always.” Drake kissed away the tears of joy that trickled slowly down Alex’s cheeks. “I want to make all your dreams come true,” he whispered against her parted lips, melding their bodies together. “But, Alex,” he asked huskily, drawing her toward the bed, “in this one _ instance … would you mind very much being beneath me?”

  She didn’t answer. Not with words. Her body told him everything he needed to know.

  Alex was free.

  For, at last and forever, she had found her heart’s desire.

  Author’s Note

  THE OPENING OF THE Saint Lawrence Seaway in 1959 was the culmination of almost four hundred years of planning, building, and rebuilding. As early as the first half of the sixteenth century, Jacques Cartier, in search of the Northwest Passage, was thwarted by the unconquerable currents of the Lachine Rapids near Montreal. Efforts officially began in 1680 to construct a canal system that would enable ships to navigate readily along the Saint Lawrence River connecting Montreal to Lake Ontario and Little York (now Toronto). The “Casson Canal,” named after Francois Dollier de Casson, its creator, was a mere eighteen inches deep and less than a mile long at the time of Dollier de Casson’s death in 1701. It was, however, not until the mid-nineteenth Century that a continuous water route was available to vessels of under eight feet draught and not until later in the century that the canals were deepened, a process that was completed at the turn of the century and that unified all canals to a depth of fourteen feet.

  In truth, a merchant ship the size of La Belle Illusion would have had a draught of approximately twelve feet and would therefore have been unable to pass through the narrow, shallow canals that led from Montreal to Lake Ontario. But in order to tell Drake and Alex’s story the way they demanded it be told—as you know, they are both impossibly strong-willed and unyielding—I took the liberty of allowing La Belle its passage into Lake Ontario and on to Little York.

  Little York was much as I depicted it within these pages. I did take the following historical liberties. Fort York did exist in a far more basic form—a gun platform and a collection of log huts—in 1812. It was known as “the garrison on the lakefront” until 1816, when it was developed into Fort York.
That name being rather cumbersome, I used “Fort York” four years prematurely. Also, the real governor’s home, called the Government House, stood right beside the garrison in 1800 until it was destroyed by the Americans in 1813. Like most homes in York at the time, it was a simple one-story frame house, not a grand mansion like the one occupied by the fictitious Geoffrey Cassel.

  Alex, Drake, and I thank you for your indulgence.

  I also thank the Saint Lawrence Seaway Development Corporation for providing me with historical details on the Saint Lawrence River.

  A Biography of Andrea Kane

  Andrea Kane is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty-five novels—including fourteen historical and twelve contemporary novels—that have been published in sixteen countries and translated into more than twenty languages. Whether she’s writing about Regency England, America on the brink of civil war, or New York Police Department detectives caught up in mayhem and murder, Kane’s ability to create unforgettable stories has earned her a loyal worldwide following.

  Kane published My Heart’s Desire, her first historical novel and the first book in the Barrett Family series, in 1991. Others quickly followed, including Samantha, the second book in that series; Echoes in the Mist and Whispers in the Wind (the Kingsley in Love series); and the acclaimed Black Diamond, Thornton-Bromleigh Family, and Colby Coin series. Stand-alone historic romances include Dream Castle (1992), Masque of Betrayal (1993), Emerald Garden (1996), and The Music Box (1998).

  Kane’s groundbreaking romantic thriller Run for Your Life (2000) became an instant New York Times bestseller. This was followed by a series of suspense novels featuring NYPD detective-turned-private investigator Pete “Monty” Montgomery. Kane’s current contemporary series introduced FBI special agents Sloane Burbank and Derek Parker. Other thrillers include No Way Out, Scent of Danger, Twisted, I’ll Be Watching You, The Girl Who Disappeared Twice, and, most recently, The Line Between Here and Gone.

  Kane is a self-proclaimed “cerebral” type, and prides herself on her questioning, analytical mind, which has led to her passion for mysteries. She has spent many happy hours with the classic novels of Agatha Christie, trying to outsmart Hercule Poirot.