Andrea Kane (25 page)

Rem started to rise. “Forgive me. This is obviously not the time to discuss business. I’ll come back after—”

“No.” Drake gestured for Rem to remain. “A diversion would be welcome, I assure you. Besides, I’ve been asked”—a corner of Drake’s mouth lifted—“actually, ordered to leave Alex’s room.”

“By a midwife?”

“No, by Alexandria herself. Evidently she feels I’m more hindrance than help.” Drake grinned. “My duchess is a tyrant, Gresham. The idea that I rule her is questionable at best. And, as if that notion alone weren’t humbling, she’s managed to pass her winsome brand of defiance on to my son. At two years of age, Gray is a little devil who upends the whole household, then flashes me one of Alex’s angelic smiles and I relent.” Drake shook his head, his expression baffled and tender all at once. “For a man who’s used to intimidating all he meets, it’s unnerving as hell.”

Rem was stunned by two distinct and simultaneous realizations: one, he completely understood the emotions Drake was describing, and two, the tightness constricting his chest was not disdain, but envy. “Unnerving as hell,” he murmured in agreement.

“Pardon me?”

Coughing discreetly, Rem forced himself back to coherence. “It’s difficult for me to envision Alexandria as a tyrant. From what I’ve seen, she’s a beautiful, charming woman.”

“True. She’s also an opinionated, outspoken hellion who has turned my life upside down since the day she burst into it three years past. And I wouldn’t trade a moment of our time together for all the riches in the world.” Selfconsciously, Drake rolled his empty glass between his palms, dispelling the conversation’s sentimental tenor. “In any case, it will do me good to concentrate on business for a while—which I assume is the reason you’re here. You certainly didn’t come all the way to Allonshire to hear me ramble on about my family.” Drake perched at the edge of his desk. “What’s on your mind?”

In truth, what was on Rem’s mind at that moment was Samantha’s description of her brother’s marriage. Love, she’d said. Well, perhaps she was right. Certainly Rem had never witnessed such tenderness from Drake Barrett, never even suspected he was capable of it.

“Do you intend to tell me why you wished to see me?” Drake prodded.

“Of course.” Sipping his brandy, Rem berated himself for his lack of concentration. This was not the time to lose control. “I’m considering making an investment. I wanted your opinion on it.”

“
My
opinion?” Drake’s brows rose. “Why?”

“Because it involves purchasing a ship. Or rather, commissioning one to be built.”

“You’re going back to sea?”

“Not in any official capacity, no. I’m looking for a merchant brig, not a warship.”

“I see.” Drake set down his glass. “What kind of vessel did you have in mind?”

“One large enough to transport extensive amounts of cargo, yet fast enough to reach her destinations more swiftly than all her competitors.”

“Is that all?” Drake looked vastly amused. “Just a five-hundred-ton runner laden with three decks of cargo that can traverse the seas in the blink of an eye.”

“Exactly.” Rem leaned forward. “And one other thing. She has to be immune to the disastrous fate so many English ships have suffered these past months.”

Instantly, Drake’s smile vanished. “Guarantees such as that I cannot offer.”

“How do we ensure that you can?”

“What the hell kind of question is that?”

“The kind of question I ask before I commit tens of thousands of pounds to an investment. The kind of question asked by a cautious man who wants some assurances.”

“I presume you’re considering Barrett Shipping for the construction of this superior vessel of yours?”

“You presume correctly.”

“Our record stands on its own.”

“Really?” Rem inclined his head. “Wasn’t yesterday’s loss your second in the same number of months?”

“It was.” A muscle worked in Drake’s jaw. “And if you’re implying that the losses were caused by poor workmanship or inferior materials, then I suggest you leave my home.”

“I’m not implying anything.” Rem finished his drink, unbothered by Drake’s show of temper. “I’m merely trying to protect my investment.”

“My company doesn’t require any defense, and I don’t require your business.” Drake came to his feet.

“If I thought you did, I wouldn’t be here.” Rem held out his empty glass. “Another brandy, if you will, Your Grace.”

Reluctant admiration flickered in Drake’s eyes. “You’re an insolent bastard, you know that, Gresham?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Chuckling, Drake took the glass and refilled it. “Very well. What do you want to know?”

“I won’t insult you by questioning your choice of workers. But I will ask what materials you use and what final steps you take to inspect your vessels prior to declaring them fit for sailing.”

“Fair enough. Our ships are painstakingly designed, then constructed under strict supervision and to precise specifications in our own yard. We use the finest wood and canvas money can buy, not to mention the highest quality iron for our guns. Our engineers, machinists, and carpenters are unsurpassed in their abilities and are instructed to spare no expense in building consistently superior vessels. No corners are cut, ever, not in design, construction, or inspection. Once the ships are completed, I have my men scrutinize every deck for ill-fitted planking, check every sail for slack rigging and poor stitching … right down to the smallest topgallant. I personally test each and every ship for seaworthiness. Is that procedure satisfactory enough to suit your needs?”

Rem raised his glass in tribute. “I’m impressed. Truly, I am. What you’ve just said will certainly influence my decision. I have a strong feeling I’ll be doing business with you.”

“That depends upon whether or not I choose to do business with you.”

“Touché.” Rem’s eyes twinkled. “Then I return the favor. Go ahead and interrogate me—I’ll answer any questions you have.”

“All right.” Drake lounged against his desk in a deceptively relaxed stance. “I hear you’re short of funds. How do you plan to pay for this ship?”

Rem grinned broadly. “I’m happy to see you’re thorough, Allonshire. It reassures me that my investment is in good hands. To answer your question, my business reverses were temporary. I’ve recouped all my losses. I can summon my banker here to verify my words, if you require proof.”

“No. Your word is satisfactory.” Drake’s eyes narrowed. “What are you really up to, Gresham?”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning this sudden urge to purchase a merchant ship. Meaning this business risk you’re plunging into so impulsively. It’s not at all like you. Your style has always been to scrupulously invest money while otherwise attending parties and bedding women. Why the change?”

Coolly, Rem shrugged. “Perhaps I’m bored. Or perhaps my instincts tell me this is a perfect way to scrupulously invest my money, as you put it. I know ships, Allonshire. Better than anyone else you do business with, I trust. Maybe it’s time to put that knowledge to use.” Rem arched a brow. “And you must admit, you and I would make an extraordinary team.”

“We would indeed.” Drake nodded. “I don’t admire many men, but I find myself developing a grudging respect for you. Perhaps we can work well together at that.” Broodingly, Drake stared into his glass. “Parrying aside, I think we should discuss the ongoing problem of the missing ships. The threat is very real, worsening, it seems, every day. I must admit I’m worried. Since I’m certain that, at least in the case of Barrett Shipping, carelessness is not a possibility, it makes me strongly suspect that terrorism is the true culprit here. That’s not a pretty thought, not only for the shipping industry, but for all of England.”

“I agree.”

“As I mentioned earlier, I’ve hired a team of men to look into the situation. If you and I decide that my company will be constructing your vessel, I’ll make certain to keep you apprised of what I learn.”

Although he’d never actually suspected Drake was involved in the sinkings, Rem found himself impressed by the depth of the man’s integrity. “I’d appreciate that. And now I’d like to officially commission Barrett Shipping to design and build my brig.”

For a moment Drake’s eyes delved into Rem, seemingly in search of something not readily perceived. Then he rose, extending his hand. “We have a deal, Gresham.”

Rem clasped Drake’s hand. “We’ll meet next week to discuss my specifications—
after
your child is born.”

“Yes.” Drake smiled faintly. “It’s an incredible feeling, having a child of your own. I still remember the first time I held Gray. It was as if a part of me had merged with a part of Alex and formed this extraordinary little being who looked up at me as if heaven itself should bow to my command. The surge of love, of protectiveness, was staggering. It still is. I’d give my life for my son … and for all his sisters and brothers yet to come.” Once again Drake glanced upward. “If only Alex didn’t have to suffer so … it twists a knife in my gut. God, how I wish I could take her pain.”

Rem felt that odd constriction in his chest. “You love Alexandria very much.”

“More than I ever believed possible.” Drake gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I wasn’t much of a believer in love until Alex exploded into my life. In fact, I wasn’t much of a believer in anything; didn’t give a damn for anyone. Except the sea. And Sammy.” Drake’s brow furrowed as a sudden thought struck him. “Speaking of which, I want to thank you, a bit belatedly, for the excellent care you took of my sister.”

Rem nearly leapt from his chair. “Pardon me?”

“Samantha.” Drake shot Rem a quizzical look. “Smitty told me you rescued the two of them from the storm their first night in London.”

“Oh … yes. ’Twas nothing. In fact, I’d nearly forgotten.”

“I’m sure you barely recognized Sammy; when you last saw her, she was a child.”

Warning bells sounded in Rem’s head. “True. She’s become an enchanting young lady.”

“Young is right. Too young to be let loose among the lechers of the
ton.
I sent her off to London under Smitty’s watchful eye so that she could indulge in her first Season. I feel guilty as hell for not accompanying her, but I couldn’t bear to leave Alex … not with the baby’s birth so imminent. Still, I’m bloody worried about Samantha. She’s too damned open and trusting, and sheltered—my fault, I suppose. But being seventeen years her senior, I’ve always protected her from the world’s ills … in many ways a father more than a brother.”

“I can understand that.”

Something of Rem’s tension must have conveyed itself to Drake. He inclined his head sharply, eyes narrowed on Rem’s face. “Have you had occasion to see Sammy since that night at the tavern?”

Careful,
Rem cautioned himself. “Your aunt Gertrude has been escorting Samantha to all the Season’s grand balls and soirees. They were in attendance at Almack’s, Carlton House, and at least several other parties that come readily to mind.”

“I see. So you noticed her at these gatherings?”

“I did.”

“Did you dance with her?”

Rem nodded. “She’s delightful.”

“Yes … delightful and innocent. Thoroughly innocent. Perfect prey for an immoral blackguard … wouldn’t you agree?”

“Definitely.”

“I’d kill any man who touched her. Surely you can’t blame me for that?”

“I don’t blame any man for doing what he must,” Rem replied, calmly meeting Drake’s gaze.

“I’m glad to hear that, Gresham. Very glad.”

“Your Grace?” Humphreys’s knock was loud and purposeful.

Drake reached the door in two strides and yanked it open. “Is it Alex?”

“Yes.” Soberly, Humphreys nodded. “The duchess asked me to give you a message. She would like to remind you that all women, no matter how young, dislike being kept waiting by the most important man in their life—especially once they’ve made an entrance.”

Already halfway down the hall, Drake came to a screeching halt. “What?”

A broad grin erupted on Humphreys’s face. “You have a daughter, Your Grace. Congratulations.”

“A daughter.” Drake’s throat worked convulsively. “Alex … is she … ?”

“The duchess herself spoke to me. She’s tired, but splendid. And a bit impatient.”

Running a shaking hand through his hair, Drake looked dazedly at Rem. “I’ve got to go to her. Gresham, I—”

Rem waved Drake off. “My best to all of you. Now go. Your family awaits. I can see myself out.”

“I’ll show Lord Gresham out,” Humphreys dutifully offered.

“Yes … fine …” Drake had reached the staircase and was taking the steps two at a time. “We’ll pursue our plans for your brig soon, Gresham,” he called, disappearing around the second floor landing.

Strangely pensive and out of sorts, Rem followed Humphreys to the front door, then strolled out into Allonshire’s expansive gardens. He felt he’d just been privy to an intensely personal and emotional moment in the life of a man who wasn’t given to sentimental displays. And Rem couldn’t deny that it had affected him … in a way he’d sworn never to be affected.

And what of Samantha?

Drake had vowed to kill any man who touched her, and Rem didn’t doubt that he would, nor blame him if he did. Everything the duke had just said about his beautiful, trusting sister was true, and Rem knew he should be plagued with guilt for what he intended.

Why wasn’t he?

Lord knew, he was many things, but never unprincipled. Even in serving his country, he was vehement in attempting to see that the innocent remained unharmed. Yet in this case he was knowingly taking a virgin to bed, forever altering her life, but still unable to walk away before her ruin was realized. Worse, unable to see their impending union as anything but inevitable. Why?

You know what’s happening to you, Rem.
Boyd’s pronouncement reverberated loudly in Rem’s head.
But if you need me to say the words, I’ll say them for you. You’re falling in love with Samantha Barrett.

A new kind of terror gripped Rem. Boyd was right.

“Hullo.”

The small voice seemed to come directly from Allonshire’s flower bed. Rem blinked and looked down.

A handsome tot, whose brilliantly green eyes and black hair identified him instantly as Drake’s son, grinned up at Rem.