Andrea Kane (12 page)

Her reaction nearly drove him over the edge. Beneath the blankets his body throbbed painfully, and he knew that he couldn’t wait much longer. It was a need like none he had ever known, defying description or reason. He slid his hands to her sides, then over her hips and down, defining the curves of her body with his fingertips. She whimpered, and he caught the sound with his mouth, savoring the taste of her as he urged her soft thighs apart.

“Alex, open to me,” he gasped into her mouth. “Please, sweetheart, let me touch you.”

Alex was dazed, drugged, submerged in her rampant newfound desire. Warring emotions tore at her mind and her heart—what she
should
do, what she
wanted
to do. … She tore her mouth from Drake’s, panting, gazing down into his eyes. This was wrong, so wrong, but she wasn’t sure she had the strength to deny him … to deny them.

Drake watched Alex’s inward struggle, so clear to him despite his mind’s fuzziness. She seemed terrified by her passion for him. But why? Had one of her previous lovers hurt her? Drake forced himself to stifle his own rampaging need, soberly watching her face.

“Alex?” he whispered, still caressing her exquisite body.

She closed her eyes tightly, her lips trembling with suppressed emotion.

A wave of tenderness swept over him. “Oh, Alex,” he murmured. “Could you really be as innocent as you seem?”

Her eyes flew open, and he saw his answer. “My God,” he breathed, relieved and thrilled in a way that unnerved him more than his passion did. Gently he smoothed the shirt down over her legs. “All right, princess,” he soothed her, seeing the apology on her face. “It’s all right.” For a long moment he continued to stare up at her, his expression unreadable. His thoughts and emotions converged into a pleasant haze as the laudanum finally won its battle over him. With a bit of surprise he became aware of the dull throbbing in his head, a pain that only moments ago he hadn’t even noticed.

Alex started to ease herself away from him, but Drake caught her wrists in his hands and frowned.

“Stay with me.” It was a tender command.

“But you need to rest,” she protested, her emotions still raw.

“And I will. But I want you with me. Please, princess. I promise not to touch you … at least not
that
way.” He grinned, stifling a yawn. “Besides, I fear that I am not … at my best.” His eyelids drooped. “So you’re safe,” he slurred, leaning back against the pillow.

Alex watched his handsome, chiseled features relax in sleep. His hands still held her wrists, but the grip was loose now, and she could easily withdraw if she wanted to.
If
she wanted to.

She paused for but a second. Then she cautiously lay down beside him, covering herself with the top blanket, careful to keep the other layers of bedcovers between their bodies. Her head was spinning from what had turned out to be the most turbulent day of her life.

The last thing Alex was aware of, before drifting off to sleep, was Drake’s strong arm drawing her close to him and pressing her head to his chest. And then … blissful oblivion.

Smitty paused for a moment outside the captain’s cabin. He could hear no sounds from within, and it occurred to him that the two occupants might be asleep. He hesitated, uncomfortable with the idea of disturbing them. On the one hand, Lady Alexandria needed her privacy, and Captain Barrett badly needed his rest. On the other hand, the captain’s injury needed to be treated.

In the end concern won out over discretion. Quietly he let himself into the semidark cabin and closed the door behind him. He was totally unprepared for the sight that met his eyes.

Together in the narrow bed, wrapped around each other and peacefully asleep, were Captain Barrett and Lady Alexandria.

Smitty had no time to react, no time to reverse his decision and make a hasty departure. At the sound of the door, Alex’-s eyes flew open and she found herself staring into his stunned face.

At first she had no idea why Smitty was gaping at her in such a peculiar manner or what he was doing in her cabin, for that matter. Then she became aware of the heavy weight of Drake’s arms around her, and the memories of the previous night came back in a rushing flood.

“Oh!” With a mortified gasp Alex snapped to a sitting position.

The sudden jolt startled Drake, and he stirred, blinking sleepily and looking around him. His head throbbed, and he wondered fleetingly if he had drunk too much brandy the night before. Then he dazedly focused on the disheveled beauty beside him and the highly embarrassed first mate in the doorway. And he, too, remembered.

He was still disoriented when Alex stepped from the bed, allowing the oversize shirt to billow out around her, and faced a speechless Smitty with as much dignity as she could muster.

“Smitty, could you check the hallway for me and make certain that it is deserted?” Her voice was high and shaky, but she kept her chin up and her gaze steady.

Smitty was thrilled to have a task that would divert his attention from the awkward situation.

“Of course, my lady.” He inched the door open a crack, peeping out into the hallway. “It is clear,” he confirmed. “The men are all working their morning shifts.”

“Thank you, Smitty.”

Without meeting Drake’s concerned gaze, Alex yanked the top blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her. Fighting the urge to break down and sob with utter shame, she gathered her discarded breeches and shirt, walked past Smitty, and left the cabin.

“Alexandria … damn!” Drake’s abrupt movement from the bed caused a blinding flash of pain to explode in his skull. He staggered about, feeling a wave of sickness rise up in his throat. Clutching his head, he sank back down, muttering one oath after the next.

Smitty helped Drake resume his position beneath the bedcovers. “Another movement like that and you will reopen your wound,” he cautioned him.

Through a haze of pain Drake glanced up at Smitty’s impassive expression. He was not fooled. Smitty was furious; his icy tone told Drake so. And his anger had little to do with the injury.

“Nothing happened, Smitty,” he heard himself say, with a wave of self-disgust. Why the hell was he explaining himself? What difference did it make what anyone thought? It never had before … but with Alex it was different.

Smitty gave him a cool, assessing look. “Apparently
something
happened, Captain. That child was visibly upset for
some
reason.”

“Damn it, Smitty, stop calling her a child! She’s a grown woman, for God’s sake!”

“So it would seem.”

Drake groaned at the censure in Smitty’s voice. “I was in pain. She got me some water and more laudanum. I asked her to sit with me. We must have fallen asleep. Obviously she was embarrassed by your appearance in the cabin.” He intentionally omitted the rest of the evening’s happenings. Smitty did not look convinced, but the older man said nothing further on the subject.

“You should eat something, Captain,” he suggested instead. “Food will help you regain your strength.”

Drake watched as Smitty made to leave. “Where are you going?”

Smitty turned. “To have a breakfast tray sent to your cabin.” Without hesitation he added, “And to check on Lady Alexandria. I want to see for myself that she is all right.”

Drake was suddenly and inexplicably furious. “I told you nothing happened!” he snapped, tossing the bedcovers off his naked body. “Would it satisfy you to check the sheets for proof of that
child’s
continued virginal state?”

Smitty was unmoved by the emerald fire blazing in Drake’s eyes. “There are ways, other than physical ones, for one person to hurt or heal another. Perhaps it is time you remembered that, my lord.” He, gave Drake a measured look and was gone.

Drake leaned back and sighed. He didn’t want to think about the meaning of Smitty’s words or dwell on the intentional use of his title. The sort of healing Smitty referred to was impossible for Drake to contemplate. Too many years had passed, too much had happened to reinforce his cynicism and lack of faith.

He could see Alexandria in his mind’s eye. Despite the dulling effects of the laudanum, the memory was clear— the feel of her skin beneath his hands, the taste of her mouth on his … but strangely, what he remembered most was the look of pain in her confused eyes. The pain … and the innocence.

There was no point in denying it any longer: Geoffrey Cassel’s beautiful, headstrong daughter was a virgin.

That knowledge cast a whole new light on the situation, Drake mused. He might be a bastard, but even bastards had some honor. Lust or not, he would deliver Alexandria to her father intact. And that was that. Or was it?

It would be weeks before
La Belle Illusion
reached York. Weeks before he could safely hand Alexandria over to her father and never see her again. Weeks during which he would want her, during which he would deny himself what he wanted.

Mastering his driving urge for her would be difficult. Difficult, but surmountable. What truly unnerved him was the emptiness that stirred inside him at the thought of saying good-bye.

He had no choice. His only alternative was to keep his distance from her. That was the only way to survive.

In Allonshire’s impressive library Sebastian Barrett read the unsettling headlines in the
Times.

There was talk of another war with the colonies, this time involving Canada. Of course it was all speculation.

He folded the newspaper and glanced nonchalantly at the date atop page one: April 24, 1812. He tossed the newspaper onto the desk, folded his arms behind his head, and leaned back in the carved walnut chair.

Between the war with Napoleon and the threat of war with America, travel between England and the continents of Europe and North America would be terribly risky. There was no telling what disastrous fate might befall a merchant ship traversing the Atlantic Ocean.

A slow smile spread across Sebastian’s lean features.

Fate was a funny thing. Sometimes it just needed a little assistance.

“S
MITTY! THERE’S LAND AHEAD
of us!” Alex fairly flew onto the quarterdeck, breathless with newly awakened excitement.

He chuckled. “Yes, my lady, Canada looms in the distance. Without incident we are little more than a fortnight from your father.” He saw the mixed emotions flash across her expressive face. “This has been an arduous journey for you, my lady,” he said gently. “You must be glad to see it end.” Alex stared out to sea. “Yes, Smitty, I suppose.” The weeks since the night of Drake’s injury had been strained and difficult ones for her. She had expected many things from him, but indifference had not been one of them. He no longer snapped at her or ordered her about, but he also no longer sat with her on deck at night, talking until dawn streaked the sky, nor did he look at her with that barely concealed desire that had once made her heart pound. He was polite, distant, self-absorbed … a stranger. And it hurt.

“It seems forever since we left London,” she resumed. “The winds have been unusually strong, but that fierce storm we encountered in April blew us off course, and …” She raised her eyes to the clear May sky. “Smitty, I am afraid,” she whispered in a small, shaken voice.

His expression was tender. “Of what, my lady?”

She waited a moment before answering. “I fear that I have deluded myself into thinking my father’s reaction would be favorable. In truth he will be outraged by my arrival.”

“Are you regretting your decision to come to York?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No. Despite my father’s objections I am glad I came. It was something I had to do.” She smiled up at him. “Besides, it gave me the opportunity to meet all of you.
La Belle’s
crew has become very important to me. Especially you.”

Smitty gave her a knowing look. “And the captain as well?”

She shrugged. “Perhaps.”

He chuckled. “Are you being entirely honest with yourself, my lady?”

“Does it matter, Smitty?” She met his gaze directly. “Regardless of any feelings I might or might not have for Captain Barrett, he must go his way and I must go mine.”

“Are you so certain?”

She gave a brief nod. “Yes. There are some social boundaries that even I would not dare cross.”

“What if you were to fall in love? Would that not influence your future?” he persisted.

She sighed deeply. “I cannot answer that. Perhaps I am a coward, after all, or perhaps I am just not strong enough to meet such a challenge. Let us hope that when I fall in love it will be with an acceptable man.”

“Acceptable to your family?”

She nodded again. “I do not care what the
ton
thinks of me, but the need for my family’s acceptance, if not their approval, is too deeply ingrained for me to abandon.”

“I suppose that the idea of a young lady spending her first Season running about a merchant ship clothed in a man’s shirt and breeches is not their notion of how a noblewoman should spend her leisure time.” His eyes twinkled.

Smitty’s attempt at humor accomplished what he intended. His relief was evident when Alex giggled at the picture his words conveyed. “Definitely not,” she agreed. “So the question is moot. Feelings or not, there can be no future for Drake and me.” She turned her gaze back to the sea. “It is good that we have arrived. It is time for my new life to begin … and my old one to end.”

He smiled wisely. “Only fate can show us what is ours to keep or ours to leave behind. Trust in her wisdom, my lady.”

Alex looked back at him. “You are a wonderful man, Smitty. And you have been the very best of friends to me. I will miss you.”

“And I you, my lady.” He paused. “But it is not yet time for good-byes. Come and watch our approach to the Saint Lawrence. The view is spectacular.”

Alex went to the railing, joy reflected in her face. She stared, transfixed, at her first view of Newfoundland’s rocky cliffs. Flocks of birds circled the formidable rock formations, surveying the waters for fish, then diving after their prey. The waves broke fiercely against the towering stones, spraying glittering streams of water along their rough surfaces. It was glorious.