Andrea Kane (26 page)

A joyous bark broke into his thoughts. Alex and Black-beard were now wrestling playfully in the shallow waves. Alex looked about her, then seized a long, thin stick and tossed it onto the shore.

“Fetch, Blackbeard!” she commanded.

Ever eager to please, the puppy dropped the wrinkled chemise and bolted, returning instantly, his tail waving with triumph, the stick between his teeth.

“I suppose you are waiting for praise!” Alex glared at him, trying, unsuccessfully to smooth out her undergarment.

The happy pup dropped his stick at her feet and gave her a hopeful look.

She melted, dropping onto her knees on the sand beside him. “Very well, I shall forgive you,” she conceded, hugging his soft golden fur. “Although I don’t know why. You are more trouble than any mongrel is worth.”

Blackbeard yipped his protest at the slanderous remark.

“I am sorry if it offends you, but it happens to be the truth,” she retorted. “I know you believe yourself to be a retriever of impeccable pedigree, and I do agree that there is much retriever blood in you, but your markings”—she stroked his soft black beard—”tell me that your parentage is questionable.” She stroked his silky head. “But your heart is pure, and that is what matters, not your blood.” With that she stood and released the pup, who took off eagerly into the woods.

Drake’s breath caught in his throat as Alex, unaware that she was being observed, unbuttoned the shirt, which she rarely wore anymore, and tossed it onto the sand, then pulled the chemise over her head and let it flow along the contours of her body.

For a fleeting moment Drake contemplated shedding his breeches and actually taking Alex right there in the water. But another glance at the raft beside him brought him to his senses. As much as he wanted to give in to the excruciating pleasure of ravishing his wife’s lush body, he could no longer put off this inevitable conversation.

He walked behind her, wrapping his arms about her waist. “Hello, wife,” he whispered into her tangled hair. “Do you think you can part with that sorry excuse for a dog for just a moment? We need to talk.”

Despite his teasing words, Alex heard the seriousness of his tone. She turned, met his gaze, and nodded. Hand in hand they walked away from the shore until they reached the spot where the raft lay, symbolizing their imminent departure.

“It is almost completed,” Drake said quietly.

“I know.” Alex’s voice was devoid of emotion. “And my head is totally healed. After all, it has been nearly a month since my accident.”

Drake caressed her with his eyes. “It seems, princess, that our time in paradise is coming to an end.” His words hung heavily in the air. Finally, and with gentle understanding, he drew her fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “We should go back to the shelter,” he suggested tenderly. “It is not wise to stay out in the open for this length of time.”

Alex watched him stride back to the river’s edge to collect the shirt she had discarded. He was the most magnificent of men; his taut, muscular body and strong, chiseled features never failed to make her pulse flutter. And, here, he was hers.

The future and all its uncertainties loomed ahead. Would they succeed in reaching Canada alive, and if they did, what fate awaited them? Their old lives had been snatched away from them. Yet here on their island they had been able to live as husband and wife, with all life’s harsh realities held in abeyance. Would it be possible, in spite of then-drastic differences, to build a new life together?

She honestly didn’t know.

Drake lay awake far into the night, staring at the wooden roof of their lean-to. Beneath that crude and hastily constructed roof Drake had experienced a happiness and contentment that had been denied to him beneath the palatial, gilded ceilings of Allonshire. And now he would return to that austere world, to make a customary visit prior to another trip at sea.

If all went well, he and Alex would soon arrive safely in British territory. Then they would make their way to Kingston, where he could acquire another ship for their journey back to England … to Allonshire. The thought made him ill.

He sighed, shifting his weight on the soft grass. The movement disturbed Alex, and she mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep and snuggled closer against her husband’s warmth, her hair draped across his chest. Drake smiled tenderly. Who would believe that this tiny, utterly innocent-looking angel had been an abandoned tigress beneath him less than an hour past? He had felt her urgency, understood it, and shared it. Their time alone together was growing short.

He had to tell her. He loathed the thought. He was a damned nobleman, heir to a dukedom, wealthier than hell— everything she had tried to escape. Perhaps she would understand that he, in his deception, was also trying to escape the rigid confines of the way of life they both abhorred.

But he had lied to her. And
that
she would never forgive.

He tightened his arms around her possessively. She was his. She would stay his, no matter what lay ahead. Alexandria Cassel Barrett was his wife.

It was the barking that awakened them.

“Drake?” Alex’s voice was a sleepy question.

“Obviously Blackbeard has decided to begin his day at dawn,” he grumbled back, drawing her against him. She felt so damned good—except that she was squirming to free herself.

“He never barks like that … so frantically,” she said in a worried voice. “Perhaps I should see what the problem is.” She paused. “Well?” she demanded. “Aren’t you even a little curious?”

He groaned. “You wore me out last night, princess. I need to regain my strength.”

Alex’s eyes twinkled. “Very well. I shall investigate on my own.” She shrugged into Drake’s shirt and made her way through the trees toward the persistent sound of Blackbeard’s bark. At the clearing she stopped short. “My God. A ship.” Panic surged through her as she realized the danger they were in. She hurried forward before the ship was close enough to see her, snatched the long-limbed puppy in her arms, and raced back to their shelter.

“Drake!” Her voice was shaking.

He sat up immediately. “Love, what is it?”

“A ship. And it’s very close to shore.” She stared at him, terror in her eyes. “Do you think they’ve spotted us?”

“I don’t know.” He had already donned his breeches. “We must stay out of sight.”

They both held their breath and waited. The ship was close, very close. They could actually hear the movement of the water beneath its hull. Blackbeard whined and struggled in Alex’s arms.

“Stay still!” she ordered, holding him tighter.

The pup, who was accustomed to only the gentlest of treatment from his beloved mistress, gave a sharp bark of protest, then tore himself from her arms.

“Blackbeard, come back!” Alex was halfway out of the lean-to before Drake yanked her back in.

“Are you out of your mind?” he demanded. “You are not going out there!”

Alex looked up at him with frightened eyes. “But they’ll see him. He could get hurt”

“That is still no reason to risk your life.”

“But if the Americans see Blackbeard they’ll suspect that there are people here as well,” she protested weakly.

“That’s a chance we will just have to take.” He released her arm, convinced that she wouldn’t dare defy him.

He should have known better.

The moment she was free, Alex sprinted out into the woods, calling Blackbeard’s name frantically, pleading with him to return to safety.

“Damn you, Alexandria,” Drake exploded, tearing through the woods with the greatest of speed in the hope of overtaking his impulsive wife before she forfeited both their lives.

Blackbeard had reached the water’s edge and was barking furiously at the approaching ship. Alex was close behind, terrified as she saw that the ample-sized schooner was almost upon them. And all at once she stopped dead in her tracks just as Drake grabbed her from behind.

“Drake,” she breathed, “she’s flying a British flag! How is that possible?”

Drake stared over Alex’s head, and suddenly a huge smile broke out across his bearded face.

“There is only one person with enough nerve to fly the British flag this deep into American territory.”

Simultaneously Smitty’s voice reached them through his speaking trumpet. “Captain?” he politely inquired. “May I offer you a ride?”

B
LACKBEARD WAS HAILED A
hero.

As a result of his reckless behavior there was much cause for celebration among
La Belle Illusion’s
re-united crew as their newly-acquired schooner cruised down the Saint Lawrence. Fortunately the pup retained his humility and was satisfied with a hearty beef dinner and free rein on his new moving domicile. It was soon obvious that Blackbeard was indeed a sea dog who had probably spent his entire young life aboard a ship.

Having completed his exploration, he sprang unceremoniously upon the quarterdeck, curled up beside the helm at Drake’s feet, and made himself at home.

Smitty began to laugh. “I see you have acquired a new admirer during your absence, Captain.”

“He much resembles Drake, does he not, Smitty?” Alex asked from the main deck. “Especially their bearded faces?”

Drake looked down in amazement as Blackbeard contentedly sniffed the sea air, then began nibbling at Drake’s boots. “His arrogance is staggering,” he muttered.

“Another startling similarity,” Alex agreed.

Drake shot her a dark look, and Smitty beamed.

“It is so good to have you both back again, alive and well,” he told them.

There was a moment of hesitation. “It is good we are
all
safe, Smitty,” Alex replied at last. “Thank God you and the crew were able to make your way to Kingston.”

She was relieved when Smitty turned to Drake and plunged into a full accounting of the past month’s events, for she needed a moment to herself. Walking over to the rail, she bade a silent farewell to the wondrous island that had been home for a brief, idyllic time. She had left a part of herself there, an innocence and joy that would remain forever amid the island’s magic. She only prayed that a bit of the enchantment had remained inside her as well, to guide her through the weeks to come.

Drake glanced over at her. He knew what she was feeling, for he was experiencing mixed emotions as well—grateful to be alive, elated to be reunited with his crew and to know for certain that they had all survived, yet poignantly saddened at leaving their very own Eden.

Life had no easy answers, only very complex questions.

“Princess? Why don’t you go below and get some rest?”

Alex turned to face him, nodding. “You and Smitty have much to discuss, no doubt. And I am already uncomfortable in Thomas’s breeches. I had become so used to not needing …” She blushed scarlet, realizing what she had been about to say. “I’ll go rest.” She ducked below with great haste.

Drake chuckled. “That was the fastest I have ever seen Alexandria obey me. I dare not hope it will continue.”

Smitty saw the softness in Drake’s gaze, just as he had seen the glow on Alex’s face. Perhaps, despite his own frantic worry about their well-being, the last month had served a good purpose.

“It feels wonderful to be back at the helm,” Drake commented, gripping the wheel and looking about him. “I hope you did not mind relinquishing it to me?”

“It was my pleasure, Captain. I only wish it could have been
La Belle Illusion.”

Drake’s jaw tightened. “There will be other ships, Smitty. The American ship was simply too powerful for
La Belle.
We did not stand a chance.”

“No, we did not stand a chance,” Smitty agreed quietly. “But I do not believe that it was because of the American ship’s superiority.”

Drake scowled. “What does that mean?”

“The men and I have had much time to talk, to reconstruct the events of that day. All of them swear that the guns were targeted perfectly, the elevations well suited to our distance from the military brig.”

“Yet all our volleys fell short.”

“Yes.” Smitty was quiet for a moment, giving Drake time to absorb the information.

“You agree with their assessment?”

Smitty nodded. “I do.”

“Perhaps the wrong amount of powder was placed in the cartridges,” Drake suggested.

Smitty shook his head. “Mannings is skilled at filling the cartridges. It is possible that he could estimate incorrectly once, perhaps twice. But again and again? No, that I do not believe.”

“Nor do I.” Drake stared out to sea for a brief moment. “That leaves only one alternative. The gunpowder itself was not at full strength.”

“I would have to agree with you, Captain.”

“Do you suspect that it was tampered with?”

“I honestly do not know, Captain. It does seem to be a distinct possibility, although no one could have been certain that we would have need of our cannons.”

Drake looked grim. “No, but there was every likelihood, in light of the impending war with America, that we would have to defend ourselves. The odds were good that cutting the potency of our powder would prove successful. And I intend to discover the truth.” He paused. “Smitty, please do not mention this in front of Alexandria. I do not want to frighten her; she has endured a great deal these last months.”

“Of course, Captain.” Smitty studied Drake’s face. “You haven’t told her, have you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I believe that is obvious.”

“Do you perceive your wife to be so shallow that she would think less of you for who you are?”

Drake met Smitty’s gaze. “I think my wife would cheerfully murder me if she knew the truth.”

“She will find out soon enough, Captain.”

Drake nodded. “Yes. But I shall have weeks at sea to prepare her for the shock.”

“Her reaction will be more severe the longer you wait.”

“I do not need you to serve as my conscience, Smitty.” Drake didn’t know who he was angrier with, Smitty or himself. Suddenly all the doubts and the bitterness seemed to be resurfacing, reminding him of his vulnerability at Alex’s hands.

“As you wish, Captain.”

“Wishing is for romantics and fools.” Drake’s voice was hard.