Addicted to the Duke

by Bronwen Evans

  As he turned to escort her below, Hestia caught the look of pure evil spreading across Connor’s face. His eyes darkened and he looked like he’d love to plunge a knife into Mr. Foxhall’s back. His fists were clenched at his side and veins in his neck stuck out. She shivered. She now understood she’d had a very lucky escape.

  Once back on the main deck, Hestia turned all her charm on the man at her side. “I thought maybe you’d escort me about the ship; I required some fresh air.” She beamed prettily at him, clasping her hands behind her back. “Are you free to accompany me?”

  Mr. Foxhall looked about to decline her request, but as her smile dimmed he nodded. “It’s a pleasant day for a stroll.”

  Perhaps she could get Mr. Foxhall to reveal a bit about Alex’s past.

  Slipping her hand onto his massive forearm, Hestia smiled and said, “I should really learn my way about the ship just in case. I’m sure you can explain her workings to me as we walk, and indicate any good hiding places should I ever need them.”

  “That’s a good point. If we are boarded, there are a couple of places many would not think to look.”

  With that they set out on a pleasant amble around the massive ship. He warmed to his task, filling her head with stories of the ship’s power and mastery of the sea. His awe for the ship was matched only by his regard for its owner, Alex.

  “Alex was saying you have sailed with him before, Mr. Foxhall.”

  “Please, call me David. It seems ridiculous to keep up such formality given our circumstances.”

  “Only if you call me Hestia,” she replied.

  “Hestia. Goddess of hearth and home. If I had such a lovely woman at home I’m sure I’d prefer to stay on land.”

  His rakish smile made it seem as if he were flirting with her, and her self-esteem perked up. At least one handsome man found her engaging.

  “I have heard the sea is a mistress many men find hard to give up.” She waited to hear his response.

  “Not for me. I could easily give it up for a different kind of life. It wasn’t the sea that drew me. It was the adventure.” He looked out at the horizon. “I have loved visiting different countries and seeing the many different peoples of the world. It has only reinforced what is important universally: home and family. Every country I have visited, that is what people strive for—a good life for their families.”

  They had halted by a very large cannon. Before she could respond, David said, “There is a crawl space behind the mouth of the cannon. See the wood boxing in the end of the cannon? You are small enough to fit in the gap of the cannon’s casing. No one would think to search for you there.”

  She looked at the row of cannons on this deck and at the type of sailors on board the ship. “You are expecting trouble. Are we being followed?”

  “Alex is always careful when sailing in these waters.” He indicated with his arm to move on.

  She tried to make light of his somber caution. “So he should be. I know how dangerous the pirates in these waters can be.” She’d been taken because she slipped away from her father’s men to swim in what she had thought was a deserted cove. When the pirates attacked, her screams brought the men who were supposed to protect her running, but the ruthless pirates left none of the men guarding her alive. They had muffled her screams and no one noticed them carrying her off.

  David squeezed her hand. “There is no need to be brave in front of me. Your capture by Murad must have been terrifying.”

  She swallowed the ever-rising fear. “I’m more prepared this time. I won’t do anything foolish.”

  He simply smiled and began to tell her about the size of the hold and the freshwater tanks. They would take on more fresh water in Mallorca.

  How could she bring the conversation subtly back to Alex? “I know Jacob used to tease Alex that he brought more water on board than rum.”

  “It must have been a strange voyage for you with him last time. Alex said you rebounded well and made the trip home quite an adventure.”

  Hestia colored beneath his knowing gaze. “I enjoyed the voyage. My father was not happy that he’d had to rely on Alex to rescue me. It’s strange. On the one hand he treats Alex like the son he never had, but then he seemed offended at the friendship I had built with Alex.”

  David’s smile faded. His face closed as if he were miles away. Hestia held her breath. Would he tell her? She’d almost given up hope when his quiet words stopped her.

  “I’ve sailed with Alex for many years. I’ll be the first to admit he has a dark side, but don’t you listen to any man who tries to sully his character. He has made mistakes, I admit it, but he’s learned from them. Picked himself back up. He’s a good man. He’d never hurt you. Don’t ever believe otherwise.”

  Hestia touched his arm once more, trying to relieve his distress. “He’s the finest man I know. Nobody would ever be able to convince me differently.”

  The loyal friend smiled down at her. “I hope you can convince him of that fact. He needs someone like you to show him his true self. He needs someone. He thinks he doesn’t. He thinks he’s beyond redemption. You’ll let him know how wrong he is.”

  She took a step back. “What does he seek redemption from?”

  David’s features closed down. He ignored her question and muttered, “Don’t let him scare you off. He’ll try, you know. Just look out for him. You’ll eventually break down his defenses. He’ll see what’s right under his nose.”

  With that last puzzling comment, she noted they were right back at the hatchway to her cabin. Once inside, Hestia lay on her bunk and tried to fathom the enigma that was Alex.

  David wanted her to break down his defenses. How could she when she didn’t understand what he was defending himself against?

  What drove a man like Alex? Years ago he’d ended up a captive of Murad because he’d agreed to lead his men in the 1807 war against the Ottoman Empire. Why had the eldest son of a duke gone to war?

  A light flashed in her head. How could she love the man when she didn’t really know him? She knew a part of him, the part he shared with a young girl of sixteen, who’d been traumatized by Murad.

  How stupid of her. She’d misunderstood his kindness and attentiveness. In her youth she’d mistaken it for interest. She thought he reciprocated the feelings he stirred within her. But now she saw quite clearly that he’d been indulging her.

  She slapped her hand to her forehead. Stupid. No wonder he’d tried to avoid her; he was embarrassed by her assumption of feelings. Her face was aflame with heat.

  She’d been waiting all this time for Alex to act on his feelings and propose, when he didn’t view their relationship in that way.

  A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. She was in love with a man whom she didn’t really know and who did not view her in the same light.

  What was she to do? Grow up, that’s what.

  She rolled over and sat up on the edge of her bed. Hestia took a deep breath and made a vow. She would not follow Alex around like a lost puppy anymore. She would treat him with respect, and as a friend. An acquaintance. Perhaps if she did not chase him so much he might notice her and begin to see her differently.

  She didn’t want to disrupt Alex’s plans to find her father. Her family.

  A deep longing gripped her—family.

  As an only child she had always longed for siblings. She vividly pictured what a life with Alex would be like. Alex had two brothers and two sisters whom he adored. His father was dead, but she got the feeling they had been estranged. From the family stories he told her, it appeared that he indulged and tolerated his mother. From his tales of childhood she knew the siblings were close, and Hestia felt as if she knew them already. She liked his sisters, especially Therese, who was the same age as her.

  How she’d longed to have siblings. What would it be like to be part of a large loving family? To have a sister to share secrets with? A brother to tease and to shield you from danger? To have family who cared about you and wa
nted to see you, include you, and be with you?

  She wanted to have loads of children.

  She’d planned to provide Alex with plenty of healthy sons and daughters, and she expected to thoroughly enjoy making them. The Bedford family seat, Bracken Park, would be filled with warmth, happiness, and energy, as well as something tangible—a contentment that grew from shared love, a partnership that filled the soul.

  She’d never envisioned a life without Alex, but the realization that he really did not see her as a potential duchess cut deep.

  Was it because he did not consider her good enough to be his wife? Her Welsh heritage, the kidnapping and scandal, all black marks on her character? Or had her constant adoration pained him? Why did he keep pushing her away, when it was obvious from the flare in his eyes when they did meet that he was not immune to her?

  She knew if he ever married anyone else it would destroy her world.

  While Hestia was entirely comfortable at Cresselly House, her home in Pembrokeshire, Wales, she hated the days of isolation. She was grateful that she had her aunt for company and the staff were excellent, had known her since she was born. They had loved her mother, and in turn loved and cared for her.

  But it wasn’t the same. There was the gap of their stations in life that would always separate them. Plus she had no other children her own age to play with. That is why she’d jumped at the chance to accompany her father on one of his trips. A grave mistake, as it turned out. It had only made it impossible for her to ever accompany him again and had led to further isolation while the scandal died down.

  She was not entirely unhappy, but she knew the only true glow of happiness she’d ever experienced was by Alex’s side. He’d never judged her for what occurred. Nor had he ever tried to make her feel ashamed. Yet looking back she could see it all so clearly now—he’d indulged her like he did his mother.

  For long moments, she stared unseeing across the cabin, then she mentally shook herself and concentrated on what she should do now.

  Chapter 9

  What the devil was Hestia up to? Alex had not seen her for two days. He no longer had to make plans to avoid her because it appeared she was avoiding him.

  She took great pains to stay out of his way, and every time he turned around she was with either David or Jacob. He should be happy that his plan to push Hestia toward David was working, but hell, for a woman he’d spent the last two years trying to avoid her pursuit of him, she seemed rather fickle with her affections.

  His eyes narrowed as he watched her help David attend to an injured sailor.

  Or was she playing games, hoping he would care that he was no longer the center of her world?

  Damn it, he did care! Yet he shouldn’t. This voyage was about revenge. Nothing more. He couldn’t let his desire for her cloud his mind.

  When he stepped out of his cabin that morning after a late shift on deck, she was already at the table.

  She barely glanced his way, her nose in a book. No smile from her pouty, sensuous lips like she usually gave him, and he missed that.

  “Good morning, Hestia.”

  “Good morning. The eggs will still be hot if you’d like some. I can get Cook to bring more ham.”

  He waved the food away, merely pouring a coffee to clear the fuzz in his brain. He’d not been sleeping well, choosing instead to walk the deck at night rather than laudanum to keep the nightmares at bay.

  “I’ll be out of your way in a minute. Since David always uses his cabin as a place to treat the men, I’ve promised him to help clean out the cabin he is using on this voyage to make a space for surgery. One of the men has a terrible splinter in his foot.”

  The fact that she wanted to leave his company stabbed his pride and ego. He used to be her sunshine. “There is no rush; in fact, I’d like to talk with you and learn as much as possible about your father’s plans.”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure that I have any information that could help you. I have brought his last letter with me, where my father told me he was based on Thera, but that he was heading to Kos.”

  A black darkness rushed toward him, in small ripples that soon turned into enormous waves, like spilled ink over a desk. Kos was the center of his nightmares.

  He barely felt the hand that came to rest on his forearm. “Are you all right, Alex?” Her soft words were filled with concern.

  He swallowed down the bile that suddenly swamped his mouth and chased away the disturbing pictures flooding his head by concentrating on the beauty of her blue eyes.

  “Not enough sleep last night. I’ll be fine once I get some fresh air.”

  The concern in her eyes did not dim, so he answered her. “I know Kos well,” he said, almost choking on the words.

  That wasn’t quite true. He knew Murad’s palace stronghold on the cliffs of Kos extremely well. The rest of the island he did not have a chance to explore before he escaped. And when he did, he fled its shores faster than lightning, with the devil on his heels.

  “Is there something about Kos I should know?”

  He looked at her blankly for a moment. “It’s a dangerous island, a Turkish stronghold and very near Bodrum, a village on the coast of Turkey. Pirates operate unhindered in the area.”

  Her eyes filled with fear at the word pirates. He could not bring himself to tell her Murad’s palace was on Kos. If Alex had not rescued her all those years ago, she too would have ended up in a prison made of marble.

  “I will leave you with friends in Corfu,” he offered. “You’ll be safe there.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m safer with you.”

  He could not argue with that. What worried him was that if Murad was still alive and he learned the earl was on Kos, Hestia’s father would become Murad’s number-one target. Murad would want his revenge against the earl for helping Alex escape. The earl must know the danger Murad poses, so why was he risking capture?

  “Once we reach the Mediterranean it would be safer if you stayed below deck. You can come up to stretch your legs and get fresh air once night has fallen.”

  He watched a shiver dance over her slender frame. “You will get no argument from me. I am very aware of the dangers, to you, the ship and crew, and myself.”

  Hestia had always been a logical female.

  “David informs me we shall be taking on provisions in Mallorca. Will I be able to disembark there?”

  Alex only just stopped himself from flinching at the use of his friend’s first name. This is what he wanted. He wanted Hestia to at least like David so that if the need was there, she would not oppose the idea of matrimony with David, so he could keep her safe.

  “Jacob does not believe we are being followed, but we will have to be careful. Fredrick trades in this region and I’m sure the men he has on his payroll are not pleasant fellows. If he has learned of our deception he may well have men looking for us. You may go ashore as long as you take Jacob and his men with you, and you dress as a man.”

  She did not even try to argue. “David has said he’d escort me. I want to buy more cloth to make more shirts. The old shirts in my trunk are a tad too tight across my…”

  He tried not to look, but as a vigorous man his gaze dropped to her pert and bountiful breasts. Over the years he had not been blind to the way she had grown into a voluptuous young woman. When she nervously wet her lips he almost groaned. Instead, he was pleased he was seated at the table.

  “I meant to thank you for keeping my old clothes.”

  Damn, the adoration was back in her eyes. He still to this day did not understand why he had kept the trunk. Probably because Hestia’s presence on that dreadful trip home from the Mediterranean was the only thing that stopped his disappointment at letting Murad slip through his fingers eat him to the bone.

  So he did what any man would do, he lied. “Thank Jacob. He organized it all.”

  “Jacob? I must thank him. The trunk has been most useful. I wonder why he kept my things? Perhaps he thought to give them to a
new cabin boy?” At her raised eyebrow he knew it sounded a lame excuse. Why would Jacob wash and keep her clothes? Why would he? Why did Alex?

  He wanted to remember a happy time. It was that simple, but he could not tell her that. He hated how even now she affected him when no other woman did. Why did it have to be her? Was it because she too had, for a short time, been a victim of Murad?

  Four years ago, days after she had disembarked after their journey home from Greece, Hestia’s enthralling scent had lingered, soothing his anger at his failure. He had lost his one opportunity to kill Murad and get his revenge. His mood became so atrocious Jacob threatened to throw him overboard.

  What bothered him more was that Hestia filled his thoughts and made his failure easier to bear. Rescuing her was the one good thing he’d done when in the Mediterranean. He would still hear her sweet voice echoing through the ship. He had envied how quickly she could put her kidnapping and what happened at Murad’s hands behind her. Still, she had only been a captive for a few days, and in Murad’s presence for but moments. He on the other hand had endured almost two years…

  This trip threw his emotions askew. One moment he wanted to thank Jacob and David for keeping her company and out of his way, but then his darker side emerged and he wanted to slice off their tongues as they regaled him with daily updates on her activities. She had the two of them wrapped around her little finger. They adored her.

  But the nights were the worst torture. The only thing that kept the nightmares at bay was if he dreamed of her. Her lush body beneath his, or over him, in front of him…every which way a man can make love to a woman, until his groin throbbed with need.

  “I’ll go and find Jacob to thank him, if there is nothing else.” Her words broke through his reminiscing and grounded him back in the present.

  “I’m sure Jacob would be embarrassed by your thanks.”