Addicted to the Duke

by Bronwen Evans

  “That bad?” Costa said.

  Alex ran a hand over his face. God, he was tired. Tired of wondering what the right thing to do was.

  “You have a small church in Pentati? How soon would I be able to marry?”

  Costa spluttered. “Married…Ah, to Lady Hestia. You think that should protect her from Fredrick Cary?”

  “If she is married her dowry and inheritance are mine. There would be no reason to kill her.”

  Costa took another drink and then said, “But it makes her Murad’s target.”

  His glass stopped halfway to his mouth and his body started to shake. The look of pity on Costa’s face made his blood run cold. Fool. Stupid bloody fool. If Murad learned he had a wife, and it was Hestia, the woman who got away, she would be his first target.

  “I have to get married tomorrow morning and Hestia has to leave for Corfu Town with Jacob immediately.”

  “And you’ll still set sail to meet Murad?” At his question Alex turned to Costa and stared him down. “Of course you will. I had hoped the woman had changed your mind about revenge.”

  “If Tulay had been your wife, would you let him live?”

  Costa sat silent for several seconds, his knee jiggling. “But the relationship you had with Tulay was not what I share with my wife,” he said quietly. “I don’t think what you and Tulay had could be called a traditional marriage in any sense.”

  His jaw tightened as memories, blurred and distorted, filled his mind. “We made a pact, Tulay and I. We used each other to survive.”

  “Exactly. You survived, and she would not want you to do anything to reverse that.”

  “The point is moot now. Once Murad hears of my marriage he’ll come for her. Lady Hestia escaped Murad’s clutches by my hand and Murad will want his revenge. The only way to ensure she escapes is to go to meet him while they sail safely home.”

  Costa jumped to his feet. “My God, you’re sending them home on the Angelica. You can’t mean to sail after Murad in one of my ships.” He began pacing. “Is this why you asked to speak to me in private? Jacob will not stand for this ridiculous plan.”

  Alex slowly rose to his feet until he towered over Costa. “My plans are not open to discussion. All I wish you to do is arrange for a wedding to occur as soon as possible—tomorrow would be best. The marriage will be recognized in England if the correct papers are issued. When I was convalescing here, a Catholic priest came to read me my last rites. I believe your village has a Catholic priest. Will he marry us if we are not baptized Catholic?”

  “No. But you are in luck. There is a visiting English clergyman staying in the village. His sister is married to one of the majors stationed in Corfu Town. They are here on a vacation. Apparently they had been told about the beauty and tranquillity of our bay. I’m sure the priest will allow the use of the church and this clergyman could hold the ceremony.”

  That was a coincidence. Alex’s fists slowly uncurled and he took a step back from Costa. “Thank you. Perhaps we could visit him now and get it all sorted.” And he finished his drink.

  —

  Hestia lay in a warm tub, her eyes closed as one of Costa’s daughters washed her hair. She listened to the girl’s excited chatter, barely able to understand her thick accent. It sounded as if Paloma was a little infatuated with Alex. What girl wouldn’t be?

  It felt fabulous to be on land for a change, even though the floor still pitched and rolled beneath her feet.

  She hoped Alex would come to her tonight, but she knew it was unlikely. They were in Costa’s house with his children and they were not married.

  Perhaps instead she would find David after her bath and have the dreaded conversation. Her father always said it was better to face distasteful tasks head on.

  Half an hour later, freshly bathed and dressed like a woman for a change, she decided to take a stroll in the olive grove before dinner to try and get rid of the feel of the ship still rolling under her feet. The humid starry night called to her spirit, and she took deep breaths. Her feet moved of their own accord and couldn’t help but twirl in the first dress she’d worn in weeks. With arms stretched above her head she skipped along the rows of olive trees humming to herself. When she got to the end of the third row she saw a little bench seat that had a view out over the ocean. The seat was the perfect place to sit and contemplate.

  “You should dance more often, it’s such an uplifting sight.”

  The unexpected voice made her jump. As she stepped out of the trees she saw David standing to her right. Thank goodness he couldn’t see the shade her face must have gone.

  He looked very handsome that night. He was freshly bathed, and his wet hair gleamed. If her heart did not belong to Alex she perhaps could have fallen for the caring surgeon.

  She took a deep breath and walked forward to meet him. “The beauty of this place makes me feel like dancing.” She pointed to the bench. “Shall we?”

  He waited until she was seated before taking the spot beside her, and for a few seconds they sat in silence. Hestia plucked at the lace edging of her dress.

  “Costa has quite the little paradise here, doesn’t he?” she finally said.

  “It is a secret haven all right. I’ve sailed these waters a lot over the years, especially during the war, and I did not know it was here until Costa sent for me when he’d first rescued Alex.”

  She knew she shouldn’t ask; if she wanted to know more she should ask Alex, but he was hiding darkness and needed help to bring his pain into the light.

  “What happened to Alex when he was imprisoned by Murad?”

  “Did he not tell you?”

  She shook her head. “I do know he loved a woman called Tulay.”

  His eyebrows rose. “He has never spoken of Tulay to me.”

  “If Costa called for you, he must have been badly injured.”

  “He was, but Costa called for Jacob, not me. I simply happened to be on board Jacob’s ship. We had attempted to rescue Alex from Murad, but his pirates outnumbered us, and his many ships had immense power. We barely managed to sail away after we took a pounding under cannon fire. We thought we’d missed our opportunity to stage a rescue and that Alex was lost to us. We did not realize our attack gave him the opportunity to escape until we received the missive from Costa.”

  “He was very lucky to have such relentless friends, wasn’t he.”

  David barely smiled. “When I first got to this bay, lucky would not be the word I’d use to describe Alex’s situation.”

  What could she say to that? Instead, Hestia waited for him to continue.

  “His two years with Murad had taken its toll. He’d been treated well, originally, but then Murad had shown his true colors. He was badly beaten and abused during captivity, but those wounds had healed, only scars to show for it. His body was badly emaciated and he looked like a walking skeleton.”

  Hestia had seen a couple of scars on his torso but had thought he’d gotten those when fighting the Turks. If he wasn’t covered in wounds, why had he been in such bad shape? “Did he almost die of thirst in the rowboat?”

  “Lack of water didn’t help, that’s true, but it was his dependence on opium that almost killed him.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t understand. How did opium hurt him? I thought it was a useful medicine. Didn’t we give him laudanum for his pain, doesn’t that contain opium?”

  His fists clenched on his thighs. “The Turks smoke it. They use it for recreational purposes.”

  “So it is like tobacco?”

  He moved on the seat. “Ah, not exactly. Opium, when it is smoked or ingested, can take you to a happy place. It eases pain, which is why I told you to give him a small amount of laudanum. But if you take more it also fills you with euphoria, makes you feel like nothing in the world is impossible. It’s a kind of dreamland where no one and nothing can hurt you.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “To begin with perhaps, but soon it’s more of a nightmare than
a dream.” At her look of confusion he added, “A person can come to depend on the feeling opium generates, especially if their world is not a pleasant one.”

  “And that is bad because…”

  “Because soon a small amount of opium is not enough. Too much can kill you. Besides, you end up wanting more and more, and if you can’t get it you will do almost anything—no, you will do anything to get more opium. That is how Murad controls his captives. He can bend them to his will, make them do things they would never consider doing if they did not crave the opium.”

  Hestia’s imagination took flight. What sorts of things would Murad force a man like Alex to do? Her stomach began to tighten and bile rose up her throat. No wonder he had nightmares.

  “Worse still, once your body is used to the opium, when you can’t get any more, it begins to break down. Your body suffers terribly. Alex thinks it was me who saved him, but I didn’t even know what I was dealing with or how to help it. It was a miracle, or his stubborn strength, that pulled him through.”

  His tone had hardened.

  “Why don’t you admire him for his strength?” she asked.

  He looked at her. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s because knowing how dangerous taking opium can be, he continues to do so. Nothing I say can stop him. One day he will succumb again. And God help those who are around him at the time.”

  Hestia sat back and considered the amounts of laudanum she’d given Alex when David had warned her not to. Now she understood why. However, she could see no change in Alex’s behavior and she was sure he wasn’t taking any laudanum now.

  “You know he’s going after Murad?”

  She nodded at his question. “I’m beginning to understand why.” Her imagination ran riot thinking of what a man like Murad might have forced Alex to do.

  “Yet you’re still going to marry him instead of me?”

  She turned to face the man she’d come to think of as her friend. “You told me you wanted to marry for love. That being a younger son gave you that freedom because you were not important. What your family wanted didn’t matter. Your family expected you to marry for money but you wanted more.” She reached for his hand. “It was the same for me. I want the love match my parents never had.”

  “I could love you,” he said simply.

  “Maybe I could have loved you too, if I had met you first. But my heart belongs to Alex and probably always will. I can’t have you sacrificing your dream of love when I will never be able to make that dream come true.”

  “He could die facing Murad, then what? You’ll never remarry?” At her nod he growled deep in his chest. “You’ll live your life alone, a duchess of nothing, childless, with only bittersweet memories? You deserve more than that.”

  “He might live,” she said softly, as if voicing the idea would make her wish come true.

  “In his condition I think the odds are against him.”

  She slowly withdrew her hand at the venom in David’s tone. “We cannot help who we fall in love with.”

  He sighed. “Meeting you has taught me that lesson. I never dreamed I’d fall in love with a woman who could not love me back. Arrogance is humbling.” He sat staring into the night, obviously deep in thought. He pulled a flask from his inside jacket pocket. “I need this,” he said, and appeared to take a long swig. He handed it to her. “Shall we drink to our friendship then?”

  She hesitated, but seeing the pain in his eyes, she took the flask and brought it to her lips. Before she could drink or react, David’s hand gripped her head and pulled it back, while his other hand forced the flask to her lips and poured the burning fluid down her throat. She tried to push the flask away, choking on the sweet liquid she knew was laudanum. Finally, once the flask was empty he let her go.

  She leaned over the side of the bench and retched, trying to bring up as much of the sweet-tasting liquor as possible. “Why, David?” Already her head was feeling heavy and wooziness slipped across her senses.

  “Life has also taught me that sometimes, when those you love are not thinking clearly, you have to protect them from themselves.” He pulled her toward him so she lay in his lap. “Don’t fight, sweetheart, sleep. When you wake up you’ll be safe. Safe from Fredrick Cary and Murad and also Alex, the damnable Duke of Bedford.”

  The last thing she remembered was his hand gently stroking her face.

  Chapter 19

  Alex had finally returned from the church with good news. He began to strip off the layers of formal clothing that clung to his sweat-soaked skin and couldn’t wait to immerse himself in the bath Costa’s servant had filled for him.

  The Reverend Roberts was overawed at meeting the Duke of Bedford, and saw no problem in performing the marriage ceremony the day after next. Alex wanted the wedding to take place tomorrow, but he sensed he’d lose the reverend’s support if he pushed. He did not wish the man of God to think there was anything scandalous about this marriage.

  Alex had worked hard to convince him that Hestia wanted to get married in an area her father loved. He told the reverend Fredrick Cary’s version of events: that her father, the antiquities explorer, had died and that this was the place in Greece he loved most and Hestia felt closest to him here.

  As Alex slipped into the cooling water, his shoulders and neck began to relax. His stomach was another story—it was tied up in knots. He was about to marry. He could not stop memories of Tulay—and the pledge they had made to each other. A pledge to help each other escape the horror of their lives and their captivity—filled his head.

  He’d failed with a disastrous outcome.

  If he still believed in God he’d pray that this wedding would have a better ending, at least for Hestia.

  Hestia.

  He smiled. Today she’d looked beautiful in her happiness at being on land again, and this being Costa’s house would not stop him from seeking Hestia out once he’d bathed. Only to talk of course. He needed to ensure she understood what she was getting into by marrying him.

  Instead of David.

  He wasn’t sure his friendship with David would survive his marriage to Hestia. David had fallen for her, and why wouldn’t he? She was beautiful, clever, compassionate, brave—all the things a man could love in a woman.

  That is what ate at him. There was no doubt in his mind that David loved her. Yet Alex didn’t know if he could ever love anyone. After what had happened to him at the hands of Murad, how could he love anyone if he could not love himself?

  He wondered if what he felt for Hestia was close to love. She certainly stirred something deep within him, but love? He did worry about her, but no more than he would about anyone close to him. He looked forward to seeing her, a lot more than he did most people. He loved making love to her—making love?

  The soap slipped through his fingers and fell into the tub.

  He’d never used that term with any other women. Mutual pleasure. Fantastic sex. Sensual gratification—but never making love. Yet what Hestia and he shared could not be called any of those things—or maybe they could be called all of those things and so much more. With Hestia it had been different.

  Love. He loved Hestia.

  The fact he loved her should have warmed him, because he thought he was incapable of love. Instead his blood ran cold. If Murad learned of this, she was not safe, regardless of whom she married or if she remained single. As long as she meant something to him, she would be a target.

  He needed to talk to Hestia and explain the danger she was in if she stayed in Greece. He had to convince her that as soon as they married she should leave with Jacob on the Angelica. Jacob would sail to Corfu Town and pick up her father and then take them all home.

  She would try to fight him on this, but if he had to, Jacob would drag her away.

  He could not be responsible for Murad hurting another woman just because she had chosen Alex.

  He felt around at his feet for the soap, cursing when it kept slipping a
way.

  Just then Costa knocked and called through the door. “Are you alone?”

  “Of course. Come in.”

  Costa poked his head around the door, and seeing Alex alone in the tub, he frowned. “We may have a problem.”

  Alex gave up searching for the soap and lay back in the tub. “What now?”

  “Lady Hestia is not in her room. I thought she might be with you.”

  Alex bolted upright and reached for a towel. “She must be here. Where was she last seen?”

  “My daughter said after her bath she decided to walk in the olive grove. She should be perfectly safe there.”

  “Have you alerted Jacob and David?”

  “Jacob is already organizing a search, but I cannot find Mr. Foxhall.”

  Alex stopped rubbing himself dry and jumped from the tub, fear encasing his skin in ice. David and Hestia missing could not be a coincidence. How stupid could he be? Alex knew David was not happy with his decision to marry her. David most likely thought he was saving the girl from being married to a laudanum fiend, but David could get her killed, or worse, captured by Murad.

  He threw the towel in the corner and pulled on his breeches. “How long has she been missing?” He had to know the head start the pair had.

  “At least an hour.”

  Hestia would not go quietly. That should slow them down. He stopped pulling his shirt over his head with the dreaded thought that David might drug her.

  “David’s taken her.”

  Costa’s mouth fell open.

  “Believe me. He has. It’s a long story, my friend.”

  Costa ran a hand through his hair. “But where could he take her? Unless you know the path through the cliffs, there is no way out of this bay.”

  “He’s been here before. He knows.” As he finished dressing, Alex came to the only conclusion. “Can he access any of your boats?”

  “He could, but he needs to know the exact route to take through the passageway or else he’s likely to sink any boat on the rocks.”

  At least David had never navigated the passage. “The path then.” Alex moved even faster at that. “We have to stop him whichever way he’s chosen to leave.”