Addicted to the Duke

by Bronwen Evans

  “I wish that I could. But we don’t always get what we wish for.” He knew he should tell her the truth, that it was too late. Tell her that if he had this time again he would have chosen her over his thirst for revenge. She was right, revenge would not change anything about his years in captivity, nor would they bring Tulay back.

  “I do choose you. I just wish I had understood that sooner. It seems all my life I have made the wrong decisions. Perhaps David was right, you would be better off without me.”

  Hestia cupped his cheek in her palm. “If you choose me and stay with me, then turn this ship around and let’s sail back to England. We can send word to my father that we have captured Fredrick.”

  Just then there was a knock on the door. Jacob poked his head in the room. “We have to go. I’ve organized Ned and two of the men to row her to shore.”

  “I’m not going. I’m going to stay with you. I have every right to seek revenge against Murad as well. If you go, I go. When do we sail?”

  “Sail? Lass, Murad and his cannons will be upon us in under twenty minutes.”

  She looked at Alex in disbelief. He merely shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said, sometimes we don’t have a choice. It’s too late, he found me. And if you want me to beat him, you’ll give me peace of mind and be safe on shore.”

  Hestia jumped to her feet, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. “I’m only prepared to go because I want you to be totally focused on beating him and safely return to me.”

  With that Jacob took her by the arm and began pulling her out of the room. She gave Alex one long, lingering look. He could see the fear and the love shining in her eyes. “I promise I’ll be careful.” And he meant those words. He followed the pair up on deck. He took Ned aside and said, “Once you get to Costa, he’ll supply you with fresh horses. Don’t waste any time. Start heading inland. Head for Corfu Town and her father. If we are successful, the Angelica will meet you there. If we are not, then get Lady Hestia and her father onto a ship and heading back to England as soon as possible.”

  “Aye, Your Grace.”

  “Good lad.”

  Then he turned to Hestia. “Go with Ned and promise me you’ll do everything he says. He’ll take you to your father. It will be a hard two-day journey, but the farther you are from the sea the safer you will be.” He put a finger to her lips to stop her rebuking him. “I will see you in Corfu Town. I have too much to live for to let Murad win again.”

  “I shall be waiting. Always waiting.”

  Alex stood watching as the rowboat was lowered into the water and headed back through the narrow passage. Only when it was finally out of sight did he turn to face his nemesis. His enemy’s ship was almost within striking range. He looked around at his men. Cannons were at the ready, and with the Angelica already in full sail, he hoped his ship had the power to win.

  He had to win. He desperately wanted a life with Hestia. It was as if a lightning bolt had illuminated the thoughts in his head. It wasn’t revenge that would heal him. It was her love. Love was more powerful than hate, because you could never kill it. Even if Murad succeeded in killing him, he would live on in Hestia’s heart.

  Buoyed by grim determination, Alex strode to the helm. He nodded at Jacob, standing down on the poop deck. Jacob yelled out, “Fire,” and the loud explosion of cannon fire disturbed the tranquil setting. This time he would take the fight to Murad. And this time they would win.

  Chapter 22

  The battle was over almost before it began. As soon as the first cannonball flew over the bow of Murad’s ship, a white flag rose up its pole.

  “What is he up to?” Jacob asked as he chewed his bottom lip.

  Alex didn’t trust the Turkish pirate, and coldness seeped into the pit of his stomach. Murad was neither foolish nor stupid. “Whatever he’s up to, we have to listen. He never does anything without a reason.”

  “You’re not going to meet him?” Jacob asked incredulously as they saw a rowboat being lowered over the side.

  “You know the answer to that. Of course I’m going to meet him. But he can row to the side of the Angelica and he will converse with me safely on this deck.”

  Jacob merely nodded at that before yelling at one of his men to raise their white flag in response. For now they would have a truce, but Alex and Jacob knew they had to be ready for anything.

  While he stood waiting for the small rowboat to draw closer, he tried to analyze Murad’s strategy. With a good rifle, Alex could put a bullet right through Murad’s cold heart. Sweat began to dribble between his shoulder blades as the urge to pick up a gun grew. Murad knew he risked death, and that meant he had a plan. A plan Alex was pretty sure he was not going to like.

  “Alex, at last we meet again. I never thought I’d have the pleasure of seeing my altin kole—my golden slave—again.”

  “You’re beginning to repeat yourself; perhaps that’s a sign of old age. I remember you greeting me with those same words four years ago on the island of Mykonos. And look how that turned out. You ran away like a whipped dog.”

  Alex knew better than to taunt the pirate but he enjoyed it. Murad’s face turned a deep red.

  “You’ll regret those words. I would be a bit more pleasant if I was in your position,” Murad replied.

  “From where I’m standing, it is you who should be on your knees begging me not to put a bullet through your evil heart.”

  “Still the braggart, I see. Come now, Alex.” Murad opened his arms wide. “I am not a man to make foolish mistakes, unlike you.”

  There was not a lot Alex could say to that. He had made mistakes. His biggest mistakes had always been to underestimate the man standing in the boat below him. That is why Murad was not dead already.

  “What is it you want?” Alex asked through gritted teeth, dreading what the reply was going to be.

  “Why, you, my boy. You know I get very displeased when my toys go astray. You are the only one who escaped my clutches. I want you to return with me so that I can make an example of you.”

  Alex threw back his head and laughed. “That doesn’t sound very inviting at all. In fact, I would rather pummel your ship with cannon fire and see it sent to the bottom of the sea, preferably with you in it.”

  Murad’s sly smile sent Alex’s alarm bells ringing. “The fact you haven’t done just that indicates you understand me better than you think.”

  Every muscle in Alex’s body went taut. He studied his nemesis. Murad had aged. A hard, violent life did that to a man. He must have been over fifty years old. He was a big, ugly man. A man you did not wish to meet in a dark alley, or in fact meet anywhere without a pistol—two pistols.

  “You have underestimated me once again, my boy. These islands are my playground. Nothing happens here without my knowledge. I sent some of my men to Pentati a few days ago. By now the delectable Hestia, the lovely woman I never got to properly meet four years ago, is in my hands.”

  Alex heard Jacob curse beside him and wanted to do likewise, but that would please Murad.

  “He’s bluffing.”

  He really wanted to believe Jacob, but what would happen if Murad’s men did have her held captive?

  “I can see the anger in your eyes. I would be angry too if something so precious had slipped through my fingers. I would have been more careful.”

  Alex hissed, and his hand automatically raised the pistol he held as he aimed it at Murad.

  “But you can’t kill me. I know you want to. If I am not delivered safely back to my ship, and sailing back to Bodrum with you as my captive, my men will kill her.”

  Jacob grabbed his arm and whispered, “You can’t go back with him. He is likely to kill you the minute you step on board his ship.”

  “He won’t kill me.” It would be an easy decision for him to go with Murad if he thought that a bullet through his heart was his fate. But he knew Murad would not kill him straightaway. He would want to humiliate him. He would want to show everyone that he
could make the Duke of Bedford do anything he asked. Alex wasn’t afraid of many things, but he was afraid of what the opium he knew Murad would feed him could make him do. Terrible memories of what he’d done while in captivity made his knees weak and bile rise.

  “If he has Hestia, I don’t have any choice. If he’s true to his word and he releases Hestia, it will give you time to collect Hestia and come after Murad’s ship. I’ll have a better chance escaping off his ship than from within his fortress. Just make sure you’re around when I dive overboard.”

  “You can’t seriously be considering going with him. How do you know he’s even got Hestia, and if he has, why would he let her go? We both know the man has no honor.”

  Alex sighed. “I can’t take the risk that he’s bluffing.” He turned to Jacob and put a hand on his shoulder. “If he double-crosses us and doesn’t release Hestia, then you must follow us and we have to escape before Murad reaches Bodrum.” Jacob looked at him and shook his head. “Jacob, listen to me. Make sure the Angelica is no more than half a day behind Murad. It’s my only chance.”

  “As plans go, this is a terrible one,” Jacob said. “He’ll see us.”

  “Not necessarily. The Angelica is faster. Catch up during darkness and drop back during the day.”

  “It’s risky.”

  “Do you have an alternative?”

  Jacob flung his arms up in the air and began pacing backward and forward along the railings.

  A cough from down below alerted them to the fact they were running out of time.

  The two men stood staring at each other, Jacob’s face a mask of pain.

  “I can’t believe he outwitted us again. I’m sorry.”

  Alex pulled Jacob into a rough embrace. “Don’t be sorry; let’s just make sure that I’m not held captive as long as the last time.”

  Jacob pulled out of his hold and nodded. “I won’t let you down. If you can find a way off that ship, I’ll be there.”

  As Alex swung over the side of the Angelica and began to make his way down the ropes to Murad’s boat, he called, “I’m counting on that, my friend.”

  —

  As soon as Alex stepped into the boat, two of Murad’s sailors grabbed him and forced his arms behind his back, tying his hands together with some strips of leather. The cords dug into his skin, but the pain was no match for the agony of seeing Murad’s gloating face.

  Murad laughed in his face before turning away. “This is going to be fun.”

  —

  Although the men were none too gentle, they had not intentionally hurt her. Hestia hadn’t stopped crying since she’d watched a cutlass slice open Ned’s side. Four men had ambushed the boat the minute they passed through the passage. Ned and their boat hadn’t even made it to shore. The slightly bigger boat filled with eight men blocked their way to the shore. One gunshot and Ned had surrendered. He’d tried to protect her, but they simply ran through the men Jacob had sent to protect her, and pushed them overboard into the sea.

  By the way they were dressed, she knew who had sent them. They were Murad’s men.

  Numb with shock, she knew it would be fruitless to put up any kind of resistance.

  The pirates began to row in the opposite direction from the shore. They were taking her back out through the passage into the open sea. For a moment hope rose, for the Angelica was in full sail in front of them, but it was moving away, and it looked as if it was fleeing.

  It did not take Hestia long to see a large second ship. She looked past Fredrick’s schooner and to her horror saw a small rowboat moving toward the pirate ship. She could just make out a man standing with one leg propped up on the side of the boat. She would recognize the turban anywhere. But what caused her to cry out in agony was the man standing between the two pirates at the stern. She would recognize that proud stance, fair hair, and broad shoulders in her dreams.

  Murad had captured Alex.

  Murad had captured her as well.

  For the first time in her life she succumbed to defeat. Her heart wept for Alex. To be captured again was likely worse than death for him. She prayed he didn’t do anything stupid. Her immediate thought was that she’d rather die than become Murad’s plaything, so she could imagine how Alex was feeling.

  But she would survive for Alex. As long as they had each other they still had hope.

  Alex would have a plan. If not, her father would surely come for them.

  By the time the men who held her captive rowed up to Murad’s ship, the Angelica was a black dot on the horizon.

  As one of the pirates threw her over his shoulder, she took one last look around. The sea was the most beautiful color of turquoise. The sky was a lovely light blue and was filled with screeching seabirds. In the distance the island of Corfu looked idyllic. Beautiful. The most beautiful spot she could have imagined. God’s own heaven on earth.

  Yet as she reached the top of the railings and was dumped onto the deck, she understood she was entering hell.

  Chapter 23

  Murad wasted no time beginning his humiliation. Alex was stripped naked and his hands were pulled back behind him and tied to a metal loop attached to the wall in the brig.

  A heavy ball and chain was locked onto one ankle by a sliding pin. The bastard knew he’d sink quickly if he tried to jump overboard with that still attached.

  A mugful of laudanum was forced down his throat. He tried to retch it back up, but the more he did, the more they poured down his throat. He decided it was best to stop, as he was probably drinking more than he was vomiting.

  He wanted to curl up and die, his pride ripped from him as quickly as his clothes. He knew what was coming—he’d endured it before—but he wasn’t sure he could endure it again. If he got a chance, ball and chain or not, he was going over the side.

  But not until he learned of Hestia’s fate.

  The unknown was about to push him over the edge. Had Murad let her go as he’d promised?

  The laudanum began to work. He was tired from over twenty-four hours of no sleep. The pain of his bonds fell away, his body relaxed, and his knees began to give way. He slumped forward to his knees, his arms stretched out behind him to the point he thought his shoulders might pop, but still no pain.

  That’s why he used to crave the opium pipe or liquid. He could lose himself in a world where Murad and evil did not exist. But he also lost touch with reality, and the more he took, the more he wanted. To the point where he would do anything Murad asked of him simply to get his hands on more opium.

  It wasn’t until after he’d escaped and then been rescued by Costa that Alex had understood what Murad had done in order to control him.

  He’d been captured by Murad at the end of the Turkish wars in 1807. He and Stephen had enlisted to anger their fathers. Plus, they wanted an adventure. Neither of them understood how horrendously that decision would affect them.

  He’d stupidly gone off with a local woman for sex and he’d been jumped by men and sold to Murad.

  He’d lived on opium for the two years of his captivity. His introduction to opium had been at Murad’s hands but it had been insidious. Murad had tricked Alex into thinking he was organizing a safe ransom swap for him. Murad had treated him as if he were a visitor rather than a captive.

  Alex had been given a lovely room, fed well, given a woman if he wanted one, and of course introduced to the wonders of opium.

  But what Murad was really doing was keeping Alex oblivious to the fact there would be no ransom swap and all he was doing was turning Alex into a man who craved opium above all else. Above food, drink, sleep, sex, and self-respect.

  As soon as he could not live without the opium, Murad showed his true colors.

  That was seven long years ago and he would not be his plaything again. Not this time. He’d rather die.

  —

  Hestia was hauled from her feet and dragged by her hair along the deck to the passageway. She tried to count the men she saw and find ways to slip quickly over th
e side of the ship if she had a chance.

  Most important, she wished she knew where Alex was being held. Her one hope was that Murad had no idea that she knew Alex was on board. She wanted to make the pirate believe she thought she was alone and at his mercy. Ironically, she told herself, You are all alone. Alex is a prisoner.

  A door off the corridor opened and she was pushed into the room. She landed on her hands and knees.

  “I see you’re already learning the correct position you should be in to greet me.”

  She quickly rose to her feet, her legs shaking beneath her. She decided to remain silent. There was no point aggravating him unnecessarily.

  Murad came to stand before her and she wondered if she would be treated as she had been four years ago. It would be a bit harder to rip her dress and corset.

  “You are even more beautiful than I remember. Alexander always did have exquisite taste in women.” He stroked a finger over her lips, and she fought the urge not to bite it off. “I’m sure he would not offer to share you as he did with Tulay. But then again a few weeks of opium and I can make him do anything I want. I could make him give me permission to behead you and he would not blink an eye.”

  She tried not to give in to her fear by biting her inner cheek so as to not make a sound. From her conversation with David, she understood the power of opium and would refuse to take it.

  “However, a woman of your beauty…it would be a shame to separate your head from such a voluptuous body. A body that will bring me great pleasure and comfort on our journey home to Bodrum.”

  Don’t react. Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing and feeling your fear.

  Instead she focused on the cabin. The far side of the room held a round bunk bed with a voluminous transparent silk canopy overhead. An opium pipe lay on a small ottoman by the bed, and a negligee was draped across the end of the bed.

  “So brave. We shall see how brave you are with me on top of you.”