Addicted to the Duke

by Bronwen Evans

  She closed her eyes and shuddered, grief rising inside her for a young man who had faced such evil.

  Taking a step closer to him, she said, “Can’t you see that the man you were when under the influence of that dreadful drug was not really you? If Murad had to use drugs, it was not your soul or heart or body he controlled. The only way he could get you to do the things he wanted you to do was to distort the person that you were into somebody else.”

  A long stretch of silence enshrouded them, filled only by the rustling leaves, until finally he said, “Do you understand the things I did with Murad? I’m damaged, perverse, disgusting—”

  “Not to me,” Hestia said, interrupting. “Never to me.” A tear tracked down her cheek.

  “Many think I’m a coward for surviving. Perhaps I am.”

  “I think you’re the bravest man I’ve ever known. I might have been naïve before, but not any longer. I don’t care what Murad did to you.” Hestia moved in front of him and reached up to press a kiss to his cheek. “All I see is a man strong enough, and brave enough, to survive. The man I love. Can you love me in return? That’s all I’m interested in.”

  “My darling Hestia. How could I not love you? You are brave and selfless. Your love is precious and I want to be with you so much.”

  Hestia slid her fingers through his and held his hand. “So I sail home on the Angelica with you?”

  “I’ll hurt any man who tries to stop me taking you home to England.” He gazed down at her with eyes as sea green as the seas they would cross on their way home. “Home to a life together. You could have any man you want. I still can’t believe that you want this damaged heart and blackened soul. But you have taught me that it’s harder to love somebody than walk away from them, and I want you in my life more than I want my next breath.”

  She threw her arms around his neck. “When I was sixteen you saved me from a life like those poor women on Murad’s ship experienced. I gave you my heart then and there, but you were too broken to know what to do with it. So on this journey I got to return the favor. I saved you right back.”

  “That you did, and I’m the luckiest man in the world.” Alex closed his eyes at the truth in her words. “I didn’t know if I was capable of loving anyone. During the last few weeks I realized what I was truly feeling—that my need to be with you, to keep you for myself, was love, strong and steady. The greatest healer in the world.”

  He pulled her tight against him. “You’re mine. I’m not letting you go ever again. My heart skips a beat whenever I see you.” He placed his hand over where their hearts lay chest to breast, letting her feel the rush of emotions he was finally free to share.

  “Hestia,” Alex whispered in an aching voice as he pressed his lips to hers, holding nothing back as he gathered her tight against his body, his arms encircling her.

  She pressed her body against his, wanting to be closer.

  He briefly broke the kiss to ask, “Will you marry me, my darling girl?”

  “Of course, my handsome man.”

  Love, more powerful than any hate, revenge, or evil. Their love had the power to heal anything they might face. Together they would protect each other from the evils of the world and ensure no one stopped them living a life full of happiness and joy.

  —

  Alex and Hestia went to talk to her father just before dinner.

  The reunion with her father when the Angelica reached Corfu Town had been a tearful one. Hestia was surprised at the depth of her father’s emotions. He’d held her so tightly she thought she might faint from lack of air.

  If he loved her so much, why did he spend so much time away from home?

  Now, a few days later, as she was about to knock on the study door with Alex by her side, she wondered what reception they would get. Her father had been given a room to use during his stay and it was filled with his books on ancient Greece and some of his treasures. His face burst into a smile as she entered, which dimmed upon seeing Alex behind her.

  When Alex entered the room the warm humid air suddenly became very chilly. Hestia tried to understand how the earl could look upon Alex as a son, but where she was concerned he treated Alex as a pariah.

  It was the first meeting between the two men since they’d arrived and Hestia was determined to play peacemaker.

  “Why on earth did you bring her to Greece?” Lord Pembroke asked. “Of all the irresponsible things to do. The danger—can you not remember what happened four years ago?”

  Hestia stepped near her father, laying her hand on his arm, and said, “That is not fair, Father. We came because you were in danger. If Alex had not—”

  “I can speak for myself, thank you, Hestia,” Alex interrupted. He approached her father. “Because you left your daughter in Wales, unprotected as usual, not caring what happened to her, I had to bring her with me. There was no one in England able to protect her. I was concerned that Fredrick would see your daughter as another obstacle to his wealth. After all, his devious plan to declare you dead and gain your title was worthless without your money.”

  “Ah yes, my money goes to Hestia.” Lord Pembroke merely stared at Alex for a few moments before finally nodding his head. He turned away from Alex and addressed his daughter once more. “At least you’re safe now. My ship is being provisioned for the journey home to England as we speak. We leave tomorrow on the morning tide.”

  She looked at Alex, waiting for him to say something. Willing him to say something. She would sail on the Angelica—with Alex. When he remained silent she spoke up. “I am sailing home with Alex.”

  Her father’s face turned a mottled purple. Alex was a duke, for goodness’ sake. What father would object to such a marriage? She understood her father might be worried about his use of opium, but that was years ago, and he had his drug usage under control.

  Alex cleared his throat, and still staring at her father he finally spoke. “Your father and I have a few things to discuss. Why don’t you go and converse with Stephen, keep him out of trouble.”

  She looked between the two men. The two men she loved. She knew they had a history. It was her father who had found where Alex was being held captive. He had passed that information on to Jacob and also shown Jacob how to attack the fortress.

  Her father had first seen Alex on one of his trading jaunts. The earl had often traded with Murad. The pirate was quite happy to receive payment for allowing her father to excavate on the islands around the Turkish coast.

  “Fine. I shall leave you two gentlemen to discuss whatever it is you don’t want me to hear. But I warn you I won’t stand for the two of you being at odds. I expect to see both of you at dinner.”

  As she left the room you could hear a pin drop, neither of the men confirming her request for dinner.

  —

  As the door closed, the earl moved to pour them both a brandy. “God damn it, Alex. You gave me your word. Your word. You promised me you would leave her alone. I want to run you through, or at least challenge you to a duel, and if I were twenty years younger I would.”

  Pembroke’s words made the brandy he swallowed taste like pig’s swill. He had given his word. But that was four long years ago. He was a different man today.

  “Nothing to say? You are not going to tell me you’ve changed? That opium no longer dictates your life, or that the nightmares chasing you have disappeared?”

  The earl knew what the two years in captivity had cost Alex. He understood well what Murad had done to him, and Alex suspected this was the reason Pembroke objected so strenuously to a marriage with Hestia. The opium usage was just an excuse.

  “Hestia will become my duchess. She makes my life better. She chases away the nightmares.”

  The earl thumped his hand on the table. “I won’t allow it. She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know what Murad did to you. The perversities…”

  Alex swallowed the rest of his brandy and put the glass down on the table that stood between them. “She might not have known bef
ore we left London, but I’m pretty sure she has a good idea now.”

  “You told her?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then how could she know?” At Alex’s silence, the earl’s eyes widened. “When he held you both captive?”

  Alex nodded.

  “And she still wants to marry you?”

  If the earl wanted to make Alex feel like a bit of dirt under his boot, that question was the best way to do so. Murad had stripped him of any pride years ago; the earl should have known that better than anyone. Having to have this conversation was exactly what made the opium such sweet release.

  “This has never been about my opium habit, has it? This is about your disgust about what Murad did to me—with me. For Christ’s sake, I was his captive. What did you expect me to do? Would you have preferred me to have given up and died?”

  The look on the earl’s face said that was exactly what he would have expected Alex to do. “I don’t know how you can live with what he did to you. It’s an abomination. Unless, of course…you enjoyed it.”

  Alex had to clench his fists at his sides to stop him smashing one of them, or both of them, into the earl’s face. “It is only because you are her father that I don’t call you out—elderly or not.”

  If the earl wanted to drive a wedge between him and Hestia, then he would be in for a fight. He should have had this discussion with her father years ago, but he’d thought like the earl that no woman could love him when she learned the perversions he’d been subjected to. He’d underestimated Hestia back then; he would not do so again.

  “Why do you think I took the opium? You have no idea how, every day, I battled to find a reason to live—to survive. The biggest reason of all, the one that saw me endure more than any man should have to, was that one day I would see Murad dead.”

  “Some indignities should not be survived. Any man of honor would never have let himself be used like that.”

  Alex briefly closed his eyes and fought to rein in his temper. This bigoted man was to become his father-in-law. He took a deep breath and blew out through his nose.

  “Your daughter is an amazing woman. She has a heart big enough to encompass the world. Do you know what she sees when she looks at me? She sees a man, a flawed man, but a man who has endured and overcome evil. A man who has seen and experienced such horrors she cannot comprehend how anyone could treat a person so. She’s proud that I lived to escape. She doesn’t care how I managed that, only that I did. Because she loves me. And do you want to know something else? I’d go through it all again, I’d endure the perversities again, and fight to survive, if it meant she was waiting for me, to heal me with her touch, her kiss, her love.”

  Pembroke had the grace to look embarrassed.

  “I let you push me away four years ago because I knew. I knew even then it was not the opium you objected to, and I also thought myself unworthy. I thought I could not be cleansed until I killed Murad. I was wrong. Killing doesn’t cleanse, loving does.”

  He walked to the door. “I’m going to marry your daughter, if she’ll have me, and nothing you say or do will stop me. You can either be a part of our lives or not. Given you’ve not seemed to care a jot about your daughter’s life the past four years, I wonder why you object so much.”

  “What if the truth comes out? What if people learn what happened to you? The disgrace…Hestia will be…”

  Alex gave him a wry smile. “You think people talking about what Murad may have or may not have done to me is worse than actually having it done? You are pathetic. I’ve endured far worse than gossip, and so has your daughter.” He opened the door. “You have until dinner to decide if you will be a part of our lives or not.” Then he walked out with his head held high and his pride firmly in place.

  —

  Dinner was strained but polite, but Hestia’s stomach kept churning. She wanted her father’s blessing for her marriage to Alex, but she would marry without it if it came to that.

  Alex told her he’d given her father an ultimatum, but it wasn’t until after dinner when everyone was in the drawing room that she got her answer.

  The earl cleared his throat. “May I please have everyone’s attention?” The lord high commissioner, his wife, visiting guests, and Stephen and Alex stopped talking.

  “It is with pleasure and great pride that I announce the betrothal of my daughter, Lady Hestia Cary, to Alexander Sylvester Bracken, the Duke of Bedford.” His voice shook with heartfelt emotion. “I wish them joy and happiness in their life together. I’ve been a fool for too long, not recognizing how perfect they are for each other.”

  There was much hullabaloo and congratulations that followed the announcement. Champagne was drunk and Hestia’s heart almost burst when Alex went forward to shake her father’s hand. The earl instead pulled him into a hug and she heard him say, “I’m sorry, my boy. It seems my daughter taught us both the lesson of unconditional love.”

  Alex flashed her a look so filled with love. “She is indeed a special woman. My special woman.”

  Epilogue

  BEDFORDSHIRE, TWO YEARS LATER

  Dawn was breaking as Hestia opened her eyes. Tiredness weighed heavy on her bones, but it was a very contented lethargy. Alex had come to bed late last night; one of the tenants’ homes had caught fire and all the men were needed to help control the blaze.

  On his return around four in the morning he’d stunk of smoke, so she’d had a bath drawn and helped him bathe, knowing his aversion to dirt. Alex still could not stand any reminders of his time in captivity and cleanliness was an obsession with him.

  She smiled at the memory of his bath. He’d pulled her into the tub with him and more water ended up on the floor than was in the tub, as he showed her how much he still desired her.

  She rolled onto her back and took the time to thank God for the life she had. She loved Alex and his family. His younger brothers and sister had welcomed her into their home, and his mother—how she loved the dowager duchess—well, she reminded Hestia of her mother.

  A rush of love washed over her. Now she had a family of her own. Little Christopher, the new Marquess of Tavistock, heir to the Duke of Bedford, was six months old, and he looked so much like Alex that it brought a tear to Alex’s mother’s eye. She couldn’t wait to have more children, and even if they couldn’t, she was content.

  “What are you looking so smug about? I think you are remembering our bath in the early-morning hours. I’m more than happy to repeat the exercise and pleasure you all morning if it keeps that look on your face,” Alex said, his husky words followed by a hand caressing her side from breast to hip and back again.

  She rolled to face him. “I was thinking of our son and how lucky we are.”

  “I’m lucky for sure. You saved me from a living hell. I thank God every day that I have you and Christopher. I never thought I could father a child. It’s you and your love, I’m positive of that.”

  She rewarded such gallantry by pressing her mouth and naked body to his.

  It took mere seconds to fan the flames of a simple kiss into something hotter. On a deep groan of need he pressed his hardening manhood into her stomach, as though it had been an eternity since he’d lain with her, when it was mere hours ago. He had a way of making her feel cherished and loved, something she thought he’d never be able to express.

  They say time heals all wounds, but she knew it wasn’t time—it was love. Her love and the love of their innocent, beautiful baby boy. Alex’s nightmares were few and far between now, and laudanum was banned from the house unless absolutely necessary.

  She opened her legs to welcome him when a banging came on the bedchamber door.

  “Don’t you dare move, my darling, I’ll tell them to go away.”

  For a minute fear invaded the safe haven of their bedchamber; she always worried about her baby.

  But it was Alex’s younger brother, Harris, not the wet nurse.

  “What is it, Harris? Has the blaze reignited?” Alex
called.

  Harris poked his head round the corner of the door. Hestia could smell him from their bed. He was still dressed from last night, his clothes covered in soot.

  “No, I remained until dawn to check they managed to ensure the fire stayed doused. Sorry to disturb, but the Marquis of Clevedon is downstairs.”

  “Stephen’s here? Show him to the library and tell him I’ll be down in a while. I have a wife who needs some loving.”

  Harris’s face turned crimson.

  “Stop teasing the boy. It must be urgent for Stephen to arrive at this hour.” Hestia pulled the sheet up to ensure she was covered. Never having had siblings, she could never get used to how the Bracken family were so relaxed about dress in front of each other.

  “Um, more than urgent. He’s been shot. I’ve already called for the doctor. I found him on the ride home, lying in a lane near Miller Pond.”

  In a flash Alex was out of bed and pulling on a robe.

  Hestia had only met Stephen a few times, but she had recognized a wounded soul when she saw one.

  He was the consummate rake. The marquis was wealthy and as handsome as sin, his dark hair and dark brown eyes only adding to his striking countenance. Tall and broad shouldered, he commanded any room he entered. The women of the ton adored him, but Hestia with her experience of troubled souls could see that beneath his bravado he was a lonely and troubled man.

  It appeared trouble had caught up to him.

  As the brothers left to attend to Stephen, she rose to go to Christopher, but she wondered what devil was driving the Marquis of Clevedon.

  For anyone who fights addiction. May you find the power of love and understanding.