Andrea Kane (31 page)

“I can’t. Nothing can …”

“You can. We will.” His hoarse whisper was insistent, speaking of far more than their lovemaking.

“Drake! I need you!” she sobbed.

“And I need you.” He pressed her legs farther apart with his knees, settling himself between them.

“Alex.” He cupped her face, demanding with his hands and his tone that she look at him.

She opened her eyes, and their gazes locked for the first time since he had come to her bed.

“I’m your husband, Alex. Give yourself to me.” And he drove into her with force and despair and an uncontrollable need to have her back.

They moved together in a rhythm that belonged to them. For the moments their bodies were joined nothing existed but the intensity of their union. There was no room for pain or fear or even doubt. There was only the power of his body moving inside hers, the softness of her body closing around his.

They reached the unbearable peak together. Alex tore her mouth from his, cried out in racking pleasure and welcome release. Drake lunged forward onto her and into her, calling her name again and again as he spilled himself deep inside her. Even as he helplessly surrendered to his own painful pleasure, he was acutely aware of his wife. He reveled in her cries of ecstasy, the hard contractions of her body gripping his, the stark beauty of her face in the throes of her release, even the tiny quiverings of her inner muscles in the glorious aftermath of their passion, when their bodies were still as one.

He held her while she slept,, unwilling to let her go, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his chin atop her silky head. A cold dread grew inside him and settled tightly in his chest as he relived the past hour.

Their passion had burned as brightly as ever, yet even as Alex gave herself to him, she had held a part of herself back. Once her passion alone would have been enough for him. But no longer. Having tasted the rare gift of Alex’s love, Drake wasn’t satisfied with her body alone. He wanted it all—her heart, her soul, her trust.

He had had it once. Damn it, he would have it again. But before he could convince himself of that, another sinking realization about tonight’s lovemaking asserted itself in his mind.

Alex hadn’t said she loved him. For the first time in months she had not sobbed out her love for him at the moment of her climax.

He stared down into her face, soft and relaxed now in slumber.

“Please, princess,” he whispered, “don’t give up on me now. For my sake and for yours, not now.” He kissed her forehead gently, praying that her feelings were strong enough to overcome all that stood between them.

Praying that his own newborn trust was strong enough to withstand the wait.

“I
T’S A GLORIOUS DAY
for a walk.” Alex glanced over at Samantha, who stood quietly beside her amid one of the sweeping clusters of oak trees that lined the grounds of Allonshire. Samantha had been silent during the onset of their stroll, but Alex did not fault her. Breakfast had been a somber event, filled with tense silence and the sad knowledge that there was to be a funeral. Alex had felt a protective urge to remove Samantha from the morbid atmosphere as soon as possible. It was painful enough that she had lost her father.

Alex herself had difficulty getting through the meal. She had been unable to meet Drake’s gaze, uncertain of where things stood. And the speculative gleam in Sebastian’s eye, as he looked from Alex to his brother, had only made things worse.

Now, overlooking the vast expanse of greenery stretched before her, Alex took a deep breath and turned to Samantha. “Would you prefer to be by yourself?” she asked, gently touching her arm.

Samantha shook her head. “No, not really. I am so eager to get to know you.” She grinned. “It’s not every day that my brother, the notorious rake, comes home married!” At the pained look on Alex’s face she reached out hastily and touched the sleeve of Alex’s black crepe walking gown. “Alexandria, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that.” She sighed deeply. “I have a dreadful tendency to say all the wrong things. Obviously Drake is very different now.”

Different from what? Alex wanted to ask. But she didn’t.

“I know my brother better than anyone,” Samantha was continuing. “And if he married you, you must be wonderful. It’s just that I never thought he would marry.”

Alex gave her a curious look. “Why not?”

Samantha shrugged. “He doesn’t have a very high regard for women, that’s all.”

“Yes, I know.” Alex bit her lip, willing Samantha to go on.

As if she sensed Alex’s need, Samantha continued. “Women adore him; they always have. And why not? He is titled, he has wealth and power, he is breathtakingly handsome and devastatingly charming.”

“When he wants to be,” Alex modified.

“Yes,” Samantha agreed. “But on the whole he believes women to be inherently faithless. I am the only exception … until now, of course,” she hastened to add.

Alex took the plunge. “He even feels that way about your mother?”

For a long moment Samantha was silent, and then her words were so soft that they were barely audible. “Sometimes I think he feels that way
because
of our mother.”

Alex’s heart began to pound. “For what reason?”

Samantha gave Alex a thoughtful look. “I’m not entirely certain. It’s just a feeling I’ve always had but never expressed. Besides, it doesn’t make any difference. Mother has been dead for almost ten years.”

Alex digested that information carefully. She had already surmised that Drake’s mother was no longer alive, else she would have been with her husband at the end. And as far as Drake’s bitterness being tied somehow to her … that came as no shock either. Alex had long suspected something of the sort.

She had thousands of questions that needed answers, but she would not take advantage of Samantha’s need for company or her closeness to Drake.

Instead, she urged, “It’s your turn, Samantha. You must have many things you want to ask me. I know I would if Drake were my brother.” She waited.

Samantha hesitated, unused to such sensitivity from anyone other than Drake. Unable to resist the gesture of friendship, she gave Alex a grateful smile. “Alexandria, I will try not to pry. If I ask or say anything that offends you, please tell me.”

Alex smiled back. “I doubt that anything you say would offend me, Samantha.”

The younger girl giggled. “Don’t be so certain.” She pointed in the direction of a peaceful, rippling stream just beyond them. “Why don’t we sit for a while?”

Alex nodded. More and more she liked this young girl whose honest, straightforward manner reminded Alex so much of Drake—the Drake she thought she knew.

They settled themselves on the ground, tucking their full, drab skirts beneath them.

“I hate wearing black,” Samantha blurted out. “And I don’t understand the point of it. True mourning takes place here”—she pressed her fingers to her heart—”not in a splendid cathedral for all the world to see.” She turned tear-filled green eyes to Alex. “I told you I say outrageous things,” she whispered.

Alex reached over and took her hand. “Samantha, I wish more people were as genuine as you. There is nothing outrageous about what you said. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Samantha brushed away her tears. “Then you don’t think I’m awful?”

Alex smiled. “Actually, you sound very much like me.”

“You? But you’re so …”

“So … what?”

Samantha looked at her shyly. “Oh … beautiful and feminine and accomplished at all the things that noblewomen are supposed to be. … Why are you laughing?”

“Samantha, if you only knew how wrong you are.” Alex leaned closer. “I’ll tell you a secret. Just this morning Mrs. Haversham, your housekeeper, very primly asked me how her grace would like things to proceed, and all I could do was assure her that things should proceed as they always have. Imagine her surprise if I had told her that her grace had no idea what changes should be made because, instead of observing her mother, the Countess of Sudsbury, all these years, her grace had been out sailing in her skiff!” Alex nodded vigorously at Samantha’s stunned expression. “Would you like to know how Drake and I met?” Alex asked.

“I assumed you met at some elegant ball in York,” Samantha replied.

Alex raised her delicate brows. “Hardly.” And she told Samantha the story of her daring escape to Canada. By the time she had finished describing her first days at sea Samantha was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

“I can just imagine Drake’s reaction,” she gasped between giggles. “Being undone by a female … and on his precious ship, no less!”

Alex chuckled. “We did not exactly have a conventional courtship.”

“Then it’s no wonder he fell in love with you. Drake is a very
un
conventional man.”

Alex grew quiet.

“Alexandria? Is something wrong?”

Alex cursed herself for being so transparent. “The only thing wrong is the way you address me,” she answered lightly. “Please call me Alex.”

Samantha grinned. “Fine, Alex. Then you may call me Sammy. Drake has done so since I was small.”

“Probably for the same reason I’ve always been called Alex.” Alex gave a mock sigh. “By the
ton’s
standards I fear that we acted more like little boys than little girls.”

“And still do,” Samantha agreed.

The sound of joyful barking interrupted their conversation, and seconds later a very muddy Blackbeard exploded onto the scene and promptly threw himself upon his mistress with exuberant pleasure.

Alex tried unsuccessfully to dodge his onslaught. “Down boy, down!” She laughed in spite of herself. “Haven’t you ever heard the word ‘obey’?”

Samantha giggled delightedly. “And who is this?”

“This
is Blackbeard. Drake and I adopted him during our travels. He was floating in the Saint Lawrence, the victim of a naval battle.” She gathered the squirming puppy in her arms and kissed his damp head, heedless of the mud that was transferred from his filthy paws to her prim gown. “I suppose he missed me and came to express his indignation!”

“He is adorable!” Samantha declared.

“And he is quite a sailor as well, aren’t you, Blackbeard?”

The dirty canine barked his assent.

“Alex …” Samantha hesitated. “Would you teach me how to sail?”

Alex’s eyes sparkled. “Of course! Blackbeard and I will both teach you!”

Samantha sprang to her feet in joy. “Oh, thank you!” She pulled Alex up and hugged her, transferring the wet stains from Alex’s dress onto her own. “I’ve always wanted to sail, but Drake is away so much. I know he wants to teach me, but it’s not fair to expect him to spend all his time at home with me, and …” Samantha would probably have gone on for some time longer, had it not been for the questioning baritone voice that interrupted her.

“Are we celebrating something?”

Both women turned at the sound of Drake’s voice. With sudden horror, Alex was aware of how they must look. Their dignified mourning clothes were soiled and disheveled, their joyful behavior was inappropriate.

Before Alex could explain, Samantha had released her and launched herself into Drake’s arms.

“Oh, Drake, guess what? Alex says that she will teach me how to sail! I know we can’t begin yet, but isn’t that wonderful?”

Drake looked at Alex over his sister’s bobbing head. “Yes, Sammy, that is wonderful.” He set Samantha down and snapped his fingers. Instantly Blackbeard was by his side, quiet and composed. “I will contact Barrett Shipping tomorrow.” His words were for Samantha, but his eyes never left Alex. “There is no reason for you to wait. I’ll have a skiff brought to Allonshire at once so that your lessons can begin.”

Samantha looked torn between joy and guilt. “But, Drake, is it right? With Papa …”

“Our father knew how much you loved him,” Drake said softly. “It is not necessary to punish yourself with weeks of grief. We will do what we must and then go quietly on with our lives. He would want it that way.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes. “I know.”

“Sammy, why don’t you take Blackbeard back to the stables? Six frantic grooms and stableboys are combing the grounds for him.”

“I don’t want him in the stables,” Alex broke in quietly. “I want him with me.”

Drake studied her earnest little face, stifling a grin. She looked like a belligerent child rather than a duchess, standing there in her bedraggled gown, with a brown smudge on one cheek. He wanted to lay her down in the scented grass and make love to her.

“Fine” was all he said. “Then he may go to your chambers …
after
he has been bathed.”

Samantha watched the exchange with interest, feeling the electricity that flowed between her brother and his new wife. Then, tactfully and with as much grace as she could muster, she scooped up the wriggling pup and headed for the stables.

“I will see that he is bathed and brought to the house,” she called back.

“Thank you, Sammy,” Alex called after her.

Samantha turned and smiled, a smile of encouragement. “You’re welcome, Alex.”

Once Samantha had gone, Alex looked back at Drake. She knew that her behavior had been inexcusable and was prepared to apologize for it.

“Drake,” she began, “I want you to know—”

“Where were you this morning?” he broke in.

She looked startled. “I told you I was going for a walk with Samantha after breakfast.”

He frowned. “I meant earlier this morning.”

She flushed. “I couldn’t sleep. I—”

“Is it too much to ask that you awaken with me, or do you loathe me so much that you can no longer face me in the morning?”

“Drake … don’t.” She made a move to go past him, but he caught her arm, bringing her up against him. Alex could feel her heart begin to pound wildly, for what reason she did not allow herself to guess. Instead, she stared at his unadorned black mourning cloak.

He lifted her chin with firm fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Thank you,” he said tenderly.

Now she was completely at sea. “For what?”

“For what you are doing for Samantha. She needs someone very badly.”

“She is a very special person,” Alex whispered.