Andrea Kane (32 page)

“You never answered my question.” His breath was warm against her lips.

“I don’t know the answer to the question, Drake. I don’t even know who my husband is.”

“Don’t you?” he murmured, then claimed her mouth in a kiss that made her knees buckle. He held her chin in place and fit their mouths together the same way he had fitted their bodies together last night. Alex moaned, closing her eyes. The kiss continued, on and on, until Alex thought she would faint.

When he drew back, she heard herself whimper a protest.

Drake chuckled. “That is the most delightful invitation I have ever received, princess. Unfortunately this is not the time.”

Cold reality struck Alex in the face, and her eyes flew open in shock. Oh, what was it he did to her that only succeeded in confusing her more, making the important seem unimportant and bringing back the fantasy that she knew to be a lie? And how could she allow it when he had made a mockery of all they’d shared?

Damn him to hell, but she loved him.

“Forgive me,
your grace.”
Ice dripped from her every word. “I realize that you have a great deal to do on your palatial estate. I won’t keep you.” She marched off.

He came up behind her, drew her back against his body.

“Feel what you do to me,” he murmured in a husky voice. “Does that strike you as the reaction of a man who would prefer anything else to being with you?”

Alex felt her bones melt.

He pressed his lips into her hair. “I have a funeral to see to. And while you and I might view the elaborate display as distasteful, it is my obligation to see that it is done. My father was a very successful and wealthy nobleman, and no doubt the church procession will be endless. No matter how much we rebel against protocol, you and I both know what our obligations are, don’t we?”

Alex felt utterly ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just have so much to sort out in my mind.”

“I know.” He held her to him for one more minute. “And we have to talk.”

She shook her head. “I’m not ready, Drake. I need time.”

Drake gave a deep sigh. “I know you do.”

She drew herself up, out of the circle of his arms. “I’ll be at the house,” she told him without looking back.

He watched her go, a curious mixture of tenderness, pain, and hope stirring inside him. She had lashed out at him, shown him her anger. That was a good sign, a sign that she was recovering from the shock. Soon they would talk. But what could he tell her? He
had
deceived her, though not intentionally; he had kept the truth hidden from her. How. could he convince her that nothing else had been a lie?

He rubbed his eyes, feeling weary. His tenuous relationship with Alexandria was but one part of his torment. Besides the dilemma with his wife, how the hell was he going to adjust to his new role, to cope with the awesome task of being the Duke of Allonshire, being tied to the land and the life?

How could he cope, with anything, if he lost Alex?

Alex approached the Gothic mansion, her heart still pounding from the moments she had just spent with her enigmatic husband. Her head throbbed from too little sleep and too much tension. Her gown was filthy and needed to be changed … but not quite yet.

Just off the main hall was a large circular conservatory that seemed to beckon Alex. She went in, closing the door carefully behind her. Like all of Allonshire, it was unique, its high domed ceiling covered with branches of lavender blossoms, its graceful stone steps leading down into a veritable paradise of nature. Alex felt the room’s peace stroke her raw senses, and she strolled contentedly about, deeply inhaling the wonderful floral fragrance.

“A lovely setting for a lovelier woman.”

Alex started and turned to see Sebastian standing near the conservatory door. He smiled at her and strolled inside, his dark eyebrows raised questioningly.

“May I join you?”

A warning bell sounded immediately in Alex’s head. “Actually I was about to return to my chambers. As you can see”—she pointed to her gown—“I am a bit of a mess right now.”

Sebastian approached her, glanced at her gown, and shrugged indulgently. “It does nothing to detract from your beauty, I assure you.”

“It is not my beauty I am considering,” she responded quickly, feeling anger at his lavish compliment. Did he think her so shallow that she would blush and simper over such transparent nonsense? “I am hardly paying the appropriate respect due your father in soiled clothing.”

Sebastian looked surprised by her sharp response. It occurred to him that he should not underestimate his brother’s new wife. Drake would never have married a bland, empty-headed woman. All the more interesting.

“I apologize,” he said smoothly. “It is just that I am accustomed to ladies who prefer flattery to substantial conversation.”

“Then perhaps you associate with the wrong type of ladies,” Alex suggested.

Sebastian gave a hearty laugh. “Perhaps I do.”

Alex studied Drake’s brother carefully. Yes, she could see a resemblance. Sebastian was not as tall or as broad-shouldered as Drake, but he had the same hard good looks. He was leaner than Drake, whose body was muscular and powerful, conditioned by months at sea. Also, their eyes were different. Not just the color, either. Sebastian had his father’s blue eyes, but with none of the compassion and depth that Alex had seen in Grayson’s eyes before he died. Sebastian’s eyes were pale and cold, and despite his charming manner, Alex felt chilled and uneasy.

“Drake is a very lucky man,” Sebastian said, watching her reaction.

“Yes, he is. Allonshire is a unique home.”

“I wasn’t speaking of Allonshire.”

“He also has many people who care for him.” Alex gave, him a challenging look.

“And a breathtakingly beautiful, very loyal wife,” Sebastian added lightly.

“We are both lucky.” She’d be damned if she would give Sebastian the satisfaction of being privy to her torment.

“I agree. Especially since you came so close to death, but managed to escape it.” He gave her a casual yet curious look. “I never did actually hear the details of your heroic survival. What did happen? We received word that
La Belle Illusion
had been attacked and destroyed, that there were no survivors.”

Alex felt somewhat relieved that they were on a safer, less personal subject.

She nodded. “Your information was correct, for the most part. We were attacked, and
La Belle
was destroyed, just after we left Lake Ontario. Fortunately Drake’s quick thinking resulted in a total evacuation of the ship without any loss of life.”

“I see.” Sebastian looked thoughtful. “Was the American ship that far superior to
La Belle Illusion,
then?”

“Yes … and no.” Alex chewed her lip thoughtfully. “The enemy ship was much larger and with a good deal more firepower, but for some reason our cannons were unable to span the distance between us.” She shrugged. “I suppose the wind was against us and we were unable to get close enough.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“I feel dreadful about
La Belle Illusion.
I know how much Drake loved that ship.”

“It was only a ship, Alexandria.” Sebastian sounded amused. “And ships cannot keep you warm at night.”

Again Alex was annoyed by the flippancy of his response. “I really do have to change.”

He stopped her with his hand on her arm. “Does Drake?”

She stared up at him. “Does Drake … what?”

“Keep you warm at night.”

Furious color stained Alex’s cheeks. “Kindly take your hand off my arm and allow me to pass,” she managed. “I have no intention of answering such a question!”

His gaze swept over her again before he released her. Her features were flawless, her body a man’s dream. She was intelligent and witty, and she had fire, as well. He could just imagine her in bed …
his
bed.

“Because if he doesn’t, or if you ever choose not to let him, I would like nothing better than—”

Alex jerked her arm away, lifted her skirts, and practically flew up the steps to the conservatory door. She faced him again, her hand on the door.

“Sebastian, you are my husband’s brother. For that reason I am going to forget we had this conversation. But I suggest that you remember this. I am married to Drake, and I would do nothing to dishonor or hurt him in any way.” She slammed the door behind her.

Sebastian grinned as the sound echoed throughout the cavernous room. She was even more passionate than he had dared to hope. Acquiring her would be a challenge worth savoring.

Well, Drake,
he thought with a smug smile.
Father is gone. With better luck and more skillful planning, you will soon follow. And then, my dear brother, all of this will be mine.

Your title. Your home.

Your wife.

Death pervaded the air.

The choir was still as the dignified bishop concluded the service. Alex shuddered, raising her head to look around. She had not been prepared for the swarms of nobility who had arrived at the majestic church, filling it to capacity.

Soon the mourning coaches would depart from the service, carrying Grayson Barrett to the family cemetery at Allonshire, where he would be laid to rest beside his wife. At that moment life felt very fragile and precious to Alex, her own mortality very real.

Drake had been strong throughout the ordeal of the day. Samantha leaned against his other side, clenching her handkerchief, fighting for the control that she had been taught to manifest to the world. Sebastian remained expressionless beside her, his pale eyes roving restlessly about the room, as though memorizing the list of those in attendance.

Alex saw the pain of loss reflected on Drake’s face, and instinctively she stepped closer to him. In response, and to her surprise, she felt his fingers close around hers, squeezing gently. She realized that he was merely expressing his gratitude for her presence and her strength, and yet she was filled with such a sudden wealth of emotion that she had to blink back her tears. She felt a cold draft against the bare flesh of her palm as he gently disengaged his hand a moment later, when it was time to leave the church.

Holding Samantha’s arm, he turned to Alex.

“Come, love,” he said softly. “It is time to go.”

Alex nodded, the ache inside her heart unbearable. She had a sudden, childish, desperate yearning to have things as they had been but a week ago, when Drake had been hers; to negate the past few days and be whole again.

She dropped her gaze to the floor. It was impossible.

Numbly she stood outside the church, watching the mourners depart, lost in thought.

“Alexandria.” The voice was as familiar as it was startling.

“Mother?” Alex turned in amazement to stare at the dazzlingly beautiful golden-haired woman she had dreaded confronting and who now beamed down at Alex as though she were a small child that had done a most commendable deed.

Constance Cassel pressed her smooth cheek against Alex’s, careful not to muss her own exquisitely arranged hair in the process.

“I’m so very happy for you,” she murmured, as though they were close friends sharing a wonderful confidence.

“So very happy that a man is dead?” Alex was speechless with shock.

Constance raised her fair brows in amused reaction. “Of course not, love. Happy that you have found such a perfect husband.”

Alex wondered if a scandal would result from the Duchess of Allonshire’s sudden emptying of her stomach on the church steps.

Constance continued. “Of course I was a bit piqued when I discovered you had gone off to York, but when your father wrote and told me the circumstances—that you had wed Drake Barrett—well, that made things quite different.” She beamed. “I suppose even your first London Season paled in comparison to marriage to the most sought-after man in the
ton.”
She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I just wish you had confided in me. I, of all people, would have understood.”

“Mother”—Alex had heard enough—“I don’t know what Father told you, but—”

“Countess?” Drake’s sudden appearance at Alex’s side cut off her admonishment. He was all magnificent masculinity and charm as he kissed Alex’s mother’s hand. He was a damned duke.

“Hello, your grace,” she addressed him in return. “I am so terribly sorry about your father,” she crooned.

I’ll just bet you are, Mother,
Alex fumed inwardly,
I wonder how many of your friends you’ve already regaled with tales of your daughter, the duchess.

“Thank you, Countess. And please call me Drake. After all, we are family now.” His smile would have melted one of Greenland’s icebergs.

Constance simpered prettily. “Thank you, Drake. And may I tell you how thrilled I am about you and Alexandria? I was just telling her how lucky she was that you found each other.”

That did it. Alex was going to choke her.

“I am the lucky one.” Drake’s restraining hand stopped Alex in her tracks. “Your daughter is a rare and precious gift. You should be very proud of her.”

Alex looked up at him with startled surprise, realizing what he was doing. He hadn’t forgotten their conversations about her mother, and he was reminding the older woman of Alex’s virtues.

“Oh, I am,” Lady Sudsbury assured him. “Terribly proud. I hope that all I have taught her over the years will contribute to her being a suitable wife to you and mistress of Allonshire.”

“Oh, Alexandria’s assets were obvious right from the start,” he drawled back. “I never doubted that she would satisfy
all
of my requirements.”

Constance beamed. “I am delighted to hear that.” Remembering where she was, she lifted the edge of her black gown and dropped her eyes. “I will take my leave now, for this is not the time for joy. Please accept my condolences on the part of my husband and myself. Your father was a fine man.”

“Yes, he was.” Drake gave her a tight smile. “And I thank you for your understanding. Perhaps, when our mourning period is at an end, you will be our guest at Allonshire for a few days?”

“It will be my pleasure.” Always aware of the right time to make her exit, Constance turned to embrace a rigid Alex again. “He is smitten,” she whispered in Alex’s ear. “Now all you need to do is provide him with a son and he will give you the world.” She stepped back. “Good-bye, darling,” she said with the right amount of emotion in her voice. After all, one never knew who was watching, now, did one?