Cranville wasn’t a difficult patient. He drank hot broths
and submitted to cold compresses, but the congestion seemed to settle in his
chest.
When Alex came in one evening during the second week of
their voyage to discover Everett fevered and barely conscious, he sought Evelyn
and Amanda. “The brazier isn’t enough when he lies against the cold damp of the
bulkhead. We have to move him.”
Evelyn knew instantly what he meant. They had scarcely
shared the wide double bed in the captain’s cabin since those first nights.
Alex had contrived to sleep only when she wasn’t there or simply napped in the
hammock in the earl’s cabin. He had done everything humanly possible to keep
their agreement. The possibility that the earl might die on this voyage made it
imperative that he do so. She was not a fitting countess in her mind, and
obviously Alex had come to the same conclusion.
“Let us move him to our cabin, Alex. We can nurse him better
there in any case, and he will be away from the worst of the damp.”
He winced but did not argue at this surrendering of their
marriage bed, confirming her fears.
The earl was too ill to protest the transfer. When he was
conscious, he consumed as much liquid as his racking coughs allowed, but he
spent most of his time in a semiconscious state. Alex paced the decks when he
was not at his cousin’s side. He disliked helplessness. His only relief was
Evelyn’s new cooperativeness. Instead of opposing him at every turn, she stood
beside him and together they worked to keep the shadows of death at bay.
Healing the sick diverted the energies they had once devoted to the passion
that had brought them together.
Still, Alex disliked stepping from the sickroom for a breath
of air to find Evelyn entertaining the glib lawyer. The weariness and worry
that lined her face when they worked together over the earl’s bed disappeared
when she was with Henderson. She spoke easily with him, laughing and nodding in
agreement to his lighthearted chatter. Alex was jealous of their ability to
converse with such ease when all his conversations with his wife were conducted
under a strain. He wished the lawyer to the devil and imagined ways of shoving
him overboard.
Instead, he donned his cloak and strode to the deck.
***
With a sinking heart, Evelyn heard Alex leave the main cabin.
She had thought to stir his jealousy with Thomas’ attentions, but Alex’s
hardened heart couldn’t be stirred by anything she did. Even though she had
reconciled herself to the annulment for his sake, she had quit fooling herself
long ago that she desired any such thing.
Her arms felt empty knowing they would never feel Alex’s
embrace again. She knew now that she did not bear his child, and that brought
hot tears to her eyes.
“Has he ever told you the names of the smugglers his
investigation uncovered?” Henderson asked idly, throwing a card down on his
solitaire game.
Evelyn shook her head numbly in reply. Perhaps she ought to
relieve her mother of nursing duty for a while. It must be her turn by now.
“It seems odd that he would keep such information a secret.
Do you think the evidence might in any way incriminate himself?”
Evelyn gave him a blank look. “Alex would be a trifle
foolish to investigate himself, wouldn’t he?”
Henderson shrugged. “Perhaps there isn’t any evidence. He’s
just aroused my curiosity. I fully understood him to say he had sufficient
information to free you from all charges. It seems odd that he has not
presented it.”
Evelyn vaguely remembered her own worries on that subject,
but the matter did not seem so pressing as before. She watched the passageway
for some sign of Alex’s return. “It scarcely matters now, does it?”
Thomas glanced at her with surprise. “You could very well be
a countess before long. If this smuggling scandal comes to light and others
know the details, you could be blackmailed to keep it quiet. I should think it
would be in your best interest to destroy anything connected with the scandal,
or at least give me the information to protect you. That packet could be
essential to your defense.”
Evelyn frowned. Could the contents of that packet be used
against her? Surely Alex would not do that. The annulment would be sufficient
to buy his freedom.
Shaking her head, she dismissed the subject, but her
curiosity was whetted. What could Alex hope to do by keeping the evidence
secret? He had called it explosive material. She didn’t like the sound of that
at all.
By the end of November, with the worst of the journey behind
them, the earl was no better. Alex found that a brandy bottle eased the anxious
hours at his cousin’s bedside. Everett regained consciousness occasionally to
frown at his heir’s occupation, but fortunately, he lacked the strength to
scold.
“Where’s Evelyn?”
Startled from his reveries by this croak from the bed, Alex
set aside his glass and checked the compress on his cousin’s forehead. “Sleeping.
It is that time of night.”
“You should be sleeping with her. It is your responsibility
to produce heirs now. Or can you tell me there is one already on the way?”
Alex knew there was not. His one single flickering hope had
been doused when he came upon his wife washing out the cloths proving their
coupling had borne no fruit.
“Produce your own heirs, Everett. That ought to be incentive
enough to get you out of this bed. I have no need of a weeping plump wife and
sniveling brats to entertain me,” he said callously as he helped his cousin to sit
up and drink from the cup at his bedside.
“Deirdre might be a trifle annoyed should I try.” The earl
took a drink, coughed, and leaned back upon the pillows. “She is past
childbearing age, and well you know it. The title and the responsibility will
be yours. You cannot have one without the other.”
“You never seemed overly concerned about the matter. It took
you how many years to come back to see if the estate still existed?” Alex wasn’t
certain what made him taunt his cousin, but he regretted it instantly.
Cranville suddenly appeared older and grayer as his thoughts turned to those
lost years.
“Divided loyalties make life difficult. You do not have that
problem. You have a lovely wife and the entire future ahead of you. Make the
best of it, Alex. Someday you will be old like me. Make your memories pleasant
ones.”
There was deep sorrow in his voice, and Alex had to turn his
head away to hide the wetness in his eyes. Cranville had been lost from his
home and family for twenty years by a twist of fate that married him to one
woman while the one he loved bore his child half a world away. Not until both
women were dead did he learn of his daughter Alyson or know that he was heir to
an earldom. The loss of so many loved ones and so much time grieved the earl,
although he seldom spoke of it. Alex wondered how his own life might have
turned out had his cousin been there to claim his estates all along. There was
no point in speculation, but he liked to think they might have been friends.
The earl slept again, leaving Alex to his brandy and his own
morose thoughts. The title meant very little to him, but after Everett, he was
the last of the Hamptons. If nothing else, he had a responsibility to the
people on the estate. The lands would be forfeited to the crown if he died
without heirs.
The weight of responsibility sat uneasily on his shoulders.
He had thought he had chosen Evelyn out of lust more than anything else, but as
he considered his marriage, he realized he had chosen a woman with the strength
to stand by his side and share this burden. He needed her a great deal more
than he had realized.
And he had given her permission to leave him. Damn, but he
was a bigger fool than he had thought! The one woman in the world who would
stand up to him and call him fool when he needed it, and he would be rid of
her. Why?
Of course they fought. They would probably always fight. But
they were not battles of hatred or lack of respect, but genuine differences of
opinion that could be worked out did they but take the time to try.
They had not fought once since coming aboard because they
worked for a common goal. Evelyn had stood by his side as they changed linens
and fed broth and bathed their semiconscious patient. She had held his hand,
understood his fear, and said nothing when he ignored her, shunned her, and
tried to cut her out of his life. Did she know he could cut off his arm easier
than he could be rid of her? Just imagining a future without Evelyn left him
empty and aching.
When in hell had that happened? He had never needed anybody.
He had learned that lesson long ago, at his darling mother’s knee. Love meant
pain. So perhaps he didn’t love her, but he sure as hell needed her. And he’d
be damned if he would let her go.
Making certain that his cousin slept, Alex left the captain’s
cabin. Knocking at Amanda’s cabin door to signal their change of shifts, he
listened with surprise to voices coming down the corridor and the snapping shut
of a door. Looking across the open main cabin, he saw Henderson just returning
to his room. Suspicion born of long years of hard experience caused Alex to
stalk to the Evelyn’s cabin. He didn’t bother knocking.
The lamp flickered on the washstand, giving him light enough
to note she had just come in from outside. The cramped space of the tiny cabin
scarcely had room for both of them to stand. His gaze scornfully swept over the
cloak she was just discarding and the dinner gown beneath. He had not been able
to keep his eyes off the revealing décolletage of that gown all evening.
Apparently Henderson had not only shared his fascination but also taken
advantage of it.
Alex’s lips turned up in a snarl. “At least you are still
dressed, my dear. I’m surprised you still cling to your Puritan modesty. Haven’t
I taught you that a lover’s caress is much more satisfactory without the
hindrance of clothing?”
At his rude stare, Evelyn yanked the cloak back over her
shoulders. Alex stayed her hand, catching the heavy material and flinging it to
the bunk behind her.
“Have you gone mad? What is wrong? Is it Lord Cranville? Has
something happened to your cousin? Alex, don’t scare me this way. Let me go to
him. He shouldn’t be left alone.” She tried to edge around him, but Alex blocked
the door.
“Everett is sleeping peacefully. Your mother agreed earlier
to look in on him so I could get some rest. Didn’t she tell you? That’s a pity.
Had you known, you might not have risked my wrath by seeing Henderson behind my
back. It’s too late for regrets now, isn’t it?” Dark eyes regarded her
insolently as Alex began to shrug out of his coat.
Evelyn retreated a step until her legs hit the bunk. She
raised a hand to her mouth as she read the fury on his face. “I don’t know what
you’re talking about. Captain Oliver wanted us to see the whales playing in the
moonlight. There is nothing improper in Thomas escorting me to the deck.”
“How often in this last month has he escorted you on deck?
How often have you come back down to be warmed in his embrace? The two of you
always have your heads together. Do you think I am a blind fool? Whatever the
case may be between us, you are still my wife. I will not be cuckolded by a
lying scoundrel like Henderson.”
“Alex!” Horrified by his accusations, Evelyn attempted to
avoid the strong arm whipping out to encircle her waist. “You cannot believe
this of me! What have I ever done to make you think—”
His mouth cut off her words. She caught the rich brocade of
his vest as Alex bent her backward, threatening to unbalance them both when her
knees buckled. His proximity overwhelmed her, and his demanding kiss burned
across her lips until she succumbed to his pressure.
Alex lifted her against him, stealing her breath away with
the demands of tongue and lips until she had no choice but to respond. And respond
she did, whether willingly or no, it did not matter. He wanted her. And she so
desperately wanted him.
The joy of his arms around her again erased all the doubts
and fears, easing the emptiness of these long, lonely weeks. She offered no
protest as he pushed her down against the bed and crushed her beneath his
masculine weight.
“I’ll have you bearing no bastards with my name, madam. If
it is heirs I must have, then they will be my heirs, born of my loins. I have
been a fool before, but no longer. Open for me, my wife, and we shall begin our
dynasty.”
Evelyn smelled the liquor on his breath and knew he labored
under some drunken misapprehension. Had she room to fight him, she might have,
but the bunk was narrow and Alex had all the strength and leverage. There was
nowhere to turn to or flee. She might beat him about the ears for his
obtuseness, but her screams would bring her mother and Jacob and Henderson
running to her door. The embarrassment of such a scene was greater than the humiliation
of his accusation. In truth, she wanted him too much to fight him.
Alex forced her bodice down, and he suckled at her breast while
his roving fingers hiked up her skirt. Evelyn rose eagerly to the hunger of his
mouth and denied the shame as he ripped off her petticoats and cast them to the
floor. She was open to him now, just as he had wanted, and she buried her face
against his wide chest as she felt the heat of desire rise up in her.
He wasn’t long in unfastening his own clothing, nor did he waste
time in preparing her more. Evelyn muffled her cry against his shoulder as he
plunged in, stretching and filling her and then retreating just as she felt she
would surely burst.
In her ear he murmured, “Nine-hundred and ninety-eight,” and
then he plunged again.
She gave in to his haste, to the urgency of her own body,
and wished to scream her frustration at a quick rap on the door. Her mother’s
voice interrupted them.
“Alex! Come quickly! He’s calling for you. Hurry, please.”