Chapter 18

Hestia’s joy regarding her upcoming nuptials, and the fact she was on land once again, was tempered by the conversation she knew was coming with David.

When they had first sailed toward the Corfu coastline, heading to the fishing village of Pentati, Hestia thought they were sailing straight into the cliffs. But as they drew closer to land she saw a hidden gap in the sheer wall of rock. Unless you knew it was there you’d miss it. Apparently the channel was very deep, but not deep enough for the Angelica to sail through. The ship would remain at anchor. Alex had sent a rowboat through the gap and Costa had met them with one of his smaller ships.

Once they had transferred to Costa’s boat and sailed through the opening, Hestia caught her breath at the beautiful scene.

The protected and almost hidden small bay was surrounded in rock, except for a small sandy beach on the far right. They anchored in the calm, clear blue water in the afternoon, and just before dusk they gathered trunks and rowed ashore.

Costa’s family and friends greeted Alex as if he was the returning messiah. The two men hugged each other for a long moment.

Costa looked to be the same age as Alex, but he was over a head shorter. His face was tanned from the sun, but his dark eyes sparkled when he smiled.

When he looked in Hestia’s direction, Costa gave a surprised second look. Her male clothing obviously didn’t work this close up. He dug Alex in the ribs. “Your crew is much more attractive than usual.”

Alex’s smile disappeared and he shook his head before saying quietly, “Perhaps we should take our conversation inside your abode.” Costa immediately dropped the topic and merely looked at her strangely as he bid them to follow.

They made their way up a white cobblestone path that weaved through a small olive grove. Up ahead was a collection of bright whitewashed cottages, and as they drew close they saw the far terraces were awash with lemon, lime, and fig trees.

Costa led them toward a large house in the center of the village. Hestia had tried not to notice how David’s eyes followed her every move, and she dreaded the conversation she would have to have with him. Over the last few days she’d noticed an almost possessive heat to his gaze.

Costa ensured Ned and the other men of the Angelica who had helped with the luggage were shown to another cottage further along the path.

Finally they arrived at Costa’s residence. Hestia stood to one side as Costa spoke in Greek to the women who were there to welcome them into the home. He issued some commands, and soon she was being shown to her room. She didn’t even have time to say goodbye to Alex or David.

At least she didn’t have to face David tonight.

As soon as the women had escorted Hestia to her room, Costa showed the men into a large room with open doors onto a courtyard, where a cooling breeze thankfully tempered the warm humid air. Costa opened a bottle and poured them a glass of ouzo. Jacob, David, and Alex all took a glass and raised them for a toast. “To our health,” they said, and drank a shot of the anise-flavored liqueur.

“I’m hoping you have good news for me,” Alex said as he paced the room.

Costa and the other men sank into chairs by the open doors.

“The earl is safely ensconced at the home of the British lord high commissioner in Corfu Town. He’s well guarded and is aware of his cousin’s nefarious plans.”

“Bugger. It’s good he’s safe, but Corfu Town is the other side of the island.”

Alex had to agree with Jacob. “What of Murad?” His stomach cramped and he downed the rest of the strong ouzo.

Costa sat forward in his chair. “Rumor has it he has not been well. He’s not been seen near Corfu for over two years.”

“I hope the bastard is suffering,” Jacob muttered.

Costa flashed Jacob a glance and shook his head. “I have my ships’ men out asking questions. So far it does not look as if he is sailing north at all.”

“If he sets sail, how long would we have?” Alex asked.

“A week at best. However, if he is ill, perhaps there is too much infighting among his men as to who will take over leadership of his pirate gang to bother with you. You are not their concern.”

Alex hoped and prayed that was the case. Until he heard Murad was in his grave he was still going after him.

David cleared his throat. “I think I should take Hestia to Corfu Town and back to England with her father.”

Costa raised an eyebrow. “The girl is Lord Pembroke’s daughter?”

“Yes. With her father safe, Murad not in pursuit, then all this is over,” David said.

Jacob slammed his glass on the table. “No. It’s not over. She’s not safe yet. Fredrick will be desperate. He cannot let Hestia or Lord Pembroke reach London and expose his treachery. Fredrick will be at his most dangerous as he begins to panic. Worse, we have no idea what sloop he is on or where it is.”

Alex’s muscles tightened. Jacob was right. Alex needed to marry her before sending her home with Jacob. He had not told Jacob of his plan to send him with her, but he needed her well guarded, and Jacob was the best. His friend would want to sail with Alex after Murad, but he needed to know Hestia was safe so he could concentrate on destroying Murad.

Alex stared at Jacob and David. “Good night, gentlemen. If you don’t mind I would like a private word with Costa.” Jacob frowned and made to protest but Alex uttered, “I’ll speak to you later, but give me a moment.”

David was already on his feet. “I’ll go and ensure that Lady Hestia has settled in.”

Once the two men had left, Costa rose and fetched another bottle of ouzo. “You look like you may need this,” he said as he refilled Alex’s glass. Costa raised his glass. “Yamas,” he said, offering the Greek equivalent of cheers.

“Yamas,” Alex replied before downing the glass in one shot. His eyes watered as he held out his glass to be refilled.

“That bad?” Costa said.

Alex ran a hand over his face. God, he was tired. Tired of wondering what the right thing to do was.

“You have a small church in Pentati? How soon would I be able to marry?”

Costa spluttered. “Married…Ah, to Lady Hestia. You think that should protect her from Fredrick Cary?”

“If she is married her dowry and inheritance are mine. There would be no reason to kill her.”

Costa took another drink and then said, “But it makes her Murad’s target.”

His glass stopped halfway to his mouth and his body started to shake. The look of pity on Costa’s face made his blood run cold. Fool. Stupid bloody fool. If Murad learned he had a wife, and it was Hestia, the woman who got away, she would be his first target.

“I have to get married tomorrow morning and Hestia has to leave for Corfu Town with Jacob immediately.”

“And you’ll still set sail to meet Murad?” At his question Alex turned to Costa and stared him down. “Of course you will. I had hoped the woman had changed your mind about revenge.”

“If Tulay had been your wife, would you let him live?”

Costa sat silent for several seconds, his knee jiggling. “But the relationship you had with Tulay was not what I share with my wife,” he said quietly. “I don’t think what you and Tulay had could be called a traditional marriage in any sense.”

His jaw tightened as memories, blurred and distorted, filled his mind. “We made a pact, Tulay and I. We used each other to survive.”

“Exactly. You survived, and she would not want you to do anything to reverse that.”

“The point is moot now. Once Murad hears of my marriage he’ll come for her. Lady Hestia escaped Murad’s clutches by my hand and Murad will want his revenge. The only way to ensure she escapes is to go to meet him while they sail safely home.”

Costa jumped to his feet. “My God, you’re sending them home on the Angelica. You can’t mean to sail after Murad in one of my ships.” He began pacing. “Is this why you asked to speak to me in private? Jacob will not stand for this ridiculous plan.”

Alex slowly rose to his feet until he towered over Costa. “My plans are not open to discussion. All I wish you to do is arrange for a wedding to occur as soon as possible—tomorrow would be best. The marriage will be recognized in England if the correct papers are issued. When I was convalescing here, a Catholic priest came to read me my last rites. I believe your village has a Catholic priest. Will he marry us if we are not baptized Catholic?”

“No. But you are in luck. There is a visiting English clergyman staying in the village. His sister is married to one of the majors stationed in Corfu Town. They are here on a vacation. Apparently they had been told about the beauty and tranquillity of our bay. I’m sure the priest will allow the use of the church and this clergyman could hold the ceremony.”

That was a coincidence. Alex’s fists slowly uncurled and he took a step back from Costa. “Thank you. Perhaps we could visit him now and get it all sorted.” And he finished his drink.

Hestia lay in a warm tub, her eyes closed as one of Costa’s daughters washed her hair. She listened to the girl’s excited chatter, barely able to understand her thick accent. It sounded as if Paloma was a little infatuated with Alex. What girl wouldn’t be?

It felt fabulous to be on land for a change, even though the floor still pitched and rolled beneath her feet.

She hoped Alex would come to her tonight, but she knew it was unlikely. They were in Costa’s house with his children and they were not married.

Perhaps instead she would find David after her bath and have the dreaded conversation. Her father always said it was better to face distasteful tasks head on.

Half an hour later, freshly bathed and dressed like a woman for a change, she decided to take a stroll in the olive grove before dinner to try and get rid of the feel of the ship still rolling under her feet. The humid starry night called to her spirit, and she took deep breaths. Her feet moved of their own accord and couldn’t help but twirl in the first dress she’d worn in weeks. With arms stretched above her head she skipped along the rows of olive trees humming to herself. When she got to the end of the third row she saw a little bench seat that had a view out over the ocean. The seat was the perfect place to sit and contemplate.

“You should dance more often, it’s such an uplifting sight.”

The unexpected voice made her jump. As she stepped out of the trees she saw David standing to her right. Thank goodness he couldn’t see the shade her face must have gone.

He looked very handsome that night. He was freshly bathed, and his wet hair gleamed. If her heart did not belong to Alex she perhaps could have fallen for the caring surgeon.

She took a deep breath and walked forward to meet him. “The beauty of this place makes me feel like dancing.” She pointed to the bench. “Shall we?”

He waited until she was seated before taking the spot beside her, and for a few seconds they sat in silence. Hestia plucked at the lace edging of her dress.

“Costa has quite the little paradise here, doesn’t he?” she finally said.

“It is a secret haven all right. I’ve sailed these waters a lot over the years, especially during the war, and I did not know it was here until Costa sent for me when he’d first rescued Alex.”

She knew she shouldn’t ask; if she wanted to know more she should ask Alex, but he was hiding darkness and needed help to bring his pain into the light.

“What happened to Alex when he was imprisoned by Murad?”

“Did he not tell you?”

She shook her head. “I do know he loved a woman called Tulay.”

His eyebrows rose. “He has never spoken of Tulay to me.”

“If Costa called for you, he must have been badly injured.”

“He was, but Costa called for Jacob, not me. I simply happened to be on board Jacob’s ship. We had attempted to rescue Alex from Murad, but his pirates outnumbered us, and his many ships had immense power. We barely managed to sail away after we took a pounding under cannon fire. We thought we’d missed our opportunity to stage a rescue and that Alex was lost to us. We did not realize our attack gave him the opportunity to escape until we received the missive from Costa.”

“He was very lucky to have such relentless friends, wasn’t he.”

David barely smiled. “When I first got to this bay, lucky would not be the word I’d use to describe Alex’s situation.”

What could she say to that? Instead, Hestia waited for him to continue.

“His two years with Murad had taken its toll. He’d been treated well, originally, but then Murad had shown his true colors. He was badly beaten and abused during captivity, but those wounds had healed, only scars to show for it. His body was badly emaciated and he looked like a walking skeleton.”

Hestia had seen a couple of scars on his torso but had thought he’d gotten those when fighting the Turks. If he wasn’t covered in wounds, why had he been in such bad shape? “Did he almost die of thirst in the rowboat?”

“Lack of water didn’t help, that’s true, but it was his dependence on opium that almost killed him.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t understand. How did opium hurt him? I thought it was a useful medicine. Didn’t we give him laudanum for his pain, doesn’t that contain opium?”

His fists clenched on his thighs. “The Turks smoke it. They use it for recreational purposes.”

“So it is like tobacco?”

He moved on the seat. “Ah, not exactly. Opium, when it is smoked or ingested, can take you to a happy place. It eases pain, which is why I told you to give him a small amount of laudanum. But if you take more it also fills you with euphoria, makes you feel like nothing in the world is impossible. It’s a kind of dreamland where no one and nothing can hurt you.”

“That sounds nice.”

“To begin with perhaps, but soon it’s more of a nightmare than a dream.” At her look of confusion he added, “A person can come to depend on the feeling opium generates, especially if their world is not a pleasant one.”

“And that is bad because…”

“Because soon a small amount of opium is not enough. Too much can kill you. Besides, you end up wanting more and more, and if you can’t get it you will do almost anything—no, you will do anything to get more opium. That is how Murad controls his captives. He can bend them to his will, make them do things they would never consider doing if they did not crave the opium.”

Hestia’s imagination took flight. What sorts of things would Murad force a man like Alex to do? Her stomach began to tighten and bile rose up her throat. No wonder he had nightmares.

“Worse still, once your body is used to the opium, when you can’t get any more, it begins to break down. Your body suffers terribly. Alex thinks it was me who saved him, but I didn’t even know what I was dealing with or how to help it. It was a miracle, or his stubborn strength, that pulled him through.”

His tone had hardened.

“Why don’t you admire him for his strength?” she asked.

He looked at her. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.”

“It’s because knowing how dangerous taking opium can be, he continues to do so. Nothing I say can stop him. One day he will succumb again. And God help those who are around him at the time.”

Hestia sat back and considered the amounts of laudanum she’d given Alex when David had warned her not to. Now she understood why. However, she could see no change in Alex’s behavior and she was sure he wasn’t taking any laudanum now.

“You know he’s going after Murad?”

She nodded at his question. “I’m beginning to understand why.” Her imagination ran riot thinking of what a man like Murad might have forced Alex to do.

“Yet you’re still going to marry him instead of me?”

She turned to face the man she’d come to think of as her friend. “You told me you wanted to marry for love. That being a younger son gave you that freedom because you were not important. What your family wanted didn’t matter. Your family expected you to marry for money but you wanted more.” She reached for his hand. “It was the same for me. I want the love match my parents never had.”

“I could love you,” he said simply.

“Maybe I could have loved you too, if I had met you first. But my heart belongs to Alex and probably always will. I can’t have you sacrificing your dream of love when I will never be able to make that dream come true.”

“He could die facing Murad, then what? You’ll never remarry?” At her nod he growled deep in his chest. “You’ll live your life alone, a duchess of nothing, childless, with only bittersweet memories? You deserve more than that.”

“He might live,” she said softly, as if voicing the idea would make her wish come true.

“In his condition I think the odds are against him.”

She slowly withdrew her hand at the venom in David’s tone. “We cannot help who we fall in love with.”

He sighed. “Meeting you has taught me that lesson. I never dreamed I’d fall in love with a woman who could not love me back. Arrogance is humbling.” He sat staring into the night, obviously deep in thought. He pulled a flask from his inside jacket pocket. “I need this,” he said, and appeared to take a long swig. He handed it to her. “Shall we drink to our friendship then?”

She hesitated, but seeing the pain in his eyes, she took the flask and brought it to her lips. Before she could drink or react, David’s hand gripped her head and pulled it back, while his other hand forced the flask to her lips and poured the burning fluid down her throat. She tried to push the flask away, choking on the sweet liquid she knew was laudanum. Finally, once the flask was empty he let her go.

She leaned over the side of the bench and retched, trying to bring up as much of the sweet-tasting liquor as possible. “Why, David?” Already her head was feeling heavy and wooziness slipped across her senses.

“Life has also taught me that sometimes, when those you love are not thinking clearly, you have to protect them from themselves.” He pulled her toward him so she lay in his lap. “Don’t fight, sweetheart, sleep. When you wake up you’ll be safe. Safe from Fredrick Cary and Murad and also Alex, the damnable Duke of Bedford.”

The last thing she remembered was his hand gently stroking her face.