Chapter 3

It was close to midnight by the time Alex took his leave. Hestia was exhausted and her aunt was almost dead on her feet. They both needed a good night’s sleep in order to make haste on the morrow.

As Hestia helped her aunt up the stairs, Eliza whispered, “I’m trusting you, Hestia.”

“I’ve already said I’ll be careful.”

Her aunt hugged her tight. “I’m trusting you with him. Don’t give me that look, you know very well what I mean.”

“I don’t understand why you and Father are so against His Grace. He’s a good man. A duke, for goodness’ sake. Is it that I’m not good enough for him?”

They stopped outside her aunt’s bedchamber and Eliza pulled her close for a hug. “Don’t be ridiculous. I swore to your father I’d ensure you did not form an attachment with Alex.”

She pushed out of her aunt’s arms. “But why? I can’t think of any reason.”

Aunt Eliza patted her cheek. “Your father has his reasons and we must abide by them. So you will promise me you will not reinstate the silly notion of your infatuation with His Grace. It’s scandalous sailing without a chaperon, but your safety must take precedence.”

“You know if society gets wind of my sailing with His Grace without a chaperon I suspect he’d be forced to offer for me.” She watched her aunt’s mouth tighten as she straightened to her full height. “Don’t fret. I have too much pride to allow that to happen. But if he asked me because he is in love with me…now, that’s a different story.”

“He won’t ask you,” her aunt replied. “He’s incapable of love.”

“Why would you say that, or think that?” When Eliza remained silent, she said, “He might.” A knowing look crossed her aunt’s face, and Hestia wondered what she knew that Hestia did not.

“Go to sleep, dear child. The journey you are about to embark on will be treacherous and tiring. Give your father a rap around the ear for me. He should not be gallivanting around the Greek islands at his age.”

“I will try my hardest to bring him safely home. But if he does not wish to come there is not a lot I can do.”

“Very true. Your father has been besotted with ancient Greek and Roman history all his life. You were named after the Greek goddess Hestia, the goddess of home and hearth. He always said you were the only reason for him to come home.”

Then why did he seldom come home? She barely knew her father; he had been away more years of her life than at home.

Aunt Eliza continued. “At least we will have done our best. If he doesn’t wish to return, then it will be prudent for you to marry just to keep you safe.”

Sadness swamped her. “I won’t be forced to marry by some madman out to kill me, but I will take it under advisement.”

Hestia had every intention of returning with a fiancé if not married, but given her aunt’s view on His Grace…She would just have to change her father’s opinion of Alex. Given Alex was rushing to protect him against Fredrick, surely that must count.

“Darling girl, I know you and I have always thought the same. We should not marry simply for marriage’s sake. I met the man of my dreams and he died before we could wed. I never found a man I loved enough to marry after that. But this is different.”

Hestia followed her aunt into her bedchamber and sat on the bed while her aunt sat at her dresser removing her jewelry.

“I promised Mother on her deathbed that I’d choose a man worthy of me. She and Father, separately, were two lovely individuals, but together they did not work. He sailed away and left her here. She was lonely and sad for most of her life. I want a man who I can be myself with. A man who will include me in his life, his work, his duties and responsibilities.” She sucked in a deep breath. “A man I can love and who will love me.”

Her aunt put the last ring away. “A worthy stance. Life doesn’t always work the way we want. Choosing to remain unwed, well, it can be just as lonely on your own.”

“Do you regret not marrying?”

Her aunt’s face was reflected in the mirror. “I did until you came into my life. Life can be hard, cruel, and disappointing. But for some it’s filled with light, happiness, and love. I wasn’t one of the lucky ones. I’d be alone if not for you.”

Did she want to end up alone? Honestly? No, yet, “Even when you marry you can end up alone. Look at Mother. Why would His Grace make such an awful husband? Surely he would be preferable to becoming a spinster, or worse, killed so Fredrick could steal my fortune.”

Her aunt’s faced filled with pity.

“Is it because he’s a renowned rake? Is that it? You think he’d hurt me with his infidelities?”

Although she was stuck in Wales, Hestia had been able to catch up with the gossip through her best friend, Constance, who was now married to Viscount Hogarth and lived in London. Constance posted the gossip sheets dutifully to her every week. Constance, through her husband, also helped keep her informed of Alex’s life each season, since he took such great pains to avoid balls and other soirees, and if she had to admit it—he avoided her.

Oh, she knew Alex was a rake—he did love the ladies—but then what handsome, rich young man didn’t? He was no different from most of his bachelor peers.

What annoyed her immensely—no, what hurt her immensely—was that he had been nothing but a perfect gentleman with her. Her friend Constance said it was the curse of friendship. Constance’s theory was that Alex merely thought of her as the young lady he saved, and the atypical friendship they developed sailing home meant he did not see her as a romantic prospect.

Her aunt continued. “Have you ever wondered why he acts the way he does? He’s almost thirty years old. What drives him to bed countless, nameless, faceless women and never commit to any of them? He’s damaged…” Her voice faded as if she’d realized she’d said too much. “Life and the things that happen shape us. Look at you.”

She knew what Eliza was saying. After being kidnapped in the Mediterranean, on her return home she’d been shunned and talked about by society, having people make jokes, and living with the nightmares of her capture. That had changed her; she was no longer so outgoing. She was more cautious when meeting people, worried how they’d judge her. She was also more aware of how evil the world could truly be and she liked the safety and anonymity of their estate in Pembrokeshire.

If she were completely honest, this trip scared her more than she wanted to admit. Was Alex afraid? Did a man as big and as strong as Alex get scared?

“Alex may be fighting the demons of his past, but he’s still a better man than many I know.”

Her aunt laughed. “Don’t be silly. You hardly know any men, let alone really knowing Alex. You remember the man who saved you. You were infatuated with him because of the harrowing experience you endured at such a vulnerable age. I’ll admit he’s turned out better than I expected. On his father’s death he stepped into the ducal role and surprisingly is doing his duty responsibly.”

“That does not sound like a man who is ‘damaged,’ as you put it.”

“Your father has concerns about His Grace. When you find him, he can advise you.”

Hestia rose and walked to the door. “You know I saw much while I was held prisoner. If there is something I should know about Alex that might be indelicate, I assure you I am worldly wise enough to hear it.”

When her aunt’s lips simply firmed and she remained silent, Hestia sighed and walked out.

There was only one person to ask about why her father, who loved Alex like the son he never had, did not condone a match. She would have to coax the truth from Alex himself.

If demons drove his need to bed countless women, she could understand that. She was driven to make each day count too. Life could be altered in the time it took to snap your fingers, and by people or events you had no control over. Look where she was today. Fredrick had altered the path of her life with his actions.

Men bedding numerous women simply for spite, or because they could, was not Alex’s way. If he was haunted by his past, she was too. Perhaps they could help chase away their ghosts together.

Hestia’s mind whirled like a tornado. Since Fredrick had arrived at Pembroke with the body that was supposed to be her father, she felt as if her world was being ripped from her grasp. She hated this feeling of losing control. Her dreams at night constantly reminded her how helpless she’d felt as Murad’s captive, and she’d sworn she would never allow herself to feel the victim ever again. Yet once more she was setting sail into someone else’s voyage. For years she’d thought her father selfish, and her current predicament reinforced this conviction.

Alex was going to have to return to an area of the world that held painful memories. Guilt gnawed like a starving rat. She knew it wasn’t fair to Alex to ask this of him, but he anchored her. His presence calmed her, and she trusted him to keep her safe. She admired him more than any other person she knew and she freely admitted to herself that he owned her heart.

She had no idea how he felt about her. Her aunt was correct. She really didn’t know Alex. They shared a bond, true, but was there more? This journey would give them both a chance to strip away the masks and learn the truth about each other.

In her bedchamber, as she let Mary help her get ready for bed, she was determined that on this voyage, if nothing else, she’d prove she was the perfect woman for him in every way.

First she had to make him see her as a woman. That might be a tad difficult if she had to be dressed as a man. While she loved the freedom wearing trousers brought her, it did not bode well for seduction.

On a whim she’d packed her breeches for the trip to London. One thing life had taught her was to be ready for any situation. Besides, she’d thought to go home via her friend’s country estate and ride there. Her trousers represented and reminded her of a sense of freedom. Of all the situations she thought she’d find herself in, it had not occurred to her that she would have to sail with Alex, and on such short notice. The trousers were a blessing.

After being rescued by Alex from Murad’s evil clutches, she’d had nothing to wear but a torn night rail. Jacob had suggested they dress her as a boy to protect them all. They had altered some of the men’s clothes for her. If it was known they had a young girl on board…

Hestia knew she had an unconventional relationship with Alex. The things they’d done and seen. After everything they’d been through, she couldn’t treat him as if he were a stranger. She’d pretended the ton’s rules didn’t apply to them. But they did: he was a duke, she the daughter of an earl. She often forgot that during their time together on the seas, the boundaries of normal polite society had not applied. England was a different kettle of fish.

On the voyage home, Alex had never treated her as a lady of the ton, trying to dictate how she should behave or making her feel ashamed of what had happened to her. He’d given free rein to her independence, even encouraged it. He’d taught her things many men would deem inappropriate for a young lady, like fencing, how to shoot a pistol, and letting her wear breeches on board ship. Having tasted freedom, how could she go back? On her father’s estate in Wales, she’d often taken to wearing men’s clothing to ride and hunt. She enjoyed the comfort of wearing trousers.

Her heart skipped in her chest. She knew they had a bond, a special bond as only those who have been through a shared trauma share. But for some reason, Alex refused to see what else could grow between them. His resistance puzzled and hurt her.

Alex was everything she wanted in a man: kind, generous, intelligent, decisive yet humble, and sensually beautiful beyond words.

Every season she felt sick to her stomach knowing this could be the year he decided to select a bride. At his age he was expected to begin producing heirs.

This trip would allow her to understand why he pushed her away, and to perhaps get him to see her as something other than a young girl he’d saved.

They were friends. Friends who had shared something no one could understand. She knew he was not courting anyone, so why would he not consider her for the role of his duchess? It wasn’t the title she wanted. It was the man.

After the stress of the past week, sleep quickly took her. Her last thoughts were that on a ship he could not hide from her, and she was determined to make him see her. Not the daughter of an earl, not the young girl he’d rescued, but the woman who would give him her heart if he let her.