Addicted to the Duke (Imperfect Lords #1)(24)

“Still…With your father away you should have written to me. I would have put a stop to the maliciousness.”

She gave a large sigh. “That in itself would have created another scandal. Why would the Duke of Bedford champion Lady Hestia?”

“Because a woman should not have to defend her reputation when she has done nothing wrong.”

She nodded. “Society was scornful of my father’s decision to take me with him. But it was I who begged to go. You have no idea what it’s like to be ignored. To have the only parent you have left care more about his explorations than wanting to be with his only child.” A lump formed in her throat as she remembered the years of loneliness after her mother died when she was eight. Upon her mother’s death, she’d felt bereaved and she needed her father so much. He didn’t even come home for her mother’s funeral.

So she’d been determined to sail with him on his next voyage. She still did not know what made her father agree. Yet after that fateful voyage he left her at Pembrokeshire with her aunt and scurried back to Greece, barely caring how she coped with her abduction. Hestia rarely heard from her father, one letter sent each Christmas when he was not in residence. The last time he had been home was for her nineteenth birthday and that had ended in disaster.

It was as if she’d lost both her parents.

She blinked back a tear. “You can’t possibly understand what it’s like to be invisible. The world is a playground for a man like you.”

He could not hold her gaze. “From what I hear men have been falling at your feet, yet you have not accepted any of them.”

“Is it too much to ask that for once in my life someone would want me? Not my money?” She squared her shoulders and stood tall. “I will marry when I find a man to whom I matter—me, not my money, social standing, or looks.”

“Bravo. While I wish you well in that endeavor, just ensure that the man is not David.”

“For goodness’ sake, I’ve just met the man.” Why this fixation on Mr. Foxhall? She remembered the look on Alex’s face when he’d seen Mr. Foxhall holding her hand. He was livid. Was he jealous? She inwardly chided herself. How could he be jealous when he stood by and let many men propose? What if she had accepted one of them?

It was obvious he did not think of her in that way.

Could she make him see her as a woman? His reaction to Mr. Foxhall gave her hope. Hestia hugged the hope tight to her chest. They were stuck on this ship at sea, and he was known for his need of feminine company. All she’d have to do is tempt him beyond reason by playing the femme fatale.

She brushed her hands down the front of her breeches. A seductress. She almost laughed out loud at the idea. There’s the rub. She didn’t quite know how to be a femme fatale. How did a woman tempt a man? Not just any man, but a rake of the first water? And did she want to win him that way? Her aunt constantly warned her that lust burned bright, but like a wildfire it often burned itself out. There had to be more between husband and wife.

She needed to think. Alex was a complicated man. Honorable, yet she sensed he was also filled with darkness. He looked after his family and tenants, working hard, but Alex was also renowned for his wild rakish ways. He appeared to most to be a complete contradiction.

Who was the real Alex? How could she profess to love him when really she did not understand him?

She needed space from him to think. His presence always had her heart and mind at war with one another.

“If you’ll excuse me, I shall speak to Jacob and learn if there are any tasks I can help with. I have to have something to do during the voyage.”

Still bristling, she paid no attention as Alex called after her departing back, “Make sure you stay away from David.”

—

God damn David Foxhall. His friend and ship’s surgeon was far too good looking for Alex’s peace of mind. Usually he did not care. There were plenty of women for both of them to seduce. And they’d seduced plenty, but there was only one Hestia.

His Hestia.

Silence settled on the stateroom. Alex was stunned at how empty the room felt without Hestia’s presence. He’d been around her for only a week and already he missed her when she was not with him.

When he’d seen her smiling at the surgical rake, David’s hand holding hers, something inside snapped. Hestia was certainly not a shy, coy, or missish female, and sometimes her friendliness could be misconstrued. David was a man who might misconstrue and take advantage of such friendliness. A man so handsome that women rarely said no to him. And it would seem Hestia was already well under David’s spell.

The fact Hestia came with a sizable inheritance would also appeal to his friend. As the third son of a viscount, David was raised in wealth and comfort, and having to rely on a minuscule allowance and the money Alex could pay him was not to David’s liking.

He downed the rest of his drink to wash away his unkind thoughts. David would never betray him. It had been David who’d sat by his side for days as he battled the ravages of the opium sickness Murad had forced on him. Alex had longed for death, and he had almost gotten his wish as the effects of his overuse of the opium pipe while in Murad’s captivity consumed him. If not for David…

Sometimes, when the memories hit him, just for a fleeting moment he wished he had died.

Those days in Murad’s palace were spent in a dream from the opium pipe and sex. Finally he’d met Tulay. She was the beautiful slave girl whom Murad would occasionally share with him. She soothed his soul in his disgusting captivity and soon they were inseparable.