Addicted to the Duke (Imperfect Lords #1)(55)

David threw down his napkin. “I’ll just check it’s nothing serious,” and he left the table.

Jacob’s eyebrows rose. “Didn’t tell him then.”

Alex shrugged and began to fill his plate. “There seemed no point.”

“You think it right he learns on his wedding night?”

He stopped with his plate half full. “You think I’d let David marry her now? I’m offended.”

“It hardly seems fair turning her into a widow a few days after her wedding.” As Alex gently put his plate down on the table, Jacob added, “You’re in no state to take on Murad.”

His anger subsided. He could hardly deny the truth.

“Why don’t we simply find the earl and return to England? Murad can wait for another day. Marry the girl, make an heir, and live for the future instead of the past.”

Alex sank back in his chair, anger, shock, and disbelief warring inside. How could Jacob think he could put what Murad did to him out of his mind? Simply forget the past—after he’d tried for four years? “Would you not seek vengeance if in my position?”

“Don’t get that thunderous look. You’ve let Murad be for over four years. Four years! Why now? The only reason you’re thinking of revenge is because Hestia handed you a reason to come to Murad’s stamping ground.”

That was also true.

“It took me almost a year to recover. Then Father was ill and I was expected to run the estate. Some of us have responsibilities. Then my father died and I became the Duke of Bedford and had several duties thrust upon me. I have worked hard and I have waited for my brother Harris to come of age. He’s twenty, almost one and twenty. If anything happens to me he’ll be able to manage the dukedom.” He looked at Jacob. “I would have gone after Murad later this year anyway. Hestia’s situation simply brought my departure forward.”

“That’s why you requested I add more cannons to the Angelica a few months ago.”

He nodded. “I always planned to go after Murad, and a letter I received from Costa just before I came to London meant I would have left England a few months from now anyway.”

Costa was a fisherman who had rescued Alex in the Mediterranean after his escape from Murad.

“Costa has information on Murad?”

Alex continued to fill his plate. He needed to rebuild his strength. “Yes.”

“I assume Costa knows you are coming then? Our arrival will not be a surprise.” As Alex merely grinned, Jacob added, “I wish you had told me this from the start.”

“What difference does it make?”

“I would have suggested confronting Fredrick Cary before leaving London and marrying Hestia before we left. The worst thing that could occur is if Cary joins forces with Murad. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

That thought made the food on his plate look like ash. Bloody Cary did know of his past. But would Cary dare to enter any kind of agreement with Murad? Murad was a slippery snake who would turn and strike friend or foe if there was profit in it. However, Murad wanted Alex back—and not only for profit. He’d pay anything to accomplish Alex’s capture. Cary would know that.

That is why he’d instructed his family solicitor not to pay any ransom should he be captured. He’d already decided to die if he were caught. He’d not be Murad’s plaything ever again.

Jacob asked, “You think Fredrick Cary is on that sloop as well?”

Alex nodded. “If I were him I would not leave a loose end like Lady Hestia, or ignore the chance the earl might alert anyone to his treachery before Fredrick disposes of him.”

“Bloody hell, you’re right. We have to capture the sloop.”

“Aye, we do, but not near Pentati. Should we fail we can’t let Cary lead Murad to Costa and his crew.”

Alex took a long slug of wine. “We can’t engage them with Hestia on board. Can we?” At Jacob’s grim face, he added, “You have an idea.”

“I suggest we head to the other side of the island. Wait until nightfall and under the cover of darkness we row Hestia and Foxhall and some men ashore, hoping the sloop is too far away from us to see.”

“Then we engage the sloop.”

“It can’t outrun us for long, and one well-aimed cannon shot should send her to the bottom of the sea.”

He pondered that point. “Don’t we need Fredrick Cary alive?”

“Do we? Would it not be best for Hestia and her father if he did not survive?”

But unless he saw a body, Alex would not take anything for granted. There was too much at stake. “I’d need proof he died. I’d prefer to capture him.”

Alex played with his food as he thought through the situation. Fredrick dead would be a perfectly acceptable choice, but perhaps the earl deserved the right to decide his cousin’s fate. He wanted to kill Murad himself. That honor went to him and him alone. He had this terrible feeling that the terror of his captivity would only fade away if he killed Murad himself.

Would the earl want to exert his own justice against Fredrick Cary?

There was only one problem as Alex saw it. “How do you propose to capture the sloop without sending it to the bottom of the sea? It’s capable of short, sharp bursts of speed and it can tack quicker than us.”