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“Knowing your daughter, you should not.”

Geoffrey gave a harsh laugh. “My daughter is headstrong and opinionated and would dare anything to defy me.”

Drake looked startled. “She wants only to please you.”

“By stowing away aboard a merchant ship that is captained by a notoriously irreverent nobleman with the morals of a snake?”

Instead of being insulted, Drake looked amused by Geoffrey’s accurate assessment of his character. “Alexandria has no idea of who I am.”

“I surmised as much.” Geoffrey studied Drake for a moment, then walked over to a table that held several crystal decanters and poured himself a healthy portion of brandy. He took a deep swallow before he spoke again. “Frankly I have no interest in knowing why you kept your true identity from Alexandria. The fact remains that you have spent numerous nights at sea with my unchaperoned daughter. Today is the twelfth of June. You left England on the …”

“Thirtieth of March,” Drake supplied helpfully.

“Then you were alone with Alexandria for over two months. During which time—”

“Nothing happened.” Drake had had enough. He faced Geoffrey directly, feeling as much disgust as he did anger. “I simply delivered your daughter to York. She was assigned her own quarters, and everything was quite proper. The subject of payment is absurd, since you and I both know that I have more money than I need or want. So,, now that we’ve both had our say”—he turned and opened the library door—“I will take my leave.”

“I will ruin your family name.”

The cold, calmly spoken words halted Drake in his tracks. “What?” He turned, incredulous, toward Geoffrey, who was dispassionately sipping his brandy.

“I said I will ruin your family name,” Geoffrey reiterated, slowly lowering his glass to the table. “Surely even a rebel like you must have some regard for honor?” Seeing the shocked expression on Drake’s face, he nodded. “I can see that you do. Good, honor is a fine quality in a husband.”

“Why would you want to do this?” Drake asked, his tone deceptively quiet. The anger he felt toward this overbearing man was extreme. It was true that Drake was irreverent about his future title and position, but he felt a great responsibility toward his family … or at least most of its members. Images of Samantha flashed through his head. She was young, but not too young to be affected by a scandal. And his father, though ailing, would be destroyed by a tarnishing of the family name. It was ironic, after all the decadent behavior in the family, that an act of total innocence had the potential to ruin the Barretts. But such were the rules of the ton—absurd, yet consistent.

Another, more surprising, realization overshadowed his train of thought, and that was that the idea of marriage to Alexandria neither repulsed nor upset him. She was so intelligent and spirited that he would never be bored by her. She was genuine in her likes and dislikes, never resorting to trickery to achieve her ends. She was as close to trustworthy as any woman could ever be.

And he wanted her.

The thought of finally possessing the beautiful body that haunted his dreams and fired his loins was quite an enticement to marriage. As for his inexplicable feelings of tenderness … those, he would simply control.

The comical thing was that Alexandria wouldn’t want him. That thought almost made him laugh out loud. After being sought after by more females than he could count, for every type of liaison imaginable, he had met the one woman who would want neither his title nor his money. Oh, she wanted him sexually. That he knew, just as he knew that he could make her moan with passion, feel things she had never dreamed possible. The problem was that the one she wanted was a ship’s captain. A simple man and a simple life.

He could give her neither.

Geoffrey was speaking, and Drake forced his mind back to the situation at hand.

“I am doing this, Lord Cairnham, to ensure a secure future for my only child. I take it from your silence that the idea of marriage to Alexandria does not offend your sensibilities?”

Drake walked back into the room, slamming the door behind him. “Tha

t is not the issue here,” he shot back. “The issue is that your daughter has no desire whatsoever to be my wife.”

“She should have considered that before she boarded your ship.”

“So now she must pay for her folly by being forced to marry a man she hardly knows?” Drake was incredulous.

“Arranged marriages are hardly unusual in our circle, now, are they?”

“This is not arranged; it is forced.”

“So be it.” Geoffrey shrugged. “The fact remains that if word of Alexandria’s escapade should become known back in England, she will no longer be considered a suitable wife for any of the eligible men I had in mind for her to meet during the Season. And even if the specifics are not uncovered by the gossips who populate the ton, my daughter disappeared at the height of her first London Season. Do you believe for one moment that this has gone unnoticed? My poor wife must have had quite a time explaining the situation without damaging our reputation. The only way for us to save face is for Alexandria to return to England a married woman.” He smiled, refilling his glass. “And the future Duchess of Allonshire as well. Ample compensation for the damage that has been done, I should say.”

Despite Drake’s anger, he could not challenge the merit of Geoffrey’s logic. Alexandria was, in many ways, ruined. Drake had not ruined her—she had, in fact, ruined herself—but apparently it was up to him to restore her respectability.

An interesting twist of fate.

“Her reaction will not be pleasant,” he warned Geoffrey.

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