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Alex gave him a bright smile. “I stole in during the night and hid beneath your berth. I had no idea this particular cabin would be occupied.”
Drake counted slowly to ten, then took a deep breath. “Am I to understand that you stowed away aboard my ship without the knowledge of or permission from anyone, including your father?”
A veil of uncertainty momentarily clouded Alex’s clear eyes. “More or less,” she admitted in a small voice. “However,” she continued, regaining her composure, “I am quite certain that Father will welcome the visit.”
“Then why did he not provide you with proper passage and an appropriate chaperon?”
Alex was silent at Drake’s probing question.
He was not surprised.
An image of Geoffrey Cassel appeared in Drake’s mind. He did not know the cold, rigid man well—just well enough to know that the Earl would not care at all for this sort of disruption.
The realization suddenly struck Drake that Alexandria Cassel had no idea of his identity. Further, even if she did, his name would probably be meaningless to her, as it was highly unlikely that her father would discuss business in her presence. Therefore, as far as the nobly bred Lady Alexandria was concerned, Drake was merely a common sailor.
Drake studied the beauty before him, careful to keep his face impassive. So this was Lord Sudsbury’s daughter, this fiery, arrogant creature. She was not what Drake would have expected. Actually he gave her high marks for honesty and for audacity. She really expected him to take her to Canada. Obviously the spoiled little thing was used to getting everything she wanted. That would account for her colossal nerve and bold tongue.
Alexandria felt anything but bold. Her knees were knocking, and her hands felt like ice. Nothing had prepared her for this man who stood before her now, rage contorting his chiseled features. He looked like an avenging Greek god, bronzed and beautiful, with thick black hair and eyes like jade fire, eyes that burned straight into hers, turning her body to a quivering mass. Rather than succumb to her powerful reaction to him, Alex was trying to appear cool and unruffled. But it appeared that she was failing miserably. This sea captain was not impressed with her father’s title or position, and she had an uncomfortable feeling that her next plan, to offer him money, would be no more successful in persuading him to take her to York.
Panic seized her. If she could not persuade him to allow her passage on his ship, it was quite possible that he would dock at the nearest port and demand that she leave. She couldn’t have that. She had come too far to fail.
Moistening her lips, she stood, hoping to minimize the difference in their height, thus giving herself more confidence. Her ploy failed. Even standing tall, her shoulders back, he dwarfed her by more than a foot.
It was time to change tactics. Alex looked up at him pleadingly. “Please, sir,” she began, “I must get to Canada. I would be happy to pay my way.”
“This is not a passenger ship, my lady,” was the cool reply.
“I am aware of that. And therefore I would expect to pay considerably more for my passage. Also”—Alex smiled winningly—”I am an excellent sailor. I could help relieve your men.”
“The kind of relief you would provide would not be at the helm, princess.” The way his eyes raked her slender form left no doubt as to his meaning.
Alex blushed and lowered her lashes.
A nice touch, Drake thought to himself bitterly. The innocent maiden. She really belongs on the stage. Yet a vague feeling of guilt tugged at him. And when a tear slid down her cheek, that feeling intensified.
“Why is it so important for you to travel to York?” he asked in an even tone. “Are you running to something or from it?”
“Neither,” she told him truthfully. “I am just seeking something that I have yet to find.”
“Which is?”
“I cannot tell you until I have found it.”
Drake ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. He would be crazy even to consider allowing her passage. She was a woman and that meant trouble anywhere, but especially at sea, among men who would be without a woman for months. This exquisite little thing would be too tempting a morsel for any man to resist.
“The sea is no place for a woman.” He was stunned to hear his own voice, which sounded as if he was actually contemplating the idea of taking her to Canada.
Alex heard it, too. “I promise to stay out of everyone’s way,” she said eagerly. “I’ll do anything you ask, Captain. Please.” Once again the soft voice and the fathomless gray eyes beseeched him, and Drake felt himself weakening. The weakness infuriated him, and he tensed, staring down at her, wondering at the effect she had on him.
Alex saw him stiffen. I am not reaching him at all, she realized sadly. He must be made of stone.
Until that moment, Alex wo
uld have been correct. But she could not know of the war that now raged inside Drake. While his heart was indeed encased in stone, he could not resist the enchanting vision she made, so small and yet so determined, pleading for passage to York. A faint flicker of warmth sparked inside him. What choice was there really? a small voice in his head whispered. To leave her at some strange port would be barbaric; to turn back to London would be to lose precious time. Besides, he thought, a challenging light intensifying his emerald eyes, the little wench said she could hold her own. Let’s see her do so.
Drake folded his arms across his chest and stared down at her. “Your clothes will have to go.”
“Pardon me?” Alex’s fingers flew instinctively to the front of her gown.
