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“Then walk.” Drake strode off, in no mood to be goaded. During the weeks at sea he had refused to think about the confrontation to come, but now he had run out of time.
He ordered a tub of hot water for Alex, then headed to their cabin to speak with her. Outside the closed door he paused, absently stroking his beard. He had to tell her.
At the sound of his entrance, she turned from the porthole and smiled her welcome. “We are here.”
He noticed that she didn’t use the word “home.” Studying her face, he saw the strain there, knew that she was as uneasy about their arrival as he was. Well, by telling her the truth, he could eliminate many of her concerns. But he would also create many more serious ones.
“Yes, princess, we’re here.” He didn’t smile. “I have arranged for your bath, and Smitty has gone into town to purchase some appropriate clothing for you.”
“Thank you.” Alex was touched. “That was very thoughtful.” She hesitated. “Where are we going?”
He gave her a measured look. “To my family’s home,” he replied at last. “At least for now.” Another pause. “Alexandria, I have a great deal to discuss with you. I am sure you have many questions as well.” At her nod he continued. “I am going ashore to arrange for a carriage to take us home.” The final word tasted bitter on his tongue. “After which I will return and we will talk.” He opened the door again, without waiting for an answer. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Drake left the ship and made his way along the crowded docks to the warehouse labeled “Barrett Shipping.” He walked through a narrow entranceway adjacent to the wide wooden cargo doors and went directly into the office.
A stout gray-haired man looked up from the desk and blinked. “Yes? May I help you?”
Drake broke into a broad grin. “Come now, John. I haven’t been gone long enough for you to forget me.”
John Rother, the overseer at the warehouse, bolted to his feet and gaped. “Lord Cairnham? Is that you?”
“Beard and all, John.”
“Forgive me, my lord, but we all thought … that is, we received word that …”
“That I was dead?” Drake supplied calmly.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Well, as you can see, I am very much alive.”
“But your ship … ?”
Drake’s jaw tightened. “Unfortunately, La Belle Illusion is lost to us. I will begin plans for her replacement immediately.”
“Of course, my lord.” Rother was still staring, stunned both by Drake’s existence and by his disheveled appearance.
Drake chuckled at the disbelief clearly written on Rother’s face. “I need a carriage to take us to Allonshire.” He knew that by “us” Rother would assume he meant himself and Smitty.” Which was fine. He had no intention of discussing his personal life with those in his employ. But Rother was shaking his head frantically.
“My lord, there is something that you do not know—” He broke off, wiping his damp forehead with the back of his hand.
Drake felt a twinge of fear. “What is it?”
“It is your father, my lord. He is quite ill.”
“How ill?” Drake demanded.
/> Rother dropped his eyes. “We have been told that he is dying, my lord.”
“Dying …” Drake repeated the word, denying it to himself even as he said it.
“He has been deteriorating rapidly,” Rother rushed on, anxious to be done with it. “I have received no word for days now, so I don’t know precisely what his condition—”
“Have that carriage brought around immediately,” Drake broke in, heading for the door. Business could wait; he was needed at Allonshire.
“It shall be done at once, my lord,” Rother assured him.
Drake and Smitty arrived back at the ship at the exact same moment. The worry in Smitty’s eyes told Drake that he knew.
