Protection

Chapter Twenty Eight

“Can’t you make this bloody schooner faster?” Alexander Pembroke roared.

The man at the helm of the ship made angry eyes at the tall, dark haired man, but Alex had already turned away.

  “We shall reach Callais when we can, monsieur,” came the calm, collected voice of Adrien.

The Adrien who was supposed to be dead. The Adrien because of whom Alayna had wasted years grieving over.

   Alex fisted his hands, a sick feeling washing over his stomach. How was he supposed to be calm? Calm? He pushed the thought aside, almost certain he would retch over the side of the boat. He still could not believe that Adrien was alive.

   And he could only imagine Alayna’s elation whenever she realized that he was not dead. He knew that he would celebrate Julia, if she was here.

   If she was here.

The things Julia thought of, that no one else thought of. She would have kept him out of this mess. But lately, when he tried to think of Julia, he thought of Alayna. The way Alayna’s lips felt when he kissed her. The way Alayna’s jade green eyes flamed emerald whenever he enraged her.

   “Monsieur, if I may ask, how long has she been in your care?”

“Since the fall.”

“And…how did she come to be in your care?”

Alex exhaled. Of course, the man wanted answers about the woman he loved. “She had been residing in my father’s home.” He paused, racking his muddled brain for the appropriate word. “He found her, in Dover, I believe.” He stopped there, thinking of that first day he had met her. Small and pretty and clad in black, with a fine french face that had sneered at him. He had thought her his father’s paramour, though he knew now that had been a silly notion.

   “He found her in Dover,” Alex repeated. “Just after the Revolution, he took her back to his home. She hadn’t a cent, and she had no place to go. My father was an old man. His intentions were honorable. And, he knew he was ill, and a companion was exactly what he needed.  When he died, he bade me to care for her.”

 Adrien’s eyes held a look of earnest fear. Alexander sensed, in that moment, that he was hiding something. But he dare not ask. Secrets were the last thing on his mind for the moment.

   Instead, he turned, and watched Ellie track a rat across the ship. He grinned. She wasn’t much bigger than the vermin she chased.

   “Do you think she is alive.”

It was not a question; it was a gloomily spoken statement. In every way.

“I hope,” Alex whispered. “I hope.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes,” Sterling snarled, “my brother.”

“But you-“

“I am James Pembroke’s son,” he said. His eyes flashed, and she felt a snap of confusion at her brain.

“But you- your name-“

“My name was given by my mother’s husband.”

The shock in her chest- was she dreaming? At this point, she did not know what was real. And what wasn’t real. She did not know fear from fatigue. And how many days had it been?

   “Silly Alex- he doesn’t know. You see, it was…oh, probably about the same time that Alexander’s mother was expecting him.”

     Her memory of James was suddenly moved- the upright man who had taken her in.