“Since…?” Greg prompted.
Drex just shook his head. “Since she told me the truth. We left Grand Bahama the next day.”
Greg peered closely, suspicion imprinted into each feature. “You have feelings for the girl. I can see them all over your face.”
Gritting his teeth, he replied, “Whatever I feel is irrelevant.”
“Did you…” Greg trailed off. “Ah…well, in more delicate terms, did the two of you—”
“Unless you want my fist connecting with your mouth, I don’t advise asking that question,” Drex cut in, then silenced him with a scowl.
“I’ll take that to mean yes.” Greg whistled. “I think you’ve been stricken, but good.”
“Excuse me?”
“Cupid,” Greg clarified. “Your protectiveness, your melancholy. They point to love.”
Drex tensed and pushed the possibility aside. “I plead guilty if love and exhaustion are the same. Can you leave me in peace to sleep now? We’ll go over the plan to exchange Lilli for Ryan in the morning.”
“Lilli?” Greg questioned, brow raised. “A pet name?”
“Another one of her lies,” Drex clarified.
But deep inside, he feared that no matter how much time passed or how far he traveled, she would always be his Lilli.
* * *
The following morning, Drex rose and ate a light breakfast in his room. He stared out the window, searching for signs of Christina’s arrival. He hoped to God she had not tried to escape Hancock. He’d instructed his first mate to use force, if necessary. He doubted the man would do it, however. Hancock had
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grown fond of the girl. His only hope remained that her gloom hindered her from attempting to flee.
A brief knock sounded. He opened the door, knowing Greg stood on the other side.
“Good morning,” Greg greeted.
Drex grunted. It might have been good, had he gotten any sleep, if Christina’s visage hadn’t haunted him all night. “If you say. Let’s discuss this exchange of Lady Christina for Ryan.”
Greg glanced back at the door with a frown before he crossed the room and helped himself to a chair. “Now?”
“Help me send Manchester a note. I’ll sign it, stating that I want Ryan released in exchange for his granddaughter. We’ll meet in one week. As for location, I’ll have to rely on your knowledge of London.”
Greg paused, then nodded. “I know the perfect place. It’s sometimes used for illegal duels. You and Manchester can meet at dawn. It’s fitting, don’t you think?”
Drex rolled his eyes at Greg’s flair for drama. “Very well. Give me directions, and I’ll take Christina there myself.”
“I shall draw you a map tomorrow,” his friend said.
“Perfect.”
“Now that business is settled, I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” Drex scowled. Greg’s surprises were always unexpected—and rarely good. “I don’t need a surprise.”
Greg rose from his seat and crossed the room. “A pity,” he said, opening the door. “Come in.” He motioned to someone standing in the hallway.
“Are you certain?” the unseen man asked.
“Of course.”
Drex took a moment’s notice of Greg’s impatience—until the man came into view.
He and Drex shared the same height, the same build, the same eyes. A mirror image of his chin, when clean-shaven, met his gaze. The man possessed
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dark hair, like his own, but sprinkled with gray at the temples. The man raked a hand through his short hair, as Drex himself was wont to do.
The stranger could only be his father.
The ground shifted beneath him, and Drex reached to grip the table beside him for support.
A wave of incredulity and boiling fury washed over him. His gaze wandered the man who had abandoned his mother to prostitution, leaving two young boys on the streets. Why, after all these years, had the man brought his miserable hide here?
“What do you want?” Drex snapped.
The man stepped backward and shot Greg a questioning glance. “I’m your—
”
“I know who you are,” he cut in, curling his hands into fists. “You are not welcome here.”
The earl’s pained frown emanated regret. “Please understand, I learned of your existence years after your birth. I had no idea your mother was pregnant, son. She—”
“Never call me son.”
The man reached across the few feet separating them. The distance may as well have been a chasm, for Drex had no wish to connect with the cur who had abandoned a frightened, pregnant woman so he could continue his life of privilege.
“I’ve waited nearly two decades to meet you,” the man implored.
Drex crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from the man’s beseeching features. The earl had made his choice years ago, to walk away from his woman and children. Drex refused to give the man any sympathy now.
“I know you’ve had a terrible time of it,” his father went on. “And I know an apology seems paltry, but I am very sorry.”
Drex cursed beneath his breath. Why did Greg have to bring the man here now? He had enough to deal with in trying to free Ryan and release Lilli. The upheaval of dealing with the good earl was more than he needed now. And the
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man’s seeming sincerity added another complication he didn’t want to deal with.
“Viscount Monroe,” his father gestured to Greg, “informed me that your younger brother, your twin, Ryan was impressed into the Navy.”
Drex refused to respond. His father’s concern had come twenty-eight years too late.
“Yes,” Greg pitched in. “I also told him all of the methods you’ve used in trying to obtain his release.”
“All of them?” Drex felt his blood begin to boil.
“Yes. He—”
“Are you insane?” he hissed. “Why don’t you just pay the town crier to shout that I’m the Black Dragon? Maybe that will catch Manchester’s attention.”
“I’m here to help you, in any way I can,” his father interjected. “I shall renew old contacts, see if I can at least learn what ship Ryan is on. But your secret is safe with me.”
“How touching.” Drex’s voice oozed sarcasm.
His father sighed. “I came here today to tell you that I never married and have no children. Should you wish it, I want to make you my heir. My home and family are open to you and your brother, if you simply say the word.”
Without waiting for Drex’s reaction, the earl exited the room, leaving a wake of troubled silence.
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Chapter Twelve
A week later, dawn spread over the misty slopes of an empty London field, signaling the death knell of Drex’s hopes for a miracle. Ryan had not magically been released, nor had he escaped. Drex saw no end to this excruciating exchange of one part of his heart for another.
He was going to have to release Lilli.
She stood behind him, glaring daggers at his back. Hancock held her in his grip.
No one said a word, or breathed, it seemed, as they awaited the arrival of Manchester and his men. Greg had volunteered to lead the man to this secret rendezvous point in order to prevent the possibility of an ambush. And true to form, his friend had disguised himself with an absurd plumed hat, atop a powdered face and wig. The French falsetto he mimicked only added to his outrageous Revolution-era fashion debacle.
Drex stole a discreet glance over his shoulder at Lilli’s pale, thin features.
Her gaze burned with hostility, and she aimed both barrels at him alone. Only the knowledge that her broken heart must be temporary enabled him to push forward with his plan.
Still, he wished he’d had the opportunity to explain this hostage exchange to her. But the less she knew, the better. Her grandfather would doubtless grill her for information.