Authors: Julianne MacLean
Nevertheless, she could not lose sight of the problem here. “I am afraid you are going to have to find a way to overcome that obstacle,” she said, “because I am your wife now, and we are bound to each other until death.”
She was reminded suddenly of what he had said to her when they were making love.
God help you if you ever betray me.
“What is it that you think I will do?” she asked. “Try to take your throne away? Seek vengeance upon your family? Or leave you for another man?”
He was now buttoning up his scarlet jacket with great haste. “All of the above, not necessarily in that order.”
He picked up his sword belt and buckled it around his waist.
Alexandra knew not what to say. Did he truly believe she was capable of all those things? Did he not know how passionately she desired him?
“I am your wife now,” she insisted, “and one day I will be your queen. I give you my word that I will be faithful and dutiful. I will not betray you, try to steal your throne, nor will I ever stray from our bed. But let me also be clear with
you
, Randolph, so that there will be no more secrets between us. I want the throne of Petersbourg, and I want my son to sit upon it one day.
Our
son. But for now, and for as long as I live, I will be your faithful queen. Do not doubt it. To do so is to insult my honor.”
He had stopped what he was doing and was now staring at her with dark, brooding astonishment.
“I want to believe you,” he said, “and I wish things were different.”
“They
can
be. Just take off your clothes and come back to bed. Sometimes I feel this is the only place where you will let go of your doubts and simply follow your heart.”
“It is not my heart that gains a foothold when I am in bed with you,” he said, striding closer. “It is something else entirely. Something that borders on obsession.”
She pulled her nightdress off over her head, dropped it to the floor, and stood naked before him. “I feel it, too, and when I become consumed by it I think no more of politics or justice or power. All I want is to feel you inside me.”
He halted where he stood and let his gaze travel down the length of her body. She shivered with desire and closed her eyes, willing him to come to her. To touch her. Anywhere he pleased.
The ship creaked ominously as it rolled in a heavy swell, and she staggered slightly but never opened her eyes. For a moment she imagined he might simply walk out and leave her standing there, rejected, but then she felt the pad of his thumb rub across her erect nipple.
Sucking in a quick breath of arousal, she continued to brace both feet on the floor and ride the waves.
His warm hand cupped her whole breast while his tongue darted out to taste the other nipple. She quivered at the sensation, then threw her head back and took his head in both hands, running her fingers through his thick hair as he sucked and kissed her breast.
The next thing she knew, he was carrying her back to the bed and setting her down upon it. Only then did she open her eyes and look up to see him climbing over her.
Overcome by erotic sensation, she spread her legs wide. He kissed down the center of her quivering belly and at last settled his mouth at the throbbing juncture between her thighs.
He licked and sucked and drove her mad with ecstasy until she could no longer keep the pleasure at bay. She climaxed instantly, without warning, and her body convulsed upon the bed while she gripped his head in both hands to ensure he didn’t stop until it was over.
When at last her legs fell open and she was completely sated, she heard the pleasing sound of his sword belt unbuckling again.
“You see this is what I am talking about,” he said as he unfastened his trousers and lowered his body to hers. “I burn for you, Wife, and I want you in my bed every second of the day, no matter what the cost.”
“Then do not deprive yourself,” she told him on a breathless sigh of rapture. “You may have me whenever you please.”
And with that clear message of encouragement, he slid into her with infinite grace.
“I fear you will be the death of me,” he whispered as he kissed the side of her neck and drove slowly in and out of her.
“But won’t it be a very pleasurable death?” she replied. “One that we can enjoy together?”
“You are speaking of something different, I believe,” he said as he pushed deep.
He spoke no more words after that, but it was not an occasion for conversation. They each had desires to fulfill, fires to quench, hungers to feed.
For the rest of the night they satisfied their relentless lust for each other, and Alexandra felt quite certain that she had finally achieved greatness. She had found the man of her dreams, who made her feel like a true queen, and she had fulfilled her destiny—for she was on her way to the court of Petersbourg and would soon wear the crown that had been taken from her family.
And she was now confident that she could, in time, win back her husband’s love.
Chapter Twenty-one
At dawn the following morning, Randolph rose quietly from bed, got dressed, and left Alexandra sleeping in her cabin. They had made love countless times during the night and had slept very little. He was physically and mentally exhausted, yet he could not seem to drift off.
He went to his own cabin and changed out of his wedding attire, washed and shaved, then dressed for the day and pulled on his caped greatcoat.
Alone, he moved through the ship’s passageways and climbed the companionway to the foredeck, where he spoke briefly to the officer at the helm. The man informed Rand that the winds had calmed during the night and for that reason their speed had been greatly diminished. They were nearly at a dead stop at the moment.
Indeed, as Rand looked out over the silvery waters of the North Sea under a pale blue sky, the surface was like glass and the sails could do nothing but hang flat. It was eerily quiet.
He thanked the officer and strode to the bow to watch the sun rise from the watery horizon. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the salty fragrance of the sea and listened to the sound of a nearby member of the crew who began to hum softly to himself while he coiled a rope.
For a long time Rand stood at the rail and wondered about his father’s condition and if he would still be alive to meet Alexandra when she and Rand arrived.
What would his father make of Rand’s decision to marry her? His father had led the Revolution against the Tremaines, who had ruled the country for more than three hundred years. Perhaps he would view this as a step in the wrong direction—a move that would reverse all his efforts to shift the balance of power. Rand’s father had never been a fan of King Oswald. That was no secret.
Rand turned when a hand came to rest on his shoulder.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Nicholas said, leaning forward on the rail and squinting into the sunrise.
“Not a wink,” Rand replied. “Too much to think about.”
“It was your wedding night, Brother. I hope you didn’t spend the whole of it
thinking.
”
Rand gave no reply. He simply stood at his brother’s side, looking out over the water.
“Strangely quiet out there, isn’t it?” Nick said.
“Yes. Here we are, in a mad rush to get home to our father’s deathbed, and the wind will not cooperate. It feels as if we are being held hostage. I don’t suppose Carmichael had anything to do with it.”
They shared a knowing look.
“How the devil did he get on this ship?” Nicholas asked. “I certainly didn’t extend an invitation. Did you?”
“No,” Rand replied. “It was the dowager. There might be something going on there besides their shared ambition to put Alexandra on the throne.”
“You suspect they are engaged in an affair?”
“Yes. They seemed like a pair last night. The duchess is unquestionably enamored, and he will no doubt use that to gain acceptance at court. If he marries her, he will be Alexandra’s new stepfather, and stepgrandfather to our children.”
“The future heirs to the throne.” Nick regarded him shrewdly. “Where does he intend to stay while he’s in Petersbourg? Surely not at the palace.”
“He’ll be residing at the Hamilton Inn.”
“I’ll send someone there to keep a close eye on him.”
Rand nodded. “Good. But I’m afraid I’ll need your help to keep an eye on Alexandra as well. I don’t trust myself.”
“What do you mean?”
With a heavy sigh, Rand leaned forward over the rail. “It would be easier if I felt I could be objective, but I seem to lose my head when I am with her. You know how I am, Nick. When I fall for a woman, I fall hard, even if I don’t want to.”
Nick faced him. “Do you regret marrying her?”
“I’m not sure yet. All I know is that I have grave doubts. She is like the serpent in the garden. She is very seductive and I cannot resist her.”
“It’s not such a terrible thing, you know, to enjoy making love to your wife.”
Rand considered his brother’s wisdom. “Perhaps for any other man that would be so,” he replied, “but I am a future king and she has elevated ambitions. I cannot let down my guard.”
A strong westerly wind blew across the deck just then. It lifted the hems of their greatcoats and fluttered their cravats. The mainsail billowed and flapped heavily.
The first officer called out an order to the crew: “All hands to the windlass!”
“Looks like we’ll be on our way again soon,” Nick said. “I just hope we get there in time.”
Rand raised the collar of his coat to keep warm against the chilly sea breezes and regarded his brother curiously. “Do you ever think of that night twenty years ago, when they removed the Tremaines from the palace?”
Nick said nothing for a moment, then turned and looked up at the top of the mainmast. “We’ve never talked about it, have we? Not in all these years.”
“Why is that, do you think?”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t something I cared to remember.”
Rand nodded. “Nor I. I’ll never forget the sound of the mob outside the palace, demanding that the king answer for whatever it was that had driven them to revolt. I didn’t understand it at the time. Father locked him and the queen in the wine cellar. He said it was for their own protection. I believed him of course. The next morning they were gone, and when I asked where they were, he told me he had removed them from the palace and taken them to a secret location where they would be safe. It was a month later that the king was reported dead.” He paused. “Do you think there is any truth to the rumors?”
“That he was executed?” Nick replied. “Good God, no. Father would never order such a thing.”
Rand met his brother’s gaze squarely. “Are you quite sure about that?”
Nick frowned. “Yes. Aren’t
you
?”
After a moment’s consideration, Rand leaned forward again and rested his forearms on the rail. “I don’t know. But if there is any truth to it, it would explain Carmichael’s desire to overthrow us, for he was deeply loyal to Alex’s father. At least that is what I understand of it. Alex believes that is what happened, and for that reason I cannot be sure she is not motivated by a very dark vengeance. I cannot be sure of anything.”
Nick laid a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you need, Brother, I am here. You need only say the word and I will investigate any wrongdoing, set any plan in motion.”
Rand inhaled a deep cleansing breath. “Thank you. It is good to know I have you at my side, watching my back, for I feel as if, by marrying Alexandra Tremaine, I have just kicked a hornets’ nest and the insects are swarming.”
“I am sure it’s not as bad as all that,” Nick reassured him.
“We’ll know soon enough, when we step off the ship in Petersbourg with the future queen on my arm. Let us hope it doesn’t incite another revolution.”
“Indeed. It wouldn’t do to witness a repeat performance of that night twenty years ago, when the mob chanted for the death of the king. This time it could be you.”
Rand regarded his brother uneasily. “What is that old adage? You get what you give?”
“We weren’t the ones who overthrew the monarchy,” Nick reminded him. “We were just children.”
Rand nodded. “Let us hope the people remember what Father did for them.”
“And let us hope he did not do the wrong thing.”
They both clasped their hands behind their backs and faced the horizon as the sails caught the wind and the ship sliced through the cold, frothy waters of the North Sea toward their home country.
* * *
That night, Alexandra, Randolph, Nicholas, and Rose were invited to dine privately with the captain in his quarters at eight. It was a pleasant meal of roast duck with savory dressing, beets and carrots, and a fine red wine the captain had purchased in Portugal the previous year.
He raised his glass to toast to the king’s health in Petersbourg; then the conversation turned to lighter matters. They discussed theater and the arts in both England and Petersbourg, and only briefly touched upon the war with Napoléon in relation to recent celebrations and the return of the soldiers.
Afterward, the gentlemen remained at the table to smoke cigars with the captain while the ladies stood to return to their cabins.
As soon as the door closed behind them and they found themselves being escorted down the narrow passageway by a steward with a lamp, Rose took hold of Alex’s arm. “Alexandra. If I may have a word with you please. In private.”
A sudden tension filled the air.
“Of course.”
Alex followed her new sister-in-law to her cabin on the port side of the ship. The steward led them inside and hung the lamp on a peg. It swung back and forth with the movement of the ship.
“Will there be anything else, ma’am?” he asked.
“No, that will be all,” Rose replied.
As soon as he was gone, Rose faced Alex. “I thought it would be sensible for us to speak openly with each other, since we are now sisters. I would offer you tea, but I’m afraid I am not equipped to entertain. My poor maid has been seasick since we stepped on board.”
“I am sorry to hear it. My stepmother does not fare much better.”