Samantha (Barrett 2)

"Yes." Drake smiled faintly. "It's an incredible feeling, having a child of your own. I still remember the first time I held Gray. It was as if a part of me had merged with a part of Alex and formed this extraordinary little being who looked up at me as if heaven itself should bow to my command. The surge of love, of protectiveness, was staggering. It still is. I'd give my life for my son ... and for all his sisters and brothers yet to come." Once again Drake glanced upward. "If only Alex didn't have to suffer so ... it twists a knife in my gut. God, how I wish I could take her pain."

Rem felt that odd constriction in his chest. "You love Alexandria very much."

"More than I ever believed possible." Drake gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I wasn't much of a believer in love until Alex exploded into my life. In fact, I wasn't much of a believer in anything; didn't give a damn for anyone. Except the sea. And Sammy." Drake's brow furrowed as a sudden thought struck him. "Speaking of which, I want to thank you, a bit belatedly, for the excellent care you took of my sister."

Rem nearly leapt from his chair. "Pardon me?"

"Samantha." Drake shot Rem a quizzical look. "Smitty told me you rescued the two of them from the storm their first night in London."

"Oh ... yes. 'Twas nothing. In fact, I'd nearly forgotten."

"I'm sure you barely recognized Sammy; when you last saw her, she was a child."

Warning bells sounded in Rem's head. "True. She's become an enchanting young lady."

"Young is right. Too young to be let loose among the lechers of the ton. I sent her off to London under Smitty's watchful eye so that she could indulge in her first Season. I feel guilty as hell for not accompanying her, but I couldn't bear to leave Alex ... not with the baby's birth so imminent. Still, I'm bloody worried about Samantha. She's too damned open and trusting, and sheltered—my fault, I suppose. But being seventeen years her senior, I've always protected her from the world's ills ... in many ways a father more than a brother."

"I can understand that."

Something of Rem's tension must have conveyed itself to Drake. He inclined his head sharply, eyes narrowed on Rem's face. "Have you had occasion to see Sammy since that night at the tavern?"

Careful,

Rem cautioned himself, "Your aunt Gertrude has been escorting Samantha to all the Season's grand balls and soirees. They were in attendance at Almack's, Carlton House, and at least several other parties that come readily to mind." "I see. So you noticed her at these gatherings?"

"I did."

"Did you dance with her?"

Rem nodded. "She's delightful."

"Yes ... delightful and innocent. Thoroughly innocent. Perfect prey for an immoral blackguard ... wouldn't you agree?"

"Definitely."

"I'd kill any man who touched her. Surely you can't blame me for that?"

"I don't blame any man for doing what he must," Rem replied, calmly meeting Drake's gaze.

"I'm glad to hear that, Gresham. Very glad."

"Your Grace?" Humphreys's knock was loud and purposeful.

Drake reached the door in two strides and yanked it open.

"Is it Alex?"

"Yes." Soberly, Humphreys nodded. "The duchess asked me to give you a message. She would like to remind you that all women, no matter how young, dislike being kept waiting by the most important man in their life-—especially once they've made an entrance."

Already halfway down the hall, Drake came to a screeching halt. "What?"

A broad grin erupted on Humphreys's face. "You have a daughter, Your Grace. Congratulations."

"A daughter." Drake's throat worked convulsively. "Alex ... is she ... ?"

"The duchess herself spoke to me. She's tired, but splendid. And a bit impatient."

Running a shaking hand through his hair, Drake looked dazedly at Rem. "I've got to go to her. Gresham, I—"