Alex turned slowly to her husband.
“Remember that we are being watched by countless eyes, my love,” he reminded her softly.
She nodded. “I am uncertain whether to thank you or be ill.”
“I would prefer the thanks.”
Alex cocked her head. “You can be quite charming, your grace. I commend you on your performance.”
Drake did not smile. “I only did for you what you have done for me all day. Support and loyalty are what a partnership is all about, are they not?”
He didn’t wait for her reply.
“The coach is awaiting, Alexandria,” he reminded her.
She nodded, emotion welling up inside her once more. Without a word she accompanied Drake to their mourning coach and to the burial that lay ahead.
Utterly spent, Alex leaned against the cool wall of the hallway for a moment’s rest. Samantha had been put to bed, needing consolation and soothing words like a small child. Alex had sat with her until she drifted off, then made certain the manor was duly prepared for a lengthy mourning period.
Now she shook her head until the brief dizzy spell had passed, then walked down the hall, past the dining room and into the gallery where she knew she would find Drake. He stood within the pillared walls, surrounded by rows of high-backed chairs, with a drink in his hand, staring up at the portraits of his ancestors.
Alex walked in quietly, coming to stand beside her husband.
“You are looking at all the previous Dukes and Duchesses of Allonshire,” he told her, without taking his eyes from the portraits, “of which I am the eleventh.” He took a deep swallow of whiskey. “Dignified-looking group, wouldn’t you say, princess?”
Alex glanced up at him with concern. “Are you all right, Drake?”
He gave a harsh laugh. “Now, that is an excellent question, my love. Am I all right? I suppose I shall be. The will to survive is strong.” He downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and placed the empty glass on the mantel over the fireplace. “Let me be honest with you.” He raised a dark, sardonic brow in her direction. “You did want honesty, did you not?”
“Drake, you’ve had too much to drink.”
He shook his head in denial. “Quite the contrary, my sweet. I have had but one drink. You are hearing the ramblings of a tortured mind.” He stared up at the wall again, inhaled deeply. “It is not only the loss of my father we are discussing,” he said in a defeated voice, “but the loss of my life as I have known it. I know what is expected of me. And in order to fulfill my obligations, I have to forfeit most of what I care for”—he glanced at Alex and amended softly, “possibly all of what I care for … most in the world.”
“I understand,” she whispered.
“Do you?” he demanded in a firm, quiet tone. “Do you understand that none of what has happened in the last few months has been a lie? That I am nothing more or less than you thought I was?”
His words echoed in her ears. Nothing more or less than she had thought he was? More in some ways, perhaps less in the ways that were more important. But what Alex really focused on was the first part of Drake’s statement. He had said that nothing had been a lie. He was telling her that what they had felt between them, what she had felt for him, had not been a figment of her imagination. It had been real.
Perhaps, then, there was some hope for them. Alex was too tired to be certain. But she was certain that, despite all that had come between them, she loved him. Nothing could change that. Nothing.
Silence prevailed as Drake awaited her answer.
At last she replied, “Yes, I do understand exactly what you are, Drake, possibly even why you are that way. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me.”
“I was a fool.”
“Yes, you were.”
He chuckled, without humor. “Always forthright, my Alex.” He studied her sad face. “And now that you believe me, where do we go from here?”
“I honestly do not know. I feel betrayed and humiliated. It seems the entire world knew who you were. Everyone but the one person who had the greatest right to know … your wife. I believed in you, in your honesty and your integrity.” Her lips trembled. “I was willing to turn my back on my way of life and assume yours, to endure mockery and scorn from people I had decided were less worthy than you. And all at once I find that you are just as they are—if not in your heart, then in fact. I realize that Captain Drake Barrett is very much a part of the Duke of Allonshire. I realize … I comprehend … but I can’t forgive you for lying to me. Not now, maybe never. I just don’t know.”
“Never is a long time to ask a man to wait.” His voice was hoarse, strained.
She met his gaze. “I am not deserting you, nor will I. I am and will continue to be your wife, the mistress of your home.”
“Publicly,” he clarified.