kindness and his courage.
Turning from the window, he said, "I need to visit the Helena this afternoon to let my chief mate know what's happening."
She suppressed a stab of fear that he wouldn't return. "Can you spare a book for me?" she asked lightly. "Living in a cage is rather boring."
Recognizing what she wasn't saying, he said quietly, "You don't trust easily." Her hand gripped a gilded bar as she remembered the days when trust had been natural. "I used to. I've ... lost the habit."
He enclosed her hand in his. "It won't be much longer."
Warmth flowed from him to her, more emotional than physical. A little flustered, she said, "I'm beginning to believe that. You're a good influence. But..."
When her voice trailed away, he asked, "But what?"
"Even if the best happens-I'm freed, I find Katie unhurt, we return to England safely-I don't know how I can ever regain the life I knew. The only life I wanted." Despite the heat, she shivered. "If what happened to me becomes known, society will gasp with sympathetic horror, then fastidiously withdraw, afraid of being tainted. The shame of this will follow Katie her whole life."
"Your perfect mother-will she cast off you and her granddaughter? " Alex thought of Catherine, whose arms were always open with welcome. "Of course not."
"Will your stepfather condemn you?"
She had to smile. "The colonel will have to be restrained from sailing here and personally administering justice to the pirates."
"Society begins with your family. If they accept you, the rest don't much matter." His hand tightened around hers. "Be grateful you have a loving, supportive family. Many people don't." She realized that he'd said very little about his own relatives. "Do you have family, Gavin?"
"None that I know. My parents are dead. I have no brothers or sisters."
"I've got lots of family, so you can borrow some of mine," she said impulsively. "And you only have to take the nice ones, I promise."
"You're kind. Perhaps I shall do that when we reach London." He drew her hand through the bars and brushed a light, courtly kiss on her knuckles. "Everything will turn out all right for you, Alexandra. I feel it in my fey Scottish bones."
His confidence left her optimistic even after he left to go down to the harbor. The afternoon was long and boring, except when children peeped around the door and giggled. She tried to coax them in, not minding that she'd become an object of amusement to the children of the palace, but they were too shy to enter the room.
The bright eyes and cheerful faces reminded her of what Gavin had said about Katie's probable treatment in captivity. Even if she was never rescued, she might live a happy life here-she had a happy nature-but Alex wanted to be the one to guide and guard her daughter. No stranger, no matter how kindly, could possibly love Katie as much as her own mother.
Such dismal thoughts made her glad when Gavin returned. He had two books: a collection of Byron's poetry and Sir Walter Scott's Ivanhoe. "If these don't appeal, I can send for others."
"Bless you, Gavin!" She stroked the leather bindings greedily. "I expected a book of sea charts, and even that would have been a pleasure."
"I have too many books in my cabin. I'm glad you like these." As he withdrew to change his clothes for another palace dinner, she opened Ivanhoe. On the flyleaf a bold, masculine hand had written: To Helena on her 22nd birthday, with all my love -Gavin. Her throat tightened at the inscription. How generous of him to lend his wife's own book which he'd kept for all these years.
Opening the Byron, she found Helena Elliott in clear, delicate handwriting. What had Helena been like? Surely pretty and sweet, adoring her handsome young husband as much as he'd adored her. What a tragedy that she'd died so young.
Offering silent thanks to Helena for the use of the books, Alex began to read Ivanhoe. She hardly noticed Gavin's departure. After the light became too dim to read, she ate the
Turning from the window, he said, "I need to visit the Helena this afternoon to let my chief mate know what's happening."
She suppressed a stab of fear that he wouldn't return. "Can you spare a book for me?" she asked lightly. "Living in a cage is rather boring."
Recognizing what she wasn't saying, he said quietly, "You don't trust easily." Her hand gripped a gilded bar as she remembered the days when trust had been natural. "I used to. I've ... lost the habit."
He enclosed her hand in his. "It won't be much longer."
Warmth flowed from him to her, more emotional than physical. A little flustered, she said, "I'm beginning to believe that. You're a good influence. But..."
When her voice trailed away, he asked, "But what?"
"Even if the best happens-I'm freed, I find Katie unhurt, we return to England safely-I don't know how I can ever regain the life I knew. The only life I wanted." Despite the heat, she shivered. "If what happened to me becomes known, society will gasp with sympathetic horror, then fastidiously withdraw, afraid of being tainted. The shame of this will follow Katie her whole life."
"Your perfect mother-will she cast off you and her granddaughter? " Alex thought of Catherine, whose arms were always open with welcome. "Of course not."
"Will your stepfather condemn you?"
She had to smile. "The colonel will have to be restrained from sailing here and personally administering justice to the pirates."
"Society begins with your family. If they accept you, the rest don't much matter." His hand tightened around hers. "Be grateful you have a loving, supportive family. Many people don't." She realized that he'd said very little about his own relatives. "Do you have family, Gavin?"
"None that I know. My parents are dead. I have no brothers or sisters."
"I've got lots of family, so you can borrow some of mine," she said impulsively. "And you only have to take the nice ones, I promise."
"You're kind. Perhaps I shall do that when we reach London." He drew her hand through the bars and brushed a light, courtly kiss on her knuckles. "Everything will turn out all right for you, Alexandra. I feel it in my fey Scottish bones."
His confidence left her optimistic even after he left to go down to the harbor. The afternoon was long and boring, except when children peeped around the door and giggled. She tried to coax them in, not minding that she'd become an object of amusement to the children of the palace, but they were too shy to enter the room.
The bright eyes and cheerful faces reminded her of what Gavin had said about Katie's probable treatment in captivity. Even if she was never rescued, she might live a happy life here-she had a happy nature-but Alex wanted to be the one to guide and guard her daughter. No stranger, no matter how kindly, could possibly love Katie as much as her own mother.
Such dismal thoughts made her glad when Gavin returned. He had two books: a collection of Byron's poetry and Sir Walter Scott's Ivanhoe. "If these don't appeal, I can send for others."
"Bless you, Gavin!" She stroked the leather bindings greedily. "I expected a book of sea charts, and even that would have been a pleasure."
"I have too many books in my cabin. I'm glad you like these." As he withdrew to change his clothes for another palace dinner, she opened Ivanhoe. On the flyleaf a bold, masculine hand had written: To Helena on her 22nd birthday, with all my love -Gavin. Her throat tightened at the inscription. How generous of him to lend his wife's own book which he'd kept for all these years.
Opening the Byron, she found Helena Elliott in clear, delicate handwriting. What had Helena been like? Surely pretty and sweet, adoring her handsome young husband as much as he'd adored her. What a tragedy that she'd died so young.
Offering silent thanks to Helena for the use of the books, Alex began to read Ivanhoe. She hardly noticed Gavin's departure. After the light became too dim to read, she ate the
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