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“I NEED ’NOTHER.”
Scowling at her drunken patron, Lina stood behind the counter, nursing the broken-hearted man as he sat at the bar. The smell of desperation wafted from his person... along with a whole bottle of whiskey. He’d spent the last two hours telling her his life’s tale. It was obvious he loved this Talia more than he’d ever loved another.
Not that it surprised her. Talon Barberry always been a passionate man. Even as a child, he ran and played with zeal. The love he’d poured upon his family increased two-fold when his mother died. He’d taken care of his baby sister as if she were his own. It’s why he’d taken his brother’s rebuke and his clan’s mockery to heart.
At least his father hadn’t cast him out.
Like I had.
With a heavy sigh, she wiped the bottle of scotch and set it on the shelf. She missed her family. And she’d missed him. She hadn’t realized it until she’d spoken with him.
I could have had a good life with him.
As he tossed his glass in her direction, she picked it up with a stern glance. “I think you’ve had quite enough, my friend.”
Attempting to stand, he fell to the floor in a heap and moaned. Lina rolled her eyes heavenward with a sigh. Placing her cleaning cloth aside, she traversed the bar. “Dear Lord, what next?”
She ducked under his arm. “Come, Talon. Let’s get you to your room.”
Nodding, he used her stability to rise. His weight forced her knees to buckle as he leaned on her. Touching her hair, he slurred, “You shure look pretty thish—thish tonight.”
Her heart pounded against her chest. Forcing a laugh, she guided him to the bannister. “You’re drunk, sir.” He plodded up the stairs, barely holding onto the handrail. She gripped the back of his shirt. “You must help me. I can’t do this by myself.”
When she’d finally wrangled him to his door, she propped him against the wall. “Where’s the key?”
Digging into his pocket, he produced the metal and proceeded to hand it to her. He pulled it away with a cheeky grin. And chuckled. “Come get it. I dare ya.”
Aye, there he is. Same old Talon.
Irritation swirled through her. Snatching the key from his hand, she unlocked the door. “In you go, you bugger.”
Suddenly, he turned to her and stroked her cheek. Her heart began to race. As he gazed into her eyes, she was transported back to their youth, simpler times she often longed for.
His lips whispered against her ear. “Your eyes are so beautiful, love. They turn emerald green when you’re angry, did you know?”
Lina frowned. Suddenly, his mouth was on hers, his lips coaxing her to participate. Her knees buckled. He held her closer, stroking his tongue around her mouth. She moaned. Twining her arms around his neck, she gave in to the emotions swirling through her body.
He broke the kiss, and she gasped. “Oh, my.”
Closing his eyes, he whispered, “Talia, I love you.”
With a scowl, Lina shoved away from him, the fleeting attraction gone. He crashed to the floor. Gathering her skirts, she stepped over his lifeless form and dragged him into the room by his arm.
“Massa Talon? That you?”
Lina whipped around. As a small colored boy sat up in bed, surprise nearly knocked her over. Surely, Talon wouldn’t keep a slave. He’d hated how the Brits treated their people and often blamed them for this barbaric practice of the colonials. At least he had.
She gestured to the boy for help. “Mr. Barberry had too much to drink.”
Crawling out from the covers, the boy padded across the floor in his nightshirt and helped Lina get Talon into bed. “No worries, ma’am. I’s know how to handle him.”
Talon rolled over. “Talia, please don’t leave me.” Burying his head beneath the blankets, he began to snore.
The boy’s eyes widened. “Sorry, ma’am. Massa don’t drink very often.”
“No need for apologies. Talon and I have been friends for a long time.” She arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t know he owned slaves.”
The boy squinted at her. “How you know him?”
“We grew up together in England.”
“Can I’s tell you a secret?” She raised her brow. He looked around conspiratorially and whispered, “I’s not his slave. I’s gonna be his son when ’dis is finished.”
Lina smiled at the precocious child. “How old are you?”
“Marcus, ma’am.”
“Marcus, how old?”
“Ten.”
She frowned. He was only a few years older than Arden and Antonia. His accent didn’t sound like any Islander she’d met. “You’re not from here.”
“I’s born in N’awlins, ma’am. My firs’ massa made me serve on board his ship ’til Massa Talon killed him.” Lina clasped a hand to her mouth, but Marcus waved her off. “He was evil. ’Sides, I likes my Talon. He a good man.”
Indeed, he is.
Sighing, she went to the door. “I’ll bring a fresh pitcher of water. Be sure he drinks it.”
“Yes’m.” Wringing his hands in his oversized shirt, he gazed at her through lowered lashes. “Promise not to tell anyone our secret?”
Smiling, she patted his head. No wonder Talon wanted to save this boy. It was hard not to like him. “I swear it, lad. Now, off to bed.”
“Yes,’m.” He closed the door to their room.
Taking a deep breath, Lina closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, attempting to gain control of her senses. Confusion settled in her heart.
Why couldn’t she have made different choices? This evening, while reminiscing with Talon about their carefree childhood antics, it felt right. His sensuous kiss would be etched in her mind forever. No man had ever curled her toes like that, not even Robert. It had been so long since she’d felt a loving touch...
Tingles danced around her lips as she remembered her first kiss. And Talon’s. A summer of innocence was lost as they’d followed her sister Holly sneaking to the brook with one of Talon’s older cousins.
––––––––
“TALON, HOLLY IS MEETING Pira again.”
Throwing his fishing pole aside, Talon sighed. “You wanna follow them?”
“Yes. I gotta know what they do.”
He shook his head. “You’re too curious, Lina. Why do you care?”
She stuffed her hands on her hips. “Because I’m sure they aren’t just gathering berries. Bring your pole. That’ll be our excuse in case they catch us.”
Talon’s brown eyes sparkled, and he grabbed her hand. “Fine. Let’s go.”
They hid amongst the tall grasses as Holly and Pira crossed the river to a wooden lean-to and settled beneath the shelter. At first, the lovers just talked. After an hour of sitting on their haunches, Talon grabbed his fishing pole and stood.
“I’m leaving. This is boring.”
Lina grabbed his hand. “Wait!”
Suddenly, Pira kissed Holly.
Talon swallowed. “Er, I’m not sure we should be —.”
“Sit!” Lina pulled Talon down, transfixed. Warmth gathered at Lina’s thighs as Holly and Pira removed their clothing. They kissed. They touched. And as the lovers finished, Lina trembled, her body humming with unknown emotions. Silence surrounded them as she wrapped her arms around her knees.
Talon stared at the river with a bizarre look plastered across his face. He sank lower into the weeds. Swallowing hard, Lina broke the silence. “They kissed...” Talon grunted, and she placed her hand on his. “They were naked. He touched her, and they—”
Talon glanced away from her. “We shouldn’t have watched them.”
He went to stand, but she refused to let him leave. “Is that what grown-ups do? Will we do that when we’re married?”
“I-I don’t know,” Talon said blankly.
“I wonder what it feels like.” Lina gazed at him. “Do you want to try it?”
Talon’s eyes widened as he clenched his fists. “Are you daft?”
“Just the kissing,” she said quickly.
Glancing over the weeds, Talon sank to his haunches. “I guess we could. Just once.”
They turned toward one another. He bent his head awkwardly. Then, he placed his mouth on hers. His lips hardly moved. After a moment, he licked her lips like Pira had done with Holly.
Lina pushed him away. “Eww! That’s disgusting.” She pointed to the bulge at his trousers. “What’s wrong with you?”
Blushing, Talon opened his mouth. He didn’t make a sound. In a trice, he burst up and ran away.
––––––––
TEARS FILLED LINA’S eyes as she returned to the present. They’d both grown up that day. And from then on, his attitude toward her changed. They never ran off together again nor had they shared the camaraderie like they had as children. When she’d tried to talk to him, he made every excuse to avoid her.
Unfortunately, that incident and the distance he’d put between them had ruined their friendship—and their future. Watching her sister’s escapade had fueled her own desires, and after a few years of Talon’s silence, she went looking for another.
Leaning against the wall, she swallowed the emotions flooding through her. It was a mistake. She should have stayed in England. Talon would have been a good husband. He was a kind, upstanding man who would have given her all the devotion in the world.
And she could have fallen in love with him. Perhaps if she would have forced him to talk to her, she wouldn’t have wasted the last several years of her life with a worthless gadjo.
Now, it was too late.
*****
GRASPING HIS TEMPLES, Talon awoke with a groan. Pain shot through his throbbing head like the hoofs of three steeds. “What in the bloody hell happened?”
“Mornin’ sah! I’s get the shuttahs for you.” Marcus sprang up and flung the two large louvers open.
“Dear God, lad, don’t—” Talon clamped a hand over his eyes as the bright light streamed through the window. The pain intensified, and he buried his head in the pillow.
Oh Lord, kill me now.
Marcus laughed. “You’s had too much whiskey las’ night. Maybe you ain’ used to the drink, sah.”
“Enough. Just help me up, son.”
The boy helped him dress. As he caught a glimpse of Talia’s letter on the bureau, the details of the previous evening returned. His mood soured.
The love of his life had left him. And Lafitte went with her. He didn’t remember much after that as he’d been in his cups ever since.
What about Lina?
He bolted up. “I was with Miss Lina last night?” He’d poured her heart out to her. He vaguely remembered her helping him to his room. Had he kissed her? Or worse?
“Yep. She done brought you back real late. Said you drank too much.”
“But you put me to bed, right?”
The boy grinned. “Yes, sah. No worries, you did right by her.”
Relief washed through Talon. “Good lad.” The last thing he needed was to be unfaithful to Talia, even if they weren’t betrothed.
As he threw the rest of his clothing in the empty trunk, the familiar ache of losing her pierced his heart. “Damn the woman. She even took my favorite hat.” Gazing out at the tropical trees that swayed in the breeze, he muttered a curse.
Why couldn’t he get her emerald gaze out of his mind? She’d said she loved him. Then why did she abandon him? Nay, he hadn’t returned the sentiment, but after talking with Rousseau, he had every intention of doing so. He just hadn’t worked up the courage.
Mayhap I should have done it sooner.
Stroking his scruffy chin, Talon groaned. “Jesus, I’m a right bastard.”
Marcus grabbed one end of the trunk. “Sah, we betta’ go. The boat’s gonna leave soon.”
Sighing, Talon stuffed the oversized hat on his head. Hopefully, Rousseau had some words of wisdom. “Leave that for now. We’ll talk to the captain. He needs to know Talia isn’t with us. This changes things.”
As they strode to the docks, he cursed his cowardice. If Talia knew how he felt, they’d be boarding the Winged Runner together, her lithe form snuggled against his hip.
Fitz greeted him heartily from atop the quarterdeck as he ascended the gangplank. “Halo, Master Talon. Beautiful morning, aye?”
Scowling, Talon shushed him with a hiss. “Are you daft, man? I’m supposed to be dead.”
The first mate held out his hand sheepishly. “Sorry, chap. Where’s Miss Montrose?”
Talon pressed his lips together. “She isn’t coming. I need to talk to Jean-Jacques.”
Lines creased Fitz’ forehead and he nodded. “You have the helm, second.” The man led Talon and Marcus to the captain’s cabin and smiled at the boy. “Come along, Marcus. Want to be my assistant?” Marcus’ eyes lit up. As he and Fitz took their leave, Talon gave the man a grateful smile.
He knocked on the door. Rousseau granted permission for him to enter, and he burst in. Jean-Jacques rose from his desk, his brow drawn down. “Dieu, what is going on? Where’s Talia?”
Talon couldn’t speak. His tongue bobbed at the back of his throat, the emotional turmoil choking him. Nothing would come. Sinking into the chair, he held his head in his hands, despair filling his heart. He handed the letter to Rousseau. “She left with Lafitte.”
Perusing the missive, the captain passed it back to Talon, cursing under his breath. “Merde. It has only been a day. Lafitte said he was going to see DuPont, and you and Talia were going to shop for provisions. What happened?”
Talon held his palms up. “I have no clue. Lafitte took us to this dodgy inn off the main street. I wanted to treat Talia to a romantic dinner, so she went to freshen up. I meant to clean up as well, but I discovered the cook at the inn was my former betrothed. We sat for a cup of coffee for a spell and then—”
Rousseau held up his hand, cutting off Talon’s rambling. “Did you say your betrothed? And Talia was perfectly fine when you left her in her room?”
Talon’s eyes narrowed. “She must have seen me with her.”
The captain squinted at him suspiciously. “Why? Did something happen that shouldn’t have?”
“Nay! Lina and I had coffee and talked. I might have hugged her, but she was merely relaying her bad fortune. We hadn’t seen each other in years. She’s a friend, no more.” Dread enveloped his soul. What if Talia had gotten the wrong impression? “Dear God, I’ve lost her, haven’t I?”
Rousseau shook his head irritably. “Non, Monsieur, but we must fix this.” He pushed away from his desk. “That rapscallion Lafitte is worthless. I wish she would have come to me first.”
Talon stood. He’d be damned if he’d let an upstart like Lafitte steal the love of his life. “I have to find her, Rousseau. I love Talia more than life itself. I never got the chance to tell her.”
Rousseau clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, mon ami. We’ll find her. Lafitte isn’t nearly as smart as he thinks. Most likely, they found another vessel to Nouvelle Orleans.”
“What about our marque? That was his job, remember?”
Rousseau chewed on the end of his pipe. “It isn’t the first time this pirate has sailed without proper authority. Come, we need to leave.”
“I have to gather our things from the inn. I’ll return within the hour.”
“And no more.” Jean-Jacques shook Talon’s hand.
Racing back to the inn, Talon packed the rest of their belongings. He made the bed and grabbed the trunk, locking the door behind him.
“Talon!” Lina called from the floor below. “You’re leaving?”
“Aye. Within the hour. We need to follow Talia.”
He hit the landing, and Lina threw herself into his arms. Her eyes shimmered with tears. Glancing over his shoulder, she whispered, “Please take us with you. I hate it here. This might be the only chance we have to escape.”
Placing space between them, Talon hesitated. Hadn’t he screwed things up already? “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“I have some savings. You can have all of it for transport. I need to get my children away from this hell. I beg you.” Desperation flooded her eyes.
Talon sighed as Carlos’ words echoed through his mind. You are Romani, remember that. His brother was right. He couldn’t leave Lina or her children behind.
He sighed. “Can you be packed within the hour? Captain Rousseau will leave without us, I assure you.”
Her brown eyes lit up. “Aye, thank you.”
“I’ll wait for you. You’ll have to leave most of your things. One trunk for the three of you, that’s it.”
“We don’t have much anyway.” As she hurried off, Talon pulled the key from his pocket and placed it on the counter with a few coins. Where in the world was the landlady? Gazing around, he saw nobody of interest, so he went to the bar and poured himself a drink to calm his nerves.
After several minutes of imbibing, he spotted a boy with tanned skin and brown curls darting out from a large tropical plant placed near the settee. Upon closer inspection, Talon chuckled. The child had fashioned a piece of black linen over his eye to resemble a patch. A red pirate kerchief covered his unruly hair.
As he approached Talon conspiratorially, he cocked his head, his childish voice morphing into pirate speak. “Aye, an’ who might ye be, matey?”
Folding his arms, Talon gazed down at the boy in mock authority. “I be Cap’n Talon. Who you be, son?”
“Private Arden. Mama says we’re going to sail. Will we find treasure and cut down those blasted Spaniards?”
Talon burst out laughing at the boy’s curse. “Almost certainly, lad.”
A small, shy girl carrying a worn doll and a book in her hands pushed through the kitchen doors. Her curls bobbed as she approached them cautiously. “You’re such a child, Arden. We are not going aboard a pirate vessel.” Ignoring Talon, she sat in a distant chair and opened her book.
Talon sat at her table uninvited. “Might I have your name, Miss?”
The girl looked up. Arching her thin brow, she stated, “Mama told me not to talk to strangers.”
Nostalgia filtered through him. With her dark hair drawn back in a simple ribbon and her large doe eyes scrutinizing everything around her, the girl reminded him of Lina’s sister, Holly. As a child, Holly had been bookish, as well.
“That’s Antonia,” Arden piped up.
Talon winked at the boy. “We aren’t exactly strangers. I’ve known your Mama since we were children.”
Placing her book aside, Antonia looked at him with wide eyes. “You are Romani, too?”
“Aye. Your mother and I were splendid friends. Our clans often traveled together.”
Glancing around, she placed her finger to her lips. “We aren’t supposed to tell anyone we’re Romani.”
Talon frowned. “Why the hell not?”
The girl raised her eyebrow, apparently admonishing his curse. “Mama says people treat the Romani like slaves and we need to keep quiet about our family or we might be taken. Our father is a white man, so most people believe we’re Spanish.”
Talon flinched. The irony that he was pretending to be a Spaniard wasn’t lost upon him. Crossing his arms, he gazed at her sternly. “You should be proud of your heritage, young lady.”
“I am, but Mama insists we pretend. It’s just a game.” The girl shrugged.
Bursting through the doors at the back of the inn, Lina dragged a small, worn trunk across the wood floor. She swept her mussed hair out of her eyes. “Arden, help me. Now.” The boy grabbed one end of the trunk from his mother. She smiled at Talon. “I can’t thank you enough. I am so happy we’re leaving this dump.”
“What about Mrs. Arnold?”
Lina rolled her eyes. “She’s having a lying-in, I’m sure. Who do you think did all the work? I’ve left her a note. She’ll find some other parlor wench, believe me.”
As the clock on the top shelf of the mirror chimed, Talon set his effects on top of hers and grabbed the side Lina held. “Come, lad. We need to leave.”
As Arden helped Talon maneuver their trunks along the busy streets, Lina kept him company. They approached the wharf, and the children scampered up the gangplank of the Winged Runner, darting past Fitzpatrick.
The man growled. “What in God’s name is this, Barberry? More kids?”
Marcus stuck his head out from under one of the tarps on the deck and scampered to Talon’s side. A huge smile lit up his face. Talon grimaced. “Fitz, this is Lina Dapres... er—?” He looked to her for help.
Her eyes sparkled as they settled on him. “That’s fine. I no longer claim my married name.”
Talon cleared his throat. “Quite. This is my childhood friend Lina and her children, Arden and Antonia. Can we get them to New Orleans? She’s willing to pay for transport.”
Fitz sighed. “The captain is going to shite, mate.”
Lina stepped forward. “Please, sir. I can cook. And clean. I’ve got plenty of experience in the kitchen.”
Removing his hat, the man cleared his throat. “Pardon, ma’am. Patrick Fitzpatrick, first mate.”
Her deep laugh filled the deck. “Patrick Fitzpatrick?”
Chuckling, the man reached for her hand and pecked it gently. “Me mother’s wrath. It follows me everywhere.”
Lina squinted at his strawberry blond hair. “You have a bit of Irish in you, it seems, Mr. Fitzpatrick.
“Yes, ma’am. Me Pap was direct from Dublin.”
Breaking their interlude, Talon tugged her trunk forward. “Shall we put this in the guest cabin?”
Fitz hauled Talon’s trunk to the side and pointed to a lanky lad no more than five and twenty manning the main sails. “Mr. Peters and I oversee the everyday running of the ship. If you need anything at all, let me know. I’ll see to it personally.”
A crimson blush stole across Lina’s cheeks. “Thank you. Where have my children gone?”
Talon pointed to the boy and girl standing near the quarterdeck, conversing with Marcus jovially. Talon grinned. “This will be good for Marcus. He’ll enjoy having company his age.”
Linking her arm with his, Lina gazed at him. “The boy told me what you did for him.” She squeezed his hand. “You’re a good man, Talon Barberry.”
Talon murmured a curse under his breath as the crew stared at them. Not surprising since the last woman he’d been seen with was Talia. The last thing he needed were wagging tongues.
Pulling away from her, he gathered her things and escorted her to the cabin Talia had used on their trip into Guadeloupe. “It isn’t a large space, but hopefully this will accommodate you and your children for a spell.”
As he placed the small chest on the floor, he spotted the mussed bed, the remnants of his last tryst with Talia evident. A pang of loneliness coursed through his body. Where in God’s name was she?
Lina cleared her throat. “This is perfect.” She wove her fingers through his. “Thank you for your help, Talon.”
Untangling her grip, he stepped away from her. “You’re welcome. What are friends for?”
The corners of her mouth dropped, and the sparkle in her eyes dissipated. “Indeed.”
Tipping his hat, he took his leave. It would do no good to lead Lina on. He had every intention of finding Talia. “And this time, I’m going to marry her.” The pain of losing her was too much to bear, and he’d be damned if he loused it up again.
*****
“TALIA? I’VE BROUGHT breakfast.”
Balancing a tray on his arm, Alex knocked on Talia’s cabin door. He was concerned about her. They’d been at sea a week, and she’d hardly left her quarters. She cried every night, and she hardly ate. She was becoming too skinny.
He banged harder. “Talia Montrose! You are going to eat. You’re my responsibility, and I’ll be damned if I lose you on this trip.”
Talia slowly opened the door, her eyes puffy and red and her hair a tousled mess. An ivory silk robe covered her body as she wrapped her arms around her waist. It looked like she’d just woken. “Go away, Alex. I’m not hungry.”
Pushing his way through the door, he set the food on the table near her bed. “It’s noon, and you’re still sleeping? Come, ma cherie. You must consume something. I’m worried about you.” Crossing his arms, he plopped onto the settee, kicked up his feet, and linked his hands around the back of his head. “In fact, I’m not leaving until I see you properly nourished.”
Groaning, she sat at the table. “Bon.” Slowly, she sipped the soup and nibbled the bread. To Alex’s delight, she managed to eat most of the meal. “Is that satisfactory?”
“I’m not your enemy. I’m just looking out for you. We used to be best friends, remember?”
She sniffled. “That was a long time ago, Alex. I’ve grown up. I don’t need your advice nor do I deserve your pity.”
“I don’t. I’m angry for you,” he retorted. “Talon Barberry shamed you. I’m going to give that gamin a piece of my fist when I see him next.”
She stood and returned to her bed. “I will not discuss my relationship with Talon. It’s over. He made that quite clear.”
Alex scowled. “What did he say to you?”
“He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.”
“What does that mean?” He narrowed his eyes. “Talia, tell me you didn’t cast that man out without speaking to him first.” As she turned away from him, Alex grabbed her hands. “Merde, woman. Barberry catered to your every whim. He followed you and protected you. His jealousy was evident. Despite what you believe, that man loves you.”
Her lips quivered. “Then why couldn’t he tell me so?”
Alex went to her quietly, holding out his arms. She accepted, sobbing upon his shoulder. “It seems you’re the only person who can’t see his true feelings.”
Burying her head in his shirt, Talia soughed. “I saw him with another woman.”
Alex frowned. “What woman?”
“The cook at the inn.”
Alex laughed incredulously. “Mrs. Corning? How do you know her?”
“I don’t. Apparently, Talon does. I think they grew up together. I overheard them talking. They belong to the same village or something. He’s a Roman, and that woman is his long-lost love.” She wiped the tears away with the collar of her robe and pushed out of his arms. “He hugged her and kissed her. It’s obvious he still cares about her. What if they’re still betrothed?”
Rubbing his temples, Alex tried to take in that information. “Barberry is Roman? I thought he was English of Spanish descent. Now you’re telling me he’s Italian?”
Talia wrinkled her nose. “He tried to explain it once, but it’s very confusing. However, he was supposed to wed that woman. She ran away with another man. Talon said she broke his heart.”
Alex scoffed. “And you think he’s stupid enough to return to a woman who left him before they married? You aren’t making sense.”
“Your ire isn’t helping.” Talia returned to her pillow, crying piteously.
He frowned. He’d never seen her in such hysterics. Usually, she saved the dramatics for their undercover work.
Sitting next to her on the bed, he sighed. “It seems you’re the one acting childish, ma cherie. You left the man without warning. Why didn’t you confront him?”
“I did,” she retorted. “Didn’t I leave a message?”
Alex hummed sarcastically. “Oui, you fired the man you love in a letter. I wouldn’t be outraged at all.”
Raising her head, she gasped. A hiccup escaping her lips. “C’est vrai, I shouldn’t have done that. But I didn’t know what else to do. And now, we’re halfway home...”
Her robe came open at the top, bearing her silk chemise. Her skin was pale. With wide eyes, she quickly clutched the gown to her chest.
Alex scrutinized her suspiciously. “You’re ill!”
She pushed him away. “I’m exhausted, Alex. I’m just going to rest.” She laid back on the mattress. As she tucked her feet under the covers, the bedclothes shifted upward, uncovering a basin hidden near the rails.
Storming up, Alex pulled the sheets from her bed and examined the vomit-filled vessel. “Merde. I’m going to find the ship’s doctor.”
“Non, please, I’m just seasick.”
Her sobs followed him as he stalked out of the cabin.
––––––––
AN HOUR LATER, THE ship’s physician, Dr. Barron, was at Talia’s bedside. He’d given her a special tea to help her sleep. As she closed her eyes, the doctor silently motioned to speak to Alex in the hall.
Alex wrung his hands. “What does she have? Is it catching?”
The man chuckled. “Not in the least. Madame Montrose is enceinte.”
Dread rippled through Alex. A baby? “Non!”
“Oui. She cannot tell me exactly when she conceived, but apparently, she missed her courses.” The old man stood. “She isn’t handling this well, so I suggest she rest, sir. I take it this wasn’t planned?”
Alex’s stomach roiled as he rubbed his temples. “Not at all.”
“I thought as much. She wanted me to keep this from you.”
Alex burst up. “She knew about this?”
The doctor frowned. “When we moor at New Orleans, have her checked by a physician, just to be safe. Be sure she eats and drinks. She’ll need her strength to get through this voyage.” Dr. Barron latched his bag and held out his hand. “Congratulations, Mr. Montrose. You’re going to be a father.”
Alex sucked in a sharp breath. Dieu, he thinks I’m...!
Returning the man’s gesture, he sighed. “Merci, Doctor.”
As the man took his leave, Alex quietly entered Talia’s room and sat on the settee as she slept. He couldn’t believe it. Talia Montrose, his best friend and the love of his life, was going to have another man’s baby.
A mixture of disappointment and sadness filtered through him. He hadn’t realized she and Talon had been so intimate. Alex had spent his entire life hoping that she’d finally see him as a man. But now?
He couldn’t compete with this. Placing his head in his hands, Alex pursed his lips. “This complicates matters.”