Nicole Jordan (34 page)

Aurora raised a hand to her forehead, rubbing it distractedly. “I cannot leave London just now. What about Harry? What of Raven?”

He couldn’t condemn her fierce streak of loyalty. Aurora was passionately dedicated to the people she cared for; it was one of the things he loved about her.

“Raven will do well enough on her own,” Nicholas answered truthfully. “And I will deal with Harry. After his hazardous encounter tonight, I doubt he’ll be eager to strike out on his own again. And I intend to make very certain he realizes that a seafaring life is not the glamorous adventure he’s dreamed of. I wouldn’t be surprised if he decides very soon to return home to his mama.”

“I cannot leave him here, Nicholas.”

“I promise that won’t be necessary. What other objections do you have?”

She had a great number of objections, Aurora thought. The chief of which was Nicholas himself. He was a risk beyond anything she’d ever imagined. He threatened everything she had ever known of safety or sense. The emotions he created in her were intense and terrifying, as was his fierce, consuming passion….

But if she refused to go with him? She would be letting her fear rule her. She would be acting the coward, just as he’d accused her of doing. She didn’t want to live her life in fear.

Worse, if he remained in London and was discovered, he would be arrested and hanged. Sweet heaven, she couldn’t bear it if he were to die. At least away from London he would be safer….

Did she dare agree to what he was asking of her? Did she have any choice?

She stared back at him, caught in the spell of his intense gaze. Two weeks. A handful of days, alone with Nicholas. They would be lovers. It would be paradise; it would be torment.

Could she possibly manage to keep her emotional defenses intact for so long? Two weeks would seem an eternity. And the enforced intimacy would only bring her greater agony when they had to part.

But if she could endure it, he would leave England and return to America for good. Aurora swallowed the sudden ache in her throat. Wasn’t that what she desperately wanted? To be free of Nicholas and his overwhelming passion?

She forced away the sharp feeling of desolation that thought engendered. She wanted desperately for him to go, before he tore her heart to shreds….

“Will you give me that chance, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice soft as velvet. “Will you come with me?”

“Yes,” Aurora whispered, gazing down at Nicholas. “I will come.”

There was such fire in his eyes that her heart stopped. Unable to bear that look, Aurora shut her own eyes, hoping with all her might that she was not making a dreadful mistake.

PART III

A Passion of the Heart

Chapter Nineteen

“How much longer till we arrive?” Harry asked for the third time, twisting in his seat to look out the coach window at the Sussex countryside.

Aurora couldn’t help but smile at the boy’s eagerness to be home. They had been traveling only a few hours since leaving London early that morning, but Harry could scarcely contain his impatience. “Not long.”

“You will speak to Mama, will you not, Rory? You won’t let her scold?”

“Yes, of course. I promised I would. But I don’t think you need worry. She will be too relieved to have you safely home to do much scolding.”

Just then Harry spied Nicholas, who rode beside the carriage. “I wish I could have ridden like Mr. Deverill, instead of being shut up in this carriage.”

“You said your ribs were still too tender to endure such a long ride on horseback, remember?”

The boy shuddered, as if recalling his ordeal—a reaction that Aurora noted with silent gratification. After his beating on the quay, Harry had sworn faithfully never to run away again, displaying a sincerity she thought was genuine. And much to her vast relief, two days of sweat and blisters and aching muscles had convinced him that he would not enjoy the hard life of a seaman.

Those two days seemed an eternity to Aurora, but she had promised Nicholas she wouldn’t interfere with his harsh methods. And just as Nicholas predicted, Harry had abandoned his dream of joining the merchant marine, although not happily.

When she gently reminded him that upon reaching his majority, he would be wealthy enough to buy a fleet of his own ships, he had brightened considerably and decided that he would, after all, prefer to spend the intervening years in Sussex with his mama—that he missed her greatly and perhaps her smothering was not really so unendurable.

Aurora was taking the boy home now, while Nicholas provided escort. She, too, wished she could have ridden on the beautiful summer day and avoided the warmth and dust inside the carriage. But not only did she need to keep Harry company, she knew it was wiser to maintain the discreet pretense of Nicholas as a family friend and not advertise their actual plan. Upon delivering Harry to his mama, they would start back toward London but detour to Berkshire, where they would spend a fortnight together, as Aurora had agreed.

Until now she had managed to quell her reservations, but as they moved deeper into the East Sussex countryside of her childhood, she was glad to have Harry’s chatter to distract her from her misgivings and from her feelings of sadness. This was the first time in nearly a year that she had been home. After Geoffrey’s death, she had preferred to live in London, for there it was easier to avoid the painful reminders of her loss. She’d distanced herself even farther when she sailed for the Caribbean with her cousin and his wife.

How her life had changed since then, Aurora reflected pensively. She had been wed and widowed and then unwidowed…. She had become fully a woman, learning carnal knowledge at the hands of an expert lover who was the very opposite of the gentle man she had admired and cared for so much of her life.

This journey home roused sad memories of Geoffrey, and other ones as well.

Aurora stirred uncomfortably. She had tried not to think about her father or the darker feelings he engendered. The March and Eversley estates were close, merely a few miles apart, but she had no reason even to call on the duke, since he had washed his hands of her and banished her from his property.

She couldn’t forget, however, his threat to whip her through the streets if she exceeded the bounds of propriety. And she would soon be exceeding those bounds with a vengeance. Her father would be outraged if he learned of her intention to spend two intimate weeks alone with Nicholas. Even now she was skirting the edge. She had eschewed a maid on the flimsy grounds that the trip was of short duration.

At least one worry was unfounded; she wasn’t with child after her rash intimacies with Nicholas. Her courses had come and gone this past week. And from now on, whenever they were together, they would take the kind of precautions the journal had described.

“So,” she said to Harry, making an attempt at cheerfulness as she drew out a deck of cards from her reticule. “What game shall we play?”

It was nearly an hour later when the coach turned onto the smooth gravel drive of the March estate, and by then Harry was squirming in his seat. His mother, Lady March, came out to meet them as soon as the carriage drew to a halt before the impressive brick mansion.

She embraced her son fervently, then greeted Aurora with almost as much fondness. Lady March had been a friend to Aurora since her mother’s death, and they had shared the sorrow of Geoffrey’s death. With Nicholas watching her, though, she willed herself to shrug off her sadness and made the introductions.

Lady March was effusive in her greeting to Nicholas as well, clasping his hand in gratitude with both of hers. “Harry’s letters have been full of you, Mr. Deverill. I cannot thank you enough.”

“It was nothing, my lady,” Nicholas replied mildly.

“Oh, but it was. Harry has not had a man to guide him in…” She swallowed her sudden tears and pasted on a bright smile. “Will you be staying the night?” she asked Aurora.

“Thank you, but we must be getting back.”

“You must at least have luncheon. And you must tell me all the gossip from London. I rarely get there these days, you know. Come into the house. Harry, you will join us….”

They settled in the drawing room until luncheon was served. Lady March kept Harry at her side, as if afraid he would disappear, but the moment the meal was through, Harry asked to be excused so he could go to the stables and visit his horses, barely waiting for permission before scrambling from his chair.

His mother stopped him from racing out the door, calling him to task for his ungentlemanlike behavior in front of guests.

“Pah, Rory is not a guest, Mama,” Harry declared.

“Nevertheless you will apologize to her and to Mr. Deverill.”

“Beg pardon,” Harry said with an unrepentant grin.

“And I have yet to hear you thank her for her generous hospitality to you these past weeks,” Lady March added sternly.

“Thank you, Rory.” Returning to the table, he gave Aurora a fierce hug, shook Nicholas’s hand, then dashed off.

Shaking her head in exasperation, Lady March sighed. “Sometimes I believe he is a changeling. He is so different from his brother Geoffrey….” She gave a start and glanced at Nicholas. “Now it is my turn to apologize, Mr. Deverill. I don’t mean to be melancholy, but it is hard for a mother to lose a son. Or for a woman to lose her betrothed,” she added, including Aurora in her rueful look.

Nick gave a sympathetic nod, but he wasn’t as sanguine as he appeared. He wasn’t at all happy with this visit, for it stirred up too many memories of his chief rival in Aurora’s mind and heart. She had elevated the late Lord March onto a pedestal, and it would be difficult to knock him off.

He couldn’t fight such a paragon, Nicholas knew. He could only try to make her forget—which he would do his damnedest to make happen if he could ever get her away from here.

Another event occurred, however, to raise more painful memories for Aurora and interfere with the continuation of their journey. They were about to take their leave when Lady March asked Aurora if she had heard from her father lately.

“No,” she replied. “I’m afraid we have not been on the best of terms since my marriage.”

“I understand he isn’t faring too well,” Lady March admitted. “Since you left, he has found it difficult to retain any servants. But I suppose it serves him right since he drove them all away with his vile temper.”

Nicholas saw the fleeting emotions that ran across Aurora’s beautiful face; clearly she was disturbed by what she had heard. She was silent, however, until Nicholas started to hand her into the carriage. Then she touched his arm.

“Before we leave,” she said in a low voice, “I would like to call on my father.”

Nick gave her a narrow look. “What do you expect to accomplish? You can’t really wish to see him after the way he treated you.”

“I don’t
wish
to see him. But he is still my father.”

“And you have an overdeveloped sense of duty,” Nicholas said disapprovingly.

Aurora gave him a rueful smile. “I expect so.”

“You don’t owe him anything, Aurora. He’s forfeited any right to your allegiance.”

“Perhaps he has. But my conscience would always plague me if I left without making certain he is all right. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t wish to.”

“Oh, no,” Nick said with a dangerous smile of his own. “I would very much like the chance to meet the illustrious duke.”

A short while later they arrived at the Eversley estate. The magnificent park had been badly neglected since she had last been there, Aurora saw with dismay. The gravel drive was rutted and unswept, while the unkempt lawns and ragged shrubbery looked a bit wild.

Her stomach was churning as she climbed the front steps with Nicholas, yet facing her father was something she had to do. She knew there was little chance for a reconciliation between them, nor did she really want one. But even though he had disowned her, he was her father, her flesh and blood. Whether he deserved compassion or not, she couldn’t bring herself to turn her back on him. Not without making one last effort. She would never be able to close this chapter of her life, otherwise. She was very glad, however, to have Nicholas at her side.

When he applied the brass knocker, the thud sounded hollow, as if no one was home. Long minutes passed before the door was opened by a footman whose livery was soiled and disheveled. Not recognizing him, Aurora asked to see the duke.

“The duke ain’t ’ome” was the sullen response.

“He is not at home, or he is not receiving visitors?”

“ ’e ain’t receiving.”

“I should like to see him, nonetheless.”

“And ’oo might you ’appen to be?”

Aurora lifted her chin regally, staring the man down. “I might ‘happen’ to be the duke’s daughter, and I wish to speak to my father. You will please tell him I am here.”

He glanced at Nicholas, as if sizing him up. Apparently deciding the visitor was both taller and stronger, the footman scowled and shuffled off.

Aurora glanced around her sadly. “When my mother was alive, this house was beautiful,” she murmured.

She felt Nicholas’s fingers brush her nape, a subtle display of sympathy and support. He didn’t speak, but she felt him lending her strength, and she was grateful.

The servant finally returned. As sullen as ever, he gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “ ’is grace is in ’is study.”

“I know the way,” Aurora said coolly, moving past him.

Her footsteps slowed, however, when she neared the study door. Perhaps she
was
foolish to have come here. She pressed a hand to her stomach, reluctant to face the pain she knew she was about to bring on herself.

Bracing her shoulders, she stepped inside his study.

The sight of him was more shocking than she expected, even after Lady March’s warning. The once noble Duke of Eversley was sprawled in a chair, his clothing as unkempt as his disreputable footman’s, his blue eyes bleary and bloodshot as he scowled at her.