Nicole Jordan (39 page)

Aurora knew the way, for she’d spent many a pleasant hour in the March library. But it was better for her to be announced, to allow Geoffrey time to prepare himself—and time for herself to bring her own emotions under control.

Several minutes passed before she found herself at the library door, her heart beating painfully. Geoffrey stood at the window, his back to her. The right sleeve of his jacket was pinned up nearly to the shoulder.

“Geoffrey?” she said quietly.

He turned slowly to meet her gaze. Her first reaction was one of shock as they stared at each other across the room. His beloved face was lined with pain, and he was far thinner than before. But he gave her the same gentle smile.

It was all Aurora could do to hold back the ache of tears in her throat. She managed a smile, however, as she crossed to him. Needing to touch him, to feel that he was truly alive, she reached up to put her arms around him. “Welcome home,” she said simply, pressing her face into his shoulder.

She held him that way in an embrace that was comforting rather than carnal. Hesitantly his one good arm slid around her shoulders to draw her closer.

After a moment, Geoffrey gave a soft laugh. “I should have realized you would know precisely the right thing to say.”

Aurora drew back, searching his face. “I am so very glad to see you. I’ve missed you unbelievably.”

His handsome mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “I fear I cannot express the same sentiment…About missing you, I mean. Until a few weeks ago, I had no memory of my past life. Only images…” He reached up to touch her cheek. “I saw your beautiful face, Aurora, but I never knew why. It was only when Wycliff found me that the images became stronger. I think he must have jogged something loose in my mind, for I’ve slowly been regaining my memory since then.”

“Wycliff? The Earl of Wycliff found you in France?”

“Yes, Lucian rescued me. In truth, I owe you both a debt of gratitude. It’s because of you that he spent the last two months scouring the French countryside, searching for me.”

Aurora frowned, wondering what the earl would be doing in France when the two countries had been at war for years. “How is that possible? How could Wycliff avoid capture by Napoleon’s forces for that long a period?”

“He was in disguise, actually.”

“Disguise?”

Geoffrey looked ill at ease. “Aurora, I will tell you something in confidence. Wycliff is actually a spy. A damned good one, I understand.”

“Spy?” She stared, suddenly remembering the wild tales his younger brother had told her about Geoffrey. “Harry claimed you were engaged in spying,” she said slowly, “but I thought he was simply fabricating a fantasy.”

Geoffrey hesitated a long moment. “I was on a mission for England when my ship went down.”

Startled, she eyed him with disbelief. “I never understood why you were sailing so near the French coast. You were
spying
?”

“Not precisely. Nothing like what Wycliff’s agents do. I had only to break the secret codes of various dispatches. I’ve always been good with ciphers and puzzles, you know.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. Harry learned about it only because he eavesdropped on a conversation.” Geoffrey frowned. “He should never have mentioned it, for he was sworn to secrecy.”

“I would indeed have worried.” Aurora shook her head, still not quite believing what she was hearing. “I cannot understand why you would become involved in something so dangerous.”

“Why?” His smile was fleeting. “Because I finally had a chance to make a worthwhile contribution, Aurora. I have been bookish all my life, but that doesn’t mean I never had a secret yearning to slay dragons, to reach beyond the confining boundaries of my rank and social position. I wanted in some small way to help in the fight against Napoleon, to save the world from his tyranny. Even now, I would do it again.”

“Even at the risk of your life?”

“The risk was not supposed to be very great. I was merely to meet a courier in France and pick up the dispatches—but then my ship encountered a storm. The next thing I knew, I was waking on a straw pallet in a barn, with no idea of who I was. I spent most of the last year as a man with no name or past.”

She reached up to smooth a lock of his fair hair back from his forehead that was etched with pain. “But your memory has returned now?”

“Not completely. Each day something new comes to me. Aurora, I am not the same man you knew…. I still suffer excruciating headaches, and I walk with a limp, besides losing my arm….”

Her heart ached for him. “Geoffrey, I am so sorry.”

“I don’t want your pity, Aurora. I survived, while many good men did not—my crew included.”

“Then I won’t give you pity. But I can offer sympathy, can I not?”

He smiled faintly. “I suppose so.” Then his smile slowly faded as he seemed to notice her black gown for the first time. “I understand you were wed while I was away. To Wycliff’s notorious American cousin.”

She felt her throat suddenly tighten. “Geoffrey…I don’t know quite what to say. My only excuse is that my father…He was pressing me to marry, and…well, I’m sorry. If I’d had any inkling you might still be alive, I would never have left England with Percy and Jane.”

“Mother says you told her your marriage was made under duress.”

“That’s true. I desperately wanted to avoid marriage to Halford, and my father was adamant….”

“I understand, Aurora. It would be difficult for you to defy your father’s wishes. So you married a condemned criminal to escape his choice of husband?”

“Yes. The marriage was expected to last only a day or two at most.”

“I understand you were widowed immediately afterward.”

Aurora hesitated. This was the moment she had dreaded. How could she tell Geoffrey that her husband hadn’t died? That she was still legally wed to another man? That she had just spent the most incredible two weeks of her life indulging her most passionate fantasies with her lover? That she was considering leaving England altogether to be someone else’s wife?

She stared at Geoffrey as guilt raked her with razor-sharp claws. She had loved this man for most of her life. He was a dear, dear friend, and he had come close to death. He was injured, still suffering…. She couldn’t deal him another blow by disclosing the truth so soon after he had just reclaimed his life.

And what of Nicholas? How could she divulge his existence without putting him in danger? She couldn’t be certain how Geoffrey would react. If he loved his country so much that he would spy, what would he do upon learning that a convicted pirate was here on English soil, thumbing his nose at the British government? Particularly a pirate who was wed to the woman Geoffrey himself had been engaged to marry?

Exposing Nicholas now could very well mean his death. She had to protect him for as long as possible, until he was safely out of the country. She had to conceal the fact that he was here now, that she had seen him, been with him.

“Geoffrey, there is something I must tell you,” she said slowly, knowing she had to walk a fine line between truth and lies. “I have recently received word…Percy wrote to tell me that…my husband escaped hanging. Nicholas Sabine is still alive.”

He stared at her a long moment before understanding dawned on his face. “You are still wed to a
pirate
?”

“So it would seem.”

“That cannot be,” he responded with unexpected fierceness. When she made no reply, he scowled. “Can the marriage be annulled? There must be adequate grounds.”

Aurora regarded Geoffrey quizzically. “Perhaps, but I doubt it would be easy.”

“We must make it happen.” Grimness had seized his features. “The marriage cannot be allowed to stand. You cannot remain wedded to a criminal.”

His reaction wasn’t quite what she had expected, but she should have realized Geoffrey would want to protect her.

“You can be assured I will stand by you, Aurora,” Geoffrey vowed. “There is certain to be a scandal when the truth comes out, but I will not allow you to face it alone.”

She couldn’t dispute that a scandal was likely, Aurora reflected.

When she remained silent, Geoffrey searched her face. “Mother expects our marriage to take place shortly, but this complicates matters. But once an annulment is granted…I want you to know, Aurora, if you wish for our marriage to go forward, I…would be honored to be your husband.”

She felt a pang of dismay. “Geoffrey, you don’t have to make such a sacrifice for my sake.”

His expression suddenly grew cool. “Perhaps it would be a sacrifice for you rather than me. It would be understandable if you didn’t wish to marry a cripple.”

“Geoffrey, don’t…Please don’t say that. You aren’t a cripple.”

“But neither am I a whole man.”

“Of course you are a whole man. Losing an arm doesn’t make you any less the dear person I’ve always cared for.”

His expression remained strangely solemn.

Then suddenly he shut his eyes and raised his hand to his temple, as if in blinding pain. “These headaches…”

“Perhaps you should sit down,” she said urgently, putting an arm around his waist.

“Yes.” He allowed her to assist him over to a chair and sank down heavily.

“If you don’t mind…I would like to rest.” He sounded short of breath. “My stamina…fades after a very short time and leaves me weak as a mouse.”

“Yes, of course. I will let you be alone. May I fetch you something before I go? A cool compress? Some wine? Laudanum?”

“Thank you, no. Laudanum only fogs my mind more.”

“Very well, then…”

Before she could turn away, though, he took her hand in his, gazing up at her with his blue eyes. “I won’t desert you, Aurora.”

“Thank you, Geoffrey,” she barely whispered. “But please…don’t worry about this. Just concentrate on getting well. We can settle our future when you are feeling better.”

Nodding, he leaned his head back and shut his eyes. With all her heart, Aurora wished there was something more she could do to comfort him.

Leaving the library, she walked slowly down the hall, dimly aware of a sweeping sense of desolation. She couldn’t abandon Geoffrey now, she knew. It would be a final betrayal. No matter what her feelings were for Nicholas, she couldn’t simply walk away from her childhood friend to start a new life in America with another man. She couldn’t hurt Geoffrey that way. She would have to remain in England. She would have to ask Nicholas to seek an annulment….

She was so preoccupied with her bleak thoughts that she didn’t hear Harry racing down the stairs until he was almost upon her.

“Rory! Rory!” Ignoring her start, he came to a skidding halt on the checkered tile floor and flung his arms around her joyously. “Can you believe the glad news? Geoffrey is alive! Now you will be my sister and you will live with us and we can ride together every day.”

Aurora managed a faint smile, but inside, she was aching. She had thought her choice was difficult before, but now, no matter what her decision, she would hurt one of the two men who claimed to love her.

“You have the Devil’s own luck, Nick,” Lucian Tremayne, Earl of Wycliff, said with amusement. “When I returned to London three days ago and read your message, saying you were alive and had assumed Brand’s identity…well, I don’t recall ever receiving a more pleasant shock. I can still scarcely believe my eyes. To think, even the British navy couldn’t kill you.”

“It was a near thing,” Nicholas replied soberly as he stared down into his brandy glass.

“I regret I was out of the country when you arrived in England.”

Nick shrugged. “I’ll forgive you, Luce, if you’ll forgive me for commandeering one of your schooners.”

“Don’t mention it. You would have done the same for me, had I found myself facing the hangman. We held a memorial service in your honor, were you aware? I invited half the ton and made all my stuffy relatives attend. Solely for appearance’s sake, you understand. A public show of support for your widow. Now I’m sorry I went to all that expense for naught.”

Hearing the affection in his cousin’s jest, Nick glanced up. Lucian was tall and lithely built, with dark, curling hair and lean, aristocratic features that were barely saved from arrogance by a ready half smile. Usually Nicholas enjoyed their male camaraderie. In this instance, however, he was in no mood to match wits with Lucian or endure his cousin’s good-natured ribbing.

Setting down his brandy glass, he rose and went to stand at the French window, staring out. By now Aurora would have spoken to her former betrothed. Had she come to any decision? It was possible—even likely—that seeing March again could sway her….

Nicholas clenched his fists as tension raced through his veins like fire. He needed every ounce of control he possessed to clamp down on the turmoil of emotions inside him: jealousy, anger, fear…. In agitation, he turned to pace the carpet of his cousin’s study once again.

“What is making you so on edge?” Lucian asked finally. “You’re acting like a caged tiger. If I had to guess, I would say you are having woman trouble.”

“You could say that,” Nick answered tersely.

“Your wife, I take it?”

He paused long enough to rake a hand through his hair. “Aurora never wanted our marriage, but now that we’re wed…I’ve asked her to return to America with me. She was leaning in my favor when she learned March had risen from the grave—” He pinned Lucian with a dark glance. “I can’t believe you are the one who found March. Whatever made you search for him in the first place? Was he working for you?”

“Not directly, no. He was decoding enemy dispatches for the Foreign Office, but we never crossed paths professionally. I only learned the particulars about his disappearance at sea after I began helping Lady Aurora become established as your widow. Then on my last trip to France, I heard a rumor…. Reportedly a fair-haired Englishman had been badly injured in a shipwreck and was in hiding near the coast. It seemed logical to wonder if it could possibly be March, since his body was never found—although I couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t come forward. My best guess was that his memory had been impaired, and that turned out to be right. I’m sorry his return has proven such an inconvenience for you.”