Nicole Jordan (21 page)

“I am not the one who is railing like a termagant in public, love.”

“I am
not
railing.”

“No?”

There was a maddening undertone of enjoyment in his voice, and Aurora regretted that she was too well-bred to box his ears and that she held such a strong aversion to physical violence. Instead, she took a deep breath and bit her tongue, vowing not to allow herself to be provoked.

It was hard, however, when Nicholas seemed determined to stir up trouble.

“Speaking of your acquaintances…” he said thoughtfully. “If I’m not mistaken, there is one now.”

Glancing farther down the Row, Aurora recognized the approaching horseman as the Earl of Clune. Her heart seemed to falter. “Oh, my word…Clune. He is one of
your
acquaintances as well. He told me you were once a member of his Hellfire League.”

“For a short while I was, during my visit here three years ago. What of it?”

“He is sure to recognize you. You should leave at once, Nicholas, before he sees you.”

“I told you, I have no intention of hiding.”

“You can’t possibly mean to show yourself to him!”

“You will remember that I am Brandon Deverill, your cousin by marriage. There should be no problem. Smile, love, and pretend you are enjoying my company.”

It was too late to do anything else, Aurora realized, since Clune was nearly upon them. He flashed his charming rake’s smile as he drew his mount to a halt before her.

“Ah, the most beautiful widow in London,” he said with a graceful bow. “And the most accomplished horsewoman, as well. The combination is entrancing.”

“My Lord Clune,” Aurora murmured, acknowledging the acquaintance with a polite nod of her head.

“I don’t believe I need ask the outcome of your race this morning, since you always win.”

She made a supreme effort not to look at Nicholas as she tried to play down the race. “My horses enjoy the exercise.”

“But your competition could be stronger. Perhaps some morning you might prefer a challenger other than your ward. I would be happy to offer my services whenever you wish.”

At his wickedly suggestive tone, Aurora felt like squirming in her saddle. His lordship was clearly flirting with her. “Thank you, my lord, but I am quite content riding with my ward.”

She had hoped he would move on without noticing Nicholas, but Clune’s gaze turned to him next.

“Have we met before? You bear a strong resemblance to someone I know. This lady’s late husband, I believe.”

Aurora held her breath, while Nicholas smiled coolly. “That is not surprising, since I am Sabine’s cousin. Brandon Deverill, at your service, sir.”

“The likeness is remarkable.”

Nicholas met his gaze directly. “So I am told.”

Aurora was unnerved by how closely Clune was studying him. But his lordship merely bowed and offered his condolences. “An excellent sportsman and comrade, your cousin Nick. As game as they come. I was sorry to hear of his death, for I grew quite fond of him during our brief acquaintance. You are an American, Mr. Deverill?”

“By birth, yes. But since my political leanings don’t quite coincide with my government’s, I thought it judicious to take refuge in England until the war ends.”

“You might find your acceptance here rather tricky, especially since your cousin was hanged for piracy.”

“I believe Lord Wycliff will vouch for me if you have concerns about my loyalties.”

“No, no concerns.” Clune’s mouth curled in a wry smile. “I have few political leanings at all. But if you find you have need of patronage other than Wycliff’s, I should be happy to claim your acquaintance, in remembrance of my late friend Nick.”

Nicholas’s response was far cooler than Aurora expected. “That is generous of you, sir. I shall keep your offer in mind.”

Clune turned and smiled his charming smile at Aurora. “Well, I will let you ride on. You won’t want your horse to stand any longer. But I hope you will keep my other offer in mind, my lady. If you care to race some morning, I will be delighted to oblige.”

Aurora murmured a noncommittal reply, and felt relief flooding her when Clune spurred his horse and rode past them.

She and Nicholas resumed riding along the Row. Aurora was fuming, appalled by his brazen disregard for his life, but she forced herself to wait until they were out of earshot of the earl.

“What do you call that, if not flaunting your existence?” she demanded, her concern making her sound sharper than normal.

“I call it establishing my cover. Clune knows me better than almost anyone in England. If he didn’t recognize me, then I doubt anyone else will.”

“I call it barefaced effrontery. You looked him in the eye and
lied
.”

“Would you rather I risked telling him the truth?”

Nettled, she lapsed into silence.

“He seems overly attentive to you, my love. Perhaps I should remind you again, you are not a widow—and never were.”

She was too vexed to realize Nicholas’s good humor had faded. “I do not need reminding.”

“I think you do. Clune is one of the premier rakes of England, and he sees you as fair game.”

Aurora’s chin lifted stubbornly. “I will not allow you to dictate to me, Nicholas. I wed you chiefly so I wouldn’t have to endure a husband who prescribed my every action, like Halford. You sound just like him—or my father.”

The set of Nicholas’s jaw seemed to soften. “I did not mean to pick a fight, Aurora.”

“No? You are giving an extremely good imitation of it.”

“It’s not unreasonable for a man to be possessive of his wife.”

“You cannot possibly be jealous?”

“Perhaps I am. But I advise you to keep Clune at a distance.”

“I have no intention of letting you choose my friends for me, Nicholas.”

He drew his horse to a halt. “Then I had best speak to Clune myself.”

She looked startled. “Why?”

“So I can warn him to keep away from my wife.”

Aurora stared at him, alarming visions running through her head. She had forgotten that Nicholas Sabine was a dangerous man. By his own admission, he had killed before. Did he intend to threaten Clune? Menacing a peer of the realm was a certain way to jeopardize his own life. He could be caught and hanged….

“You
cannot
harm him, Nicholas.”

“Your concern for him is touching, love,” Nicholas said coolly.

With a polite bow, he turned his horse around and rode away, leaving Aurora to stare after him, a very unladylike oath trembling on her lips.

Aurora remained in the park far longer than usual, anxiously awaiting Nicholas’s return, but she saw no sign of either him or Clune. When she finally gave up and went home, she found herself pacing the floor worriedly.

She was startled when late that afternoon her butler brought her an engraved calling card bearing the name of Brandon Deverill and informed her that Mr. Deverill was delighted to accept her invitation to tea.

It was with both relief and trepidation that she went downstairs to meet Nicholas. She found him in her drawing room, inspecting the collection of portrait miniatures on a side table.

He looked up when she entered, his dark eyes giving her the same sensual jolt she always felt when he merely looked at her.

“Hello, cousin,” he said warmly. “How generous of you to invite me to tea.”

His amicable greeting was for the benefit of the servant, she suspected, forcing a smile. He was supposed to be her late husband’s cousin. Having tea with him in the middle of the afternoon was not too far beyond the pale. It was his audacity that unsettled her nerves.

“How remiss of me, Mr. Deverill. I entirely forgot to tell my staff that you were expected.” She turned to the butler, who was hovering at the door, awaiting her instructions. “Danby, we will take tea here, please.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

When they were alone, Aurora fixed a baleful glare on Nicholas. “I thought we agreed we would not meet in private,” she declared, keeping her voice low so the servants wouldn’t hear.

“I don’t remember making any such agreement, love.”

Before she could argue, he picked up one of the miniatures and showed it to her. It exhibited a handsome gentleman with curling dark gold hair and blue eyes. “Is this your late betrothed?”

Crossing the room, Aurora took the likeness from him and set it back down carefully. “Yes, that is Geoffrey, Lord March,” she said, running her fingertips gently over the cherished image.

“I can see why I reminded you of him.” Aurora shot him a questioning look and found Nicholas watching her. “When we first met, you said I reminded you of someone who was dear to you. I can detect a certain resemblance between us.”

She had forgotten she had ever said that to Nicholas or that she’d ever seen a resemblance in the two men. They were as different as the sun and the moon: one bold and vital, blazing with heat and intensity, the other quiet and soothing and gentle.

“I was gravely mistaken. You are not alike in any respect. Certainly not now that you’ve changed the color of your hair.”

“And you’re still in love with his ghost?”

“I don’t wish to discuss him, Nicholas.” It hurt too much to remember. She gazed defiantly at him. “Would you care to explain what you are doing here? You know it is unwise for us to be together.”

He studied her for a moment. “Perhaps, but I thought you could use the company. You said you can’t get out much because the conventions of widowhood restrict your movements. And since I had a great deal to do with your claim to widowhood, I feel responsible for making amends.”

“I told you, I release you from any responsibility or obligation toward me.”

“I’m not certain I want to be released. I took a vow to cherish till death do us part.”

“Nicholas…I thought we had settled this. Death
did
part us, if you will remember? You died and were buried on St. Kitts.” Her mouth curved in a mock frown. “Oh, yes, I forgot. That was all a charade, much like the one you are playing now.”

Nicholas’s lips stretched in a slow smile, but he made no reply. Instead he contemplated her silently with an unsettling, amused gaze.

“What?” Aurora demanded. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I am trying to decide if I like this shrewish side of you.”

Aurora took a deep breath. She
was
acting the shrew, even after she had vowed she would not allow herself to be goaded by his deliberate provocations. It was quite unlike her to let her temper get the best of her. She’d spent her life maintaining strict control over her emotions. But Nicholas Sabine was so very exasperating. And he had agreed to forget their marriage existed. So why was he still acting as if he were her husband, with the right to rule her? Was he going back on his word?

He was gazing down at her now, giving her the full effect of his lazy smile. Aurora wanted to curse him for his irresistible appeal; he knew perfectly well the impact his sensual charm had on her.

“I believe you are being remiss as a hostess, sweet shrew. Aren’t you going to invite me to sit down?”

Aurora raised her eyes to the ceiling, but she willed herself to reply serenely. “Very well, Mr. Deverill. Will you please be seated?”

“Ah, excellent. If you could just refrain from looking daggers at me, I might actually believe you meant to welcome me.”

With what she considered admirable control, Aurora waited until he had moved over to the settee before taking the chair opposite him, across the tea table.

“So, what shall we discuss?” she asked, folding her hands primly in her lap.

Nicholas simply watched her. After a moment, his gaze dropped to linger on her breasts. Heat rose in Aurora, and she felt a tingling and a swelling of her nipples that she was helpless to control.

“Do I make you nervous, Aurora?” he asked knowingly.

“Yes,” she retorted. “The way you look at me is disgraceful.”

“What way is that?”

“As if you’re undressing me. It makes me highly uncomfortable.”

His mouth lifted in a smile of tempting allure. “Good. I never want you to be too comfortable around me.”

Aurora shook her head, torn between fury and despair. “You really deserve to be arrested, you know—before you cause a scandal or drive me to distraction.”

“Would you really be glad for my arrest? Clune says you were bereft at my presumed death.”

Her alarm returned full measure as she remembered Clune. “Surely you weren’t mad enough to actually speak to him?”

“I’m afraid so. I decided a truthful approach would be most advantageous, so I revealed myself and told him the entire story about my imprisonment and near hanging.”

“And how did he respond?” Aurora asked worriedly.

“Once I swore that I wasn’t committing treason against your country, he was perfectly willing to assist my deception. I told him I was only here to see my wife, which is the truth.”

Aurora eyed him with dismay. “How could you take such a dangerous risk?”

“Actually it was a
calculated
risk. Clune is ‘always ripe for a lark,’ as he puts it. He also believes in loyalty toward his friends—and he claims me as a friend. He is fond of you, as well. Too fond, in my opinion. He as much as admitted that he’d been bent on your seduction.”

Aurora felt Nicholas studying her intently. “I have done nothing to encourage Lord Clune to believe he could succeed.”

“So he says. When I warned him to keep away from you, he claimed he had made little progress because you were madly in love with your late husband.”

She felt herself blushing. “I had to have some story to explain my abrupt marriage. I thought it best to let people believe I fell in love at first sight.”

His flashing smile held a relentless charm. “I rather like that version of the story.”

“Yet you and I know the truth. Our union was never a love match—nor was it supposed to last longer than one night.”

Nicholas let her comment pass. “You might not have encouraged Clune wittingly, but as a beautiful widow, you are a prime target for men like him. And your resistance only adds to your allure. For a rake like Clune, it’s the challenge of the chase that is stimulating.”