Nicole Jordan (9 page)

Percy and Jane lingered a while longer and embraced Aurora fondly when they said farewell. It had been arranged for Aurora’s maid to attend her, but when Jane wanted to summon the girl, Nicholas intervened, saying he would see to his bride himself.

He ignored Jane’s frown of disapproval and Aurora’s questioning look, but in a few more moments her cousins were gone, leaving her alone with the man whose name she now shared.

“I trust you will forgive me if I’m not eager for company,” he murmured, throwing the bolt on the door and securing them inside.

“Of course,” Aurora answered unevenly, not quite certain how she should behave or what he expected of her.

“Would you like some wine? Or perhaps something stronger?”

She started to refuse, but then changed her mind, realizing wine might help ease the tension that had suddenly seized her. “Yes, thank you, I would.”

The commander’s quarters were neither large nor particularly sumptuous; the chamber they occupied was both a dining room and parlor. But they were the best the grim fortress had to offer.

Aurora had been surprised to learn the colonel had leant his rooms for their wedding night at Nick’s request. Even in prison her new husband was not completely powerless at influencing his fate.

When Nicholas went to the sideboard, Aurora absently toyed with the overlarge ring on her finger.

“You don’t have to wear it,” he said, observing her action.

“I am just concerned that I will lose it. Perhaps I should put it away for safekeeping.”

“That might be wise.”

She slipped it into her reticule, then clasped her hands together to keep them steady.

Nicholas poured a snifter of brandy for himself and a glass of sherry for Aurora, which she accepted gratefully. Then he raised his glass in mock salute before taking a long swallow of brandy.

Unable to meet his gaze, Aurora sipped her wine more slowly. She felt her heart skip a beat when her new husband indicated the adjoining door with a polite sweep of his arm.

“Shall we retire, my lady?”

Reluctantly she preceded him into the bedchamber. The room was dim, lit only by a bedside lamp and a low-burning fire. Aurora eyed the bed warily. The frame was rather narrow, yet the covers had been turned down invitingly and her nightdress had been laid out with evident care. Her mouth suddenly went dry.

She felt his gaze survey her as she stood frozen. After watching her a moment, though, Nicholas went to the hearth and stirred the coals, rousing a more lively flame. “My manners are remiss again,” he said casually. “I haven’t thanked you yet for accepting my proposal.”

“It…seemed the most sensible course,” she replied, fighting to keep her voice from sounding weak.

“And are you always sensible?”

“Usually, Mr. Sabine.”

“Why don’t you call me Nicholas? After all, we are husband and wife now.”

Aurora shivered slightly at the reminder.

He turned to her, his gaze locking with hers. “Bridal nerves are not uncommon, I understand.”

“I suppose not.”

“I have told you before, Aurora. You have nothing to fear from me. You needn’t look as if you are going to the guillotine.”

She took a deep breath, chastising herself for being such a mouse. She had agreed to become his bride, and she would uphold her end of the bargain—or die trying.

“Do you know what is supposed to happen between us?” he asked when her chin lifted in determination.

“I have an idea. Jane told me generally what to expect. I am prepared to submit as your wife.”

His eyes softened. “I am not interested in your submission, Aurora. I want you to enjoy this as much as I do. In fact, I think you’ll find lovemaking quite pleasurable.”

“Jane said…it might prove so with you.”

His faint smile held more than a hint of charm. “I shall do my utmost to justify her faith in me.”

When Aurora remained immobile, Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “Come and sit by the fire, sweetheart. I won’t ravish you, I promise.”

Aurora searched his compelling eyes, finding a tenderness there that amazingly reassured her.

Two wing chairs were arranged before the hearth, with a small cherrywood table between them. Aurora chose the one closest to the door. Nicholas remained where he was, one booted foot on the hearth fender. His tone was thoughtful when he next spoke. “Did you ever consider that this marriage business might be terrifying for me as well?”

“You?” Aurora responded in surprise.

“Yes, me.” His mouth twisted in a wry, self-deprecating smile. “I’ve never taken a bride before. Truthfully, I’ve hunted man-eating tigers in India with less trepidation.”

She stared at him, not believing this man with his bold vitality had any conception of fear. She studied him a moment, unconsciously admiring his ruthless good looks—the strong jaw, the slashing brows, the sensual eyes with their long, dark lashes.

She wasn’t genuinely afraid of him, although she didn’t know why. A man with his history of violence should have frightened her. But he was still unnerving.

There was a leashed energy in his lithe, powerful body that was intensely male. An intensity that was sexual—there was no other way to describe it. All her senses came alive in his presence, her feminine instincts acutely aroused. That was what unnerved her, she realized. His powerful sexuality…and the dismaying effect it had on her.

“I expect we should discuss the arrangements regarding our marriage,” he said after another moment. “I spent most of the day with the solicitors, trying to foresee various difficulties and making every legal provision I could think of. Financially at least you will be comfortably situated.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, suspecting he had introduced the subject now to give her something to think about other than the consummation to come.

“Raven, however, could prove a possible problem to my plan,” Nicholas mused. “She won’t be eager to accept you as her guardian—a total stranger. Nor is she likely to suffer the confining strictures she’ll encounter in England, either from her family or society in general. Although she claims to have every intention of conforming in order to make a good match, she has an aversion to rigid rules. She’s something of a rebel, I fear. Much like me.”

His crooked smile was meant to put her at ease, Aurora suspected, but the sensuality of it had just the opposite effect. “I’m certain we will work something out,” she said gamely.

“Good. I’ve written Raven a letter, telling her how our marriage came about and explaining how she stands to gain, but you may have to persuade her to accept you as her ally. I think she will, once she understands the lengths you’ve gone for her.”

He hesitated. “I will be relying on you to guide her, Aurora. I believe we discussed the support she’ll need from you once you reach England, but there is another matter I forgot to mention. Raven’s mother reportedly left something in her personal effects for me to hold in keeping…a rare book, I understand. It was a gift from my father years ago. He told me about it before he died, but he wasn’t certain what happened to it. He would have been gratified to know Elizabeth Kendrick kept it all this time. She told me she wanted her daughter to have it—but not until Raven is old enough, after she is wed herself. Now that you have charge of her, you will have to be the one to judge when to give it to her. I have no doubt you will act in her best interests.”

“Of course,” she murmured, wondering what kind of book inspired such concern.

He shifted his gaze to look down at the hearth. Firelight played over his beautiful features as he stared at the flames. “There is one other thing I would ask of you, Aurora. Will you promise me something?”

“What?”

“I want you to leave tomorrow for Montserrat.”

“Tomorrow?” Aurora felt herself frown. “Must it be so soon?”

“I would rest easier, knowing Raven’s welfare is in your hands.”

A chill settled about her heart. He was to die tomorrow. How could she deny him this simple request?

“Will you promise me?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice suddenly hoarse.

He gave a brief nod of satisfaction. “There should be a ship at Montserrat ready to take you both to England. Your cousin will escort you to the island and see you safely aboard. I regret the inconvenience, but there is good reason for haste. By now Raven no doubt has learned what befell me, and by going tomorrow, you may reach her in time to prevent her doing something totally rash—like setting out to rescue me.”

“Very well.” Aurora hesitated before murmuring, “It won’t really be inconvenient. Most of my packing has already been done. Before…I met you, I had planned to leave for England the following day.”

“Before I intervened in your life, you mean,” he responded with a twist of his sensual mouth.

There was little she could say to that. Truthfully she was glad he had intervened in her life and spared her a repugnant marriage, but this hardly seemed the appropriate time to discuss her feelings.

Firelight etched his profile as he took another swallow of brandy. “Well,” he added, rather easily for a man who was about to die, “at least it will all be over for you tomorrow.”

She shuddered, not wanting to be reminded of the fate that awaited him.

Almost absently, he bent to stir the coals again, and a lock of tawny hair fell over the bandage wrapping his forehead. When he raised a hand to rake back his hair, she noticed the red stain seeping through the white muslin.

“You are bleeding,” Aurora said, rising to her feet in alarm.

He touched the bandage gingerly, and a smear of blood came away on his fingers. “So I am. The gash must have opened when I washed earlier.”

“May I look?”

He raised an eyebrow but made no objection when she reached up to probe beneath the dressing. “Please, will you move over to the light so I can see?”

When he complied, Aurora set both their wine glasses on the bedside table and turned up the lamp. Nicholas sat on the edge of the bed, watching her as she carefully unwound the strip of muslin from around his brow. She could feel his intent gaze on her as she inspected the wound beneath the pad.

“I doubt this is what you planned for your wedding night,” he said in a low voice. “I’m sorry.”

No, this was not what she had planned. Had Geoffrey survived, this night would have been far different for her. She would not be preparing to give herself to a stranger, nor would she have been so unnerved by her husband’s nearness the way she was with Nicholas Sabine.
Or so strangely excited.

Aurora mentally chastised herself. She should not be thinking of Geoffrey or comparing the two men. Geoffrey was gone, and soon so would this man be.

Her sadness must have shown on her face, for he asked quietly, “Your betrothed…did you love him a great deal?”

She flushed, realizing he had mistaken the cause of her sorrow. “Yes.”

Making an effort to shrug off her melancholy, she went to the washstand and wet the corner of a towel before returning to her new husband. “Your wound bled a little. The blood should be wiped away so it won’t mat your hair.”

“Please do.”

“Forgive me if I hurt you.”

“You won’t.” He didn’t seem inclined to change the subject, however, as she gently cleaned his scalp. “You said I bore a resemblance to your betrothed.”

“I thought so at first because of your fair hair. But I was mistaken about any real resemblance. You really are nothing alike.”

“How so?”

“Geoffrey was a…”

“A proper gentleman?”

“A proper,
gentle
man.”

“Do you not think I can be gentle?” Nicholas queried solemnly.

Her heart gave a fluttering leap. “This is not what you expected either, was it?” she asked, trying to ignore the sensations he aroused in her.

“To be truthful, I never gave matrimony much thought.”

“You never wanted to marry at all?”

His brows drew together thoughtfully. “I suppose I had a vague notion that someday I would marry and sire an heir. But I was too busy sowing my wild oats to entertain any serious thought of settling down.” The half smile that flashed across his mouth was fleeting, before he gave a graceful shrug of his shoulders. “It’s too late now for recriminations or deliberations on what might have been.”

“I regret you were trapped into an unwanted marriage,” Aurora replied, her voice rough with emotion.

Nicholas reached up to close his strong hand around hers, commanding her attention. “I don’t mean to spend my last night dwelling on regrets.” His dark eyes held her spellbound. “Do you think we could make a pact, sweetheart? For tonight we forget everything else that has happened?”

“I would like that.”

“So would I.” His voice was hushed. “Very well, this is our night. Nothing exists, before or after this moment. Tonight we live only for the present.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He reached up and slid his fingers behind her nape. Time suddenly seemed suspended as he drew her head down. He meant to kiss her, she realized, her pulse leaping in an erratic rhythm.

His mouth was amazingly soft and tender when it touched hers briefly, yet it stirred a riot of unruly emotions within her. She wanted to turn and run, but when he drew back slightly, his fathomless gaze locked with hers, imprisoning her as surely as any chains.

Aurora felt her heart hammering as Nicholas leisurely took the towel from her limp grasp and let it fall to the floor. Hooking his arm around her waist, he urged her closer, between his spread legs, till her breasts brushed his chest. A tremor rippled through her.

With some futile thought of self-preservation, she pressed her palms against his broad shoulders, staring at him. His eyes, dark and sensual, told her clearly he didn’t intend to stop at a kiss.

“Your wound…”

“Will survive. But I might not if I don’t taste you soon.”

Still holding her lightly, he slowly lay back on the bed, drawing her with him. Heat spread in her, catching hurtfully in her stomach as she found herself stretched fully on top of him, cushioned by his powerful body. She trembled at the stunning intimacy of this simple contact, the unfamiliar hardness against her softness, the warmth of his frame beneath her thin silk gown.