The Passion n-2

by Nicole Jordan

"I am glad to find you here, my dear," Percy said quietly. "I thought you might have accompanied Jane on her calls."

  "I wanted to hear the news."

  Waving off the footman who stood ready to take his hat, Percy met her gaze with reluctance. The grim expression on his face told her without words the news she dreaded hearing.

  She pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back a cry.

  "Aurora, I'm sorry," he said simply. "The admiral was disinclined to be merciful."

  For a moment her cousin remained silent, as if giving her time to compose herself. Then he took her hands in a gentle grasp. "My dear, this is obviously a wretched time, but I have a serious matter to discuss with you."

  Still numb with shock, Aurora scarcely heard what her cousin was saying.

  "There has been an unanticipated turn of events." He paused, a troubled look on his face. "Nicholas Sabine has a… request to make of you."

  "A request?" she repeated hoarsely.

  "I spoke with Nick after the admiral's decision became known," Percy explained in a low voice, "and he sought my opinion of a rather wild notion. I did not refuse him outright, for I thought you should hear him out and decide for yourself. It is an extraordinary proposal… but then these are extraordinary circumstances."

  "I… don't understand. What does he wish to ask of me?"

  "He would like your help, actually. It seems he has a duty he must fulfill, yet now he will no longer be alive to do so."

  "What duty?"

  "Sabine has a ward, a half sister who lives on Montserrat. The young lady urgently needs the protection of someone of your consequence, as well as an escort to England. And since you are planning to return there shortly… Well, there is more, but I don't want to influence you unduly. You should hear the proposal directly from Sabine himself. If you are willing to listen, I will accompany you to the fortress at once."

  "You mean now, at this moment?" Aurora asked in confusion.

  "Yes, now." He released her hands. "Time is growing short, I'm afraid. The hanging has been put off until tomorrow, but after that…"

  His voice trailed off, yet Aurora was grateful that he failed to put the rest of his sentence into words.

  She had never again expected to see the bold American who had touched her life so fleetingly. Thus it was with a heavy heart that Aurora returned to the fortress prison. She felt a hollowness in the pit of her stomach as she preceded her cousin into the dim cell.

  Nicholas Sabine stood with his back to her, a shaft of sunlight gilding his fair hair. He was fully clothed this time, she noted absently. Someone – perhaps Percy – had provided him with a coat and a pair of Hessian boots, so that he more closely resembled a gentleman of means than a savage pirate or a condemned prisoner.

  When he turned slowly to face her, however, he still had the same powerful effect on her; she felt her heart quicken in her chest as she met the dark intensity of his gaze.

  "Thank you for coming," he said in a quiet voice. He glanced at her cousin. "Might I presume further upon our friendship, Sir Percy, and ask that you allow us a few moments in private? Lady Aurora will come to no harm, I give you my word."

  Percy nodded, although reluctantly. "Very well. I shall wait outside in the corridor, my dear."

  Her cousin withdrew, leaving the door partly ajar. Sabine's half smile was fleeting, almost ironic, as he noted the precaution.

  Returning his gaze to Aurora then, he gestured with his hand, indicating the cot. "Would you care to sit down, Lady Aurora? I think you might want to be seated to hear what I have to say."

  "Thank you, but I prefer to stand," she replied politely.

  "As you wish."

  His dark gaze was riveted on her as he contemplated her in silence. Aurora withstood his piercing assessment with uncertainty, wondering what he intended to ask. When he didn't speak, her gaze went to the bandage at his temple. It seemed clean and a bit smaller than yesterday, as if it had been freshly changed. She was about to inquire how his head wound was faring when he spoke.

  "What has Percy told you?" Sabine asked.

  "Only that you need my help for your sister."

  "I do." He eyed her speculatively another moment, then turned to pace about the small cell like a caged cat – lithe, graceful, on edge. "You may call me mad, but I ask you to hear me out fully before you decide."

  His sense of urgency communicated itself to her, making her uneasy. "Very well, Mr. Sabine," Aurora prodded. "I am listening."

  "I suppose I should begin by telling you a story – a love story, if you will. But I fear it may shock a lady of tender sensibilities. Are you game to hear it?"

  "Yes," Aurora murmured doubtfully.

  He continued to stalk the floor, keeping his voice low as he spoke. "There once was a man – an American – who went to England and fell in love. The lady returned his affection, but any union between them was doomed from the start. Not only was she quite young, but her family would never have permitted her to wed beneath her class. Even more damning, he already had a wife and a young son, with another child expected shortly.

  "Refusing to dishonor her or his marriage vows, he left England, determined to vanquish his feelings and never see the young lady again. But business concerns required his return a few years later, and he discovered her nearly in despair. She was to wed an older gentleman whose physical deformities rendered him a monster in her eyes: As his bride, she would reside on her husband's remote estate, away from everything she held dear.

  "She couldn't bear to be imprisoned in such a marriage and believed her life was at an end, without her ever having lived, or ever knowing passion. And so she begged the man she loved to show her what true intimacy was. Unable to resist her plea or deny his feelings any longer, he became her lover."

  Sabine paused in his tale and glanced at Aurora, as if to gauge her reaction. When she managed to keep her expression noncommittal, he went on. "Their illicit affair lasted only a few months, for he had to return to his family and to his responsibilities. Shortly afterward, however, the young lady discovered she was with child."

  Aurora winced inwardly. She could well imagine the scorn an unwed young woman would face if her enceinte condition became known. "What happened?" she murmured.

  "Not surprisingly the lady's engagement was promptly dissolved. To quiet any scandal, she was married off to a younger son of an Irish nobleman and banished to the Caribbean to live, while her outraged father washed his hands of her. The lady died last year, without ever being reunited with her family. She left behind an only child, a daughter."

  "Your sister," Aurora said gently.

  Sabine drew a slow breath. "Yes. My half sister, to be exact. As you've guessed, the lady's lover was my father."

  "Did he know about the child?"

  "Not at first. But she wrote to him when her husband passed away, telling him what had happened. My father supported her financially for years, even though he couldn't publicly acknowledge the child. He felt it necessary to keep the secret from his family, to spare my mother the shameful knowledge of his love affair. He died four years ago, but on his deathbed, he told me about his daughter and exacted a promise from me to take care of her."

  Again Sabine flashed that ironic half smile that tugged at Aurora's heart. "I could hardly refuse to honor his dying request, could I? Truth tell, I was never the ideal son. Our relationship was always… strained because I had no serious interest in taking over the shipping firm he had built. My father, you see, was a nephew of the sixth Earl of Wycliff, but with little prospect of inheriting the title. Before the war with the Colonies, he immigrated to Virginia to make his fortune. And he far exceeded even his own dreams, building a formidable empire from almost nothing. Yet I preferred the life of an adventurer to following in his footsteps. When he died, though, I felt compelled to assume the responsibilities I had always neglected."

  "Did you meet your sister then?"

  "Indeed. My first act was to visit her on Montserrat. She bears t
he name of Kendrick, the Irishman her mother wed, but she's always known the story of her birth. Her mother wanted her to understand she was a child of love."

  "Captain Gerrod said you went to Montserrat to see a woman," Aurora remarked thoughtfully.

  Sabine's mouth curled at the mention of his nemesis. "Yes, my sister. She is almost grown up now – nineteen – and actually quite a beauty. She's also my ward. Her mother succumbed to a fever last year, shortly before the war started, and left Raven's wardship to me."

  "Raven? That is an unusual name for a young lady."

  "Perhaps, but it fits. She was born with hair black as a raven's wing, a throwback to one of my family's Spanish ancestors, apparently. And she is unconventional in more than just appearance. When I first met Raven, she was a complete hoyden, more at home in a stable or in a beach cove playing pirate. But lately she's made an earnest attempt to conform and conduct herself as a proper English lady. She's determined to realize her mother's dream for her – to be accepted by her English relatives and take her rightful place among the nobility. And one major obstacle has been overcome. Raven has been invited by her grandfather to live in England."

  "Her mother's father?"

  "Yes. He is Viscount Luttrell, of Suffolk. Perhaps you're acquainted with him."

  Aurora searched her memory. "I've met him, but I never realized he had a daughter."

  "Because Luttrell disowned her twenty years ago. But recently he had a change of heart. When he learned of his daughter's death, he regretted never attempting to reconcile. His health is failing now as well, and he wants to meet his only granddaughter and see her established in society. Raven's aunt has agreed, albeit reluctantly, to formally present her, but it's questionable how readily Raven will be received by the ton, given the dubious circumstances of her birth. She's anxious – passionate, even – to make a good match so she will be welcomed by the society that shunned her mother. Her path would be far smoother, certainly, if she had someone of elevated social status to befriend and advise her."

  "And you wish me to be that person."

  "Yes." His dark eyes met hers with unwavering intensity. "I don't care much for being a supplicant, Lady Aurora. It doesn't set well with me. But I would be grateful if you would extend the same kindness to my sister that you showed me yesterday."

  Nicholas Sabine was obviously a man accustomed to getting his own way, Aurora thought Helplessness would not be a sensation he would welcome. Yet she had no difficulty answering his entreaty. Her heart would have to be hard indeed to be unmoved by the girl's situation. "Of course, Mr. Sabine. I would be happy to do whatever I can to make her entry into society successful."

  His face softened only a degree. It surprised her that his relief wasn't greater until she remembered his other concern. "Percy mentioned that your sister needs someone to accompany her to England, as well."

  "She does." He resumed his pacing, his movements tightly controlled. "Before the war began, I had planned to transport Raven to England on one of my own ships. But as an American, I would hardly be welcome there now. My cousin Wycliff's too occupied trying to defeat the French to fetch Raven, and it could be years before you Brits finally prevail against Napoleon. I have a cousin on my mother's side, but he's American as well."

  Sabine started to rake a hand through his hair, stopping when he encountered the bandage. "I had arranged with Wycliflf to utilize a ship from his Caribbean fleet while I merely provided Raven armed escort across most of the Atlantic. In fact, I went to Montserrat to arrange the final details of the voyage with her. Unfortunately I was set upon by Gerrod's crew. And now that my fate has been settled…"

  Aurora felt her throat tighten at the thought of this vital man losing his life.

  "Well," Sabine continued with a hard smile, "despite this setback, I intend to do everything in my power to fulfill my promise to my father and ensure my sister's welfare. Which is why…" He paused again, this time studying her from beneath his thick lashes. "… why I would like to make you a formal offer of marriage."

  Aurora simply stared, not comprehending. After the space of a dozen heartbeats, she realized she had indeed heard him correctly. She drew an uneven breath. "Are you serious?"

  "Deadly serious." His beautiful mouth twisted without amusement. "I assure you, I do not take the prospect of matrimony lightly. I have never before proposed marriage to a woman – and would not be doing so now, if the circumstances were not so dire."

  Still stunned, Aurora could only stare at him. She opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again. Moving over to the cot, she sat down as he had first suggested, needing the support after all. Her mind was racing with shock, bewilderment, as she tried to form a reply. "Mr. Sabine, I don't…"

  "You said you would hear me out before you gave me an answer."

  She lifted her gaze to his. "Yes, but… Are you not aware that I am expected to marry when I return to England?"

  "So Percy informed me. You are promised to the Duke of Halford. But I understand the engagement is not yet official."

  "No. We could make no public announcement while I was in mourning for my late betrothed. But my father is set on the match."

  "But what about you, Lady Aurora? I gathered that you were reluctant to wed your father's choice. Was I mistaken?"

  "No, you weren't mistaken," she admitted in a low voice.

  Sabine moved to stand before her, holding her rapt attention. "Then consider the advantages of a union between us. You wouldn't have to wed Halford. That alone should prove a strong incentive. I remember the duke from my last visit to England three years ago. He must be more than twice your age, and as arrogant and puffed up with his own consequence as any nobleman I've ever had the misfortune to meet. Is that what you want, a lifetime of imprisonment as his wife?"

  When she didn't answer, he continued. "There are other advantages as well. I assure you, I would make the inconvenience to you financially worth your while. I am a wealthy man, Lady Aurora, with a fortune that probably exceeds Halford's. I took the liberty of discussing the possible particulars with your cousin, and he's satisfied that the settlement I'm prepared to make would leave you a wealthy woman. You would have complete financial independence from your father. Just think. You would no longer be obliged to remain under his thumb or wed his choice of suitors."

  The thought of no longer being subject to her father's dictates was vastly appealing. Even so…

  "I suspect," Sabine pressed, "that you would find me a more agreeable husband than Halford. But even if not, it isn't as if you would be tied to me for life – Or actually you would. But our marriage would last only a few hours, a day at most. After that you would be my widow."

  Aurora flinched at his casual reference to his intended hanging. He was making light of his desperate situation, clearly. But when she searched his strong, masculine face, she realized he did not want her pity. His entire focus was only on seeing to his sister's welfare.

  "I realize I would be taking advantage of your kindness," he murmured, reaching down to take Aurora's hand in his larger, more powerful one, "but I am lamentably short of options."

  Unnerved by his touch, she withdrew her hand and rose, moving past him to pace the floor herself.

  "I've told you, Mr. Sabine," she said with what she thought was reasonable calm, "I would be happy to help your sister… without any formal arrangement between us. Surely it isn't necessary for us to wed."

  "Perhaps not, but it would greatly improve the odds of securing Raven's future. If you are related to my ward through marriage, you would have every right to guide and influence her foray into society. In fact, if you were willing, I could turn her wardship over to you." Sabine let that sink in before adding, "That might be impossible if you marry Halford. I imagine he would object to his duchess associating with a… an unusual young woman like Raven. He's a stickler for propriety."

  "So he is," she agreed absently.

  "As your husband, he could forbid your having any connec
tion with my sister."

  Aurora raised a hand to her temple. Halford not only could forbid her, but no doubt would. "Even so… marriage to you is such a drastic step…"

  Visibly schooling his impatience, Sabine forced his mouth into a semblance of a smile. "Perhaps you might be more amenable if I took a different approach. If I attempted to flatter you and cosset your sensibilities."

  She stiffened defensively and shot him a glance. "My sensibilities do not require cosseting, Mr. Sabine."

  "No?" For the first time his smile reached his eyes. "I didn't think so." Then he sighed and dropped his voice to a murmur. "I do regret having to propose to you under such distasteful circumstances. Ordinarily I would try to employ all my powers of persuasion, but I'm afraid I haven't the time to try to charm you. I wouldn't be lying, however, if I claimed to be utterly besotted by your beauty."

  Aurora found herself staring at him, wondering if his admission was mere cajolery. Doubtless Nicholas Sabine had a ruthless charm that he could wield to lethal effect.

  Taking a deep breath, she returned to the conversation at hand. "I cannot simply agree to marry you, Mr. Sabine. There are other practicalities I must consider."

  "Such as?"

  Such as the fact that Nicholas Sabine was not the kind of man she would ever willingly choose as her husband. She had never met so compelling a man, or one who had made such a forceful impact on her. There was a sense of danger about him, an intensity that was intimidating, if not frightening… although his ferocity now might be driven by his concern for his sister. "If I were seeking a husband, a pirate – an American one – would not be my first choice. By your own admission, you are a violent man."

  "I don't recall ever making such an admission."

  "What of the man Captain Gerrod mentioned? He said you nearly killed one of his crew while resisting arrest."

  Sabine's jaw hardened, but he met her gaze unflinchingly. "A man was wounded, true, but at the hand of his own crewmate. I was unarmed when I was set upon by some half dozen seamen. When I fought back, one drew a knife, and in the melee, another fell against the blade. I saw what happened just before I blacked out. I suppose I was struck over the head with a bottle."