That gave Jane pause, while Percy looked grave. He made none of the objections Aurora expected, however.
"Your father would indeed be unable to challenge the marriage then," Percy asserted. "And everyone knows Halford's preference for schoolroom misses. He will undoubtedly give up his pursuit of you if you're truly a widow and no longer a virgin bride."
Aurora couldn't help flushing at such plain speaking, even though she should be accustomed to it by now. The frank honesty and openness in the Osborne household was uncommon but admittedly refreshing compared to the stifling mores under which she'd been raised.
Seeing her discomfiture, Jane frowned at her husband, but then nodded slowly in agreement. "Mr. Sabine is injured, Aurora. He is not likely to be much of a husband to you. And you would only have to submit once. Furthermore… pray forgive me for being immodest, my dear, but I daresay Mr. Sabine has enough expertise to make the experience not… unpleasant for you."
It was Percy's turn to frown, but Jane forestalled his comment by asking him about the nuptial arrangements. "You can't possibly allow your cousin to be married in that dismal prison, Percy," she said emphatically.
"I doubt Nicholas would be allowed to leave the fortress, but the Brimstone chapel is quite adequate. The ceremony could be held there tomorrow evening, which would allow enough time to secure a special license and arrange for a solicitor to write out a new will."
When Aurora remained silent, Percy went to stand before her and take her hand. "You know, my dear, you don't have to accept Sabine's proposal, or Halford's either, for that matter. You are welcome to make your home with us for as long as you wish. You needn't return to England."
"Thank you, Percy," Aurora said quietly. "But my life is there, with my family, my friends."
"Well, don't let us browbeat you into making a decision you will regret."
She smiled briefly. "I won't." This was too important a matter to allow herself to be pressured even by her loving, well-meaning relatives. "I am profoundly grateful for your concern – grateful to you both," she said, including Jane in her glance. "But will you forgive me if I say I need some time alone to consider?"
"Of course we'll forgive you," Jane said warmly, giving her a gentle hug.
"Certainly," Percy agreed. "But I'm afraid you will have to make up your mind quickly. Nicholas Sabine is running out of time." "I know," Aurora said bleakly.
After fetching a pelisse, she made her way outside to walk beneath the palms. The Caribbean sun was setting, sheening the distant ocean horizon a glittering copper rose, but Aurora scarcely saw the beauty. Instead she saw a lean, bronzed face with dark, fathomless eyes gazing at her intently.
There were any number of reasons marrying Nicholas Sabine would be madness. He was a rake and adventurer and accused felon. They were enemies, their countries caught up in an interminable war. Her father would be outraged. Society would be aghast. Yet it was her own emotions that she feared most. Could she bear the turmoil of losing a husband to the gallows so soon after vowing to love and honor until death parted them?
She had already lost too many people she cared for, including the man who was her long-intended husband. And as irrational as it might be, she already grieved for Nicholas Sabine, when she'd known him for barely a day. Her emotions were far too deeply involved – and she would only compound her involvement by becoming his wife.
After Geoffrey's tragic death, she had vowed never to let herself care deeply for anyone again. She'd had more than enough of bereavement.
Coming to the edge of the palm-lined path, Aurora turned blindly back toward the house, grappling with her conflicting emotions. How had she come to this difficult choice?
Before Geoffrey's death, her future had been well established. As the Earl of March's wife she would have had everything she wanted out of life. Tranquility. A comfortable marriage. An agreeable husband for whom she held a strong affection. A large measure of independence. The hope of children.
After the tragedy of Geoffrey's disappearance at sea, she had tried to forget her grief, but her father had only compounded her misery by forcing her to accept another suitor. At least there was no chance of her being hurt by giving her heart to Halford.
Her lips curved in a bitter smile as she paused beside a palm tree.
She seemed destined to make a cold-blooded marriage. For her, true love was something only to be longed for and imagined. She would never know the kind of grand passion that poets spun legends about, the kind of intense, overwhelming love Raven's mother had known with Nicholas Sabine's father…
Nicholas Sabine. Aurora shut her eyes, remembering how he had kissed her earlier. The caress of his lips had been ardent yet restrained – and more arousing than any kiss she'd ever known.
He was nothing like Geoffrey. He was an adventurer and privateer, a man of violence rather than intellect. Bold and brazen rather than gentle and studious. Dangerous. His touch set her blood racing. His dark eyes promised pleasures she had never even dreamed of…
And yet he had honor. What other man would go to such lengths to fulfill a deathbed promise to his father? Would risk his life to see a sister he scarcely knew safely settled?
Aurora leaned against the thick trunk of the palm tree. How could she possibly refuse his plea? Her heart contracted painfully as she remembered the dim cell where he was imprisoned. Her predicament at being forced into wedlock couldn't compare to his desperate plight, but she knew what it felt like to be trapped. And she was his only hope.
She took a steadying breath. If she had to marry cold-heartedly, she would prefer to choose the candidate herself. And despite the drawbacks, there were excellent reasons to wed Mr. Sabine. Foremost was that she could escape a lifetime sentence as the Duchess of Halford. She would be in charge of her life for the first time since she could remember. She would be free of her father, of his rages.
Freedom. She hadn't realized how desperately she craved it until Sabine had offered it to her. She had come to the Caribbean seeking a haven, anxious to get out from under Father's tyrannical thumb. These past months had been like a balm to her ravaged heart, without the grim reminders of her lost loved ones or the strain and tension of living in her father's household.
It was unlikely she would ever have another opportunity like this. Marrying Nicholas Sabine was the only way she would have true independence. As his widow, she would have the tranquility she longed for.
Of course, the marriage vows would have to be consummated. One night. Can you give me that? He had implied that he could show her passion she never dreamed of, and she didn't doubt him. Yet she would have to surrender her innocence to him… Her mind sheared away from the thought of carnal intimacy with the dark-eyed adventurer.
Aurora exhaled slowly, ignoring the knot coiling in her stomach. The intimacy of the marriage bed would only make her emotional conflict worse. But if she could manage to get through one night without letting herself grow even more dangerously attached… If she forced herself to maintain a rational detachment, treating her marriage simply as a business proposition, to be concluded as swiftly as possible. If she simply did what had to be done…
Steeling herself, Aurora pushed away from the tree trunk, willing herself to calm. She might be making a very great mistake, but her decision had been made.
She would agree to become Nicholas Sabine's bride.
Tomorrow would be her wedding day.
"She accepted my suit?" Nicholas repeated, wanting to be certain he hadn't misunderstood his visitor's announcement.
"Yes," Percy assured him. "And furthermore, Commander Madsen has agreed to defer your sentence for another day so that your nuptials might go forward. You and Aurora are to wed tomorrow night."
Nick let out his breath slowly, releasing the tension that had knotted his gut ever since his capture. "You have my sincerest gratitude, Percy, for allowing me to present my case to your cousin, and for helping persuade her."
"I didn't have much of a hand in persuadi
ng her. Aurora made up her own mind."
"I imagine you underestimate your influence." Nicholas walked over to a table that now held a decanter and several glasses. "Will you help me celebrate my good fortune with a glass of wine?"
"Wine?" Percy frowned slightly as he glanced around the dingy prison cell. "I see you even have chairs now. Your accommodations seem to have improved since I was here last."
"Compliments of Commander Madsen, to express his regret at having to imprison me," Nick said dryly.
"Ah, yes. He said he owes you a debt of gratitude. I understand his brother's wife was one of the many people you ferried to safety during that uprising on St. Lucia six years ago."
"So he says. I'm afraid I don't precisely recall her."
"Madsen remembers it clearly enough. It's why he agreed so readily to delay your execution." Percy smiled faintly as he accepted his glass from Nick. "In fact, he seemed delighted to oblige. I think he's frankly angry to be left with the responsibility for carrying out such distasteful orders. And there is no love lost between him and Lord Admiral Foley, either. Madsen mentioned that he would much prefer to ship you to Barbados and let Foley deal with you."
"I'll have to see that the commander receives some significant token of my appreciation after I'm gone."
"A case of good French brandy would do nicely, I expect," Percy said with little humor. "As allies of the Frogs, you Americans have greater access to the necessities of life than we do." He glanced at the sleeping cot with distaste. "It would be even better if Madsen could be persuaded to find other quarters for you. My cousin deserves more suitable accommodations than the fortress dungeon for her bridal bower."
"She does indeed," Nicholas said with quiet grimness. "Don't worry. I'll make certain Madsen is persuaded."
"Good. But he may be willing to do it for Aurora's sake as well as your own. He's become rather smitten by her."
"I doubt he's alone in that – a woman as lovely as she is," Nicholas replied.
"Yes, but he would never have approached her while she was in mourning. Fortunately or not, her circumstances have shielded her from normal modes of courtship. In England she would have been much sought after for her rank if not her beauty, but her longstanding betrothal to Lord March kept any other suitors at bay, as did her father. I doubt Aurora is even aware of her effect on men…" Percy frowned. "Which reminds me, I feel I must speak up, Nick. My cousin is very much a lady. I hope you will go gently when you make her your bride."
Nicholas returned a cool glance. "I assure you, I have never mistreated a woman in my life."
"I don't believe you would intentionally harm her. I just meant… restrain your lust… keep your customary wildness under control. Aurora is nothing like your usual paramours. She's a complete innocent, with no experience in carnal matters."
"I will be considerate, I give you my word," Nicholas swore solemnly. "Now, perhaps we should discuss financial arrangements. The war will make it difficult for Lady Aurora to access my funds in any American banks, but I will write a letter for her to present to my cousin Wycliff in England. I'm certain Lucian will honor my wishes and provide her marriage settlement immediately. He can reconcile the amount with my estate once the war ends."
The two men spoke for a time about business matters – Aurora's jointure and what portion she would hold in trust for his sister and how the will should be written.
When Percy was satisfied the main contingencies had been accounted for, Nick changed the subject once again by saying gravely, "I would ask one more favor from you, my friend. Make certain Lady Aurora leaves St. Kitts before my sentence is carried out. I don't want my wife to see me die."
"That might be more difficult than all the rest," Percy replied slowly. "Aurora may very well refuse to leave you until the bitter end. She has a strong loyal streak, you see. She could feel obligated to stay until it is over."
"You cannot let her see me hang, Percy."
"No, I agree."
"Get her to Montserrat, by force if necessary. Wycliff's schooner should be docked there waiting to take my sister to England. They can embark directly from there."
"I shall see to it," Percy said earnestly. He met Nick's gaze. "I should be doing more to help you out of this damnable situation."
Nicholas grinned and reached out to shake his friend's hand. "You've already done more than I have any right to ask. Believe me, if I can see my sister safe, I will die at peace."
When Percy was gone, Nick lay down on the cot, his mind at ease for the first time since being taken prisoner. An odd sentiment, considering that tomorrow was to be his wedding day. Matrimony was an institution he had always ardently avoided, deploring any shackles that would restrict his much-cherished freedom. Ordinarily the prospect of taking a bride would have him rebelling, resisting with all his might. But his circumstances were anything but ordinary.
As was his bride.
Aurora Demming was a contradiction – surprisingly tough for a lady of her class and upbringing, with a stunning combination of regal elegance and allure.
Was he asking too much of her? She was the privileged, pampered daughter of a duke. Proper. Innocent. And enchanting enough to send blood rushing to his loins at the mere thought of touching her.
She was a beauty, the kind of woman to haunt a man's dreams, with pale gold hair and deep blue eyes and lush lips made for kissing.
When he remembered tasting those lips, another fierce stab of desire pierced him. Nicholas swore softly at himself. How would he manage to restrain himself? He'd had countless women. Passionate lovers who could wring a man dry. Bold, exciting ones who challenged his expertise and stressed the limits of his control. Tender ones who could satisfy his male hunger in a surfeit of pleasure. But he suspected making love to Aurora would be an experience unlike any he'd known. When he'd kissed her earlier, he'd glimpsed the fire of long-suppressed desire in her eyes.
He shut his own eyes, letting himself fantasize about his wedding night. He drew a sharp breath as he imagined having her cool beauty beneath him. The thought of rousing her to passion brought an ache to his body that had nothing to do with his injuries. A man could die happy after being in her arms.
Nicholas exhaled slowly, feeling his rigid muscles slacken.
Wedding her was no mistake. If tomorrow was to be his last night on earth, he wanted it to be in the arms of a siren whose hair glittered with sunlight.
Chapter Five
He took my body with surprising gentleness, treating my innocence as a precious gift .
The ceremony took place as planned in the fortress chapel, with Jane and Percy and Commander Madsen in attendance. Yet when Aurora first laid eyes on her intended husband, she felt an unexpected shock. He had recently bathed and shaved, and the clean, chiseled angles of his face revealed a stunning handsomeness that made her breath catch.
He was dressed as a gentleman of means rather than a condemned prisoner, in a bottle green coat and pristine white cravat that contrasted attractively with his golden skin, while his sun-streaked mane had been tamed to an almost fashionable style.
Both the fresh bandage wrapping his brow and his unsmiling face, however, emphasized the somber nature of the event. A wedding should have been a joyous occasion, but no one in the bridal party experienced any joy, including the bride and groom.
Aurora chiefly felt numb. This strange ritual was not what she'd envisioned when as a girl she had imagined her wedding day. The heavy gold ring Nicholas Sabine presented her – his own, engraved with the emblem of a masted ship – was too large for her slender finger. And the light brush of his lips on hers when he sealed their troth was almost cold. But it was the grimness in his eyes that made her heart sink.
The dinner given afterward by the commander in his quarters was slightly less solemn but still awkward, for no one could forget what was to happen the following day. There were no toasts to long life or happiness for the bridal couple, and Colonel Madsen made no secret of his anger about being f
orced to carry out such a distasteful duty. He took his leave shortly after the sweets had been cleared away, brushing off Aurora's attempts to thank him for his hospitality and merely wishing the company a good evening.
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.
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