"What happened then?" Nick asked in a hard voice.
"Well, the duke looked as if he would have an apoplectic fit, trying to control himself. He warned Aurora to get out of his sight, in fact, to leave his house entirely – saying that she was no longer his daughter – and then he stormed out."
Raven drew a measured breath. "Aurora was shaking, but she was more concerned for poor Danby, who had struck his head on a table when he was pushed. It was only later, after he had been tended to, that she confessed that sort of violence from her father was not uncommon. I think Aurora was vastly relieved he had washed his hands of her. She wouldn't say anything else against him, but later O'Malley was able to glean more from her servants than she would divulge to me. The tales only confirmed what I saw, that the duke is a terrible tyrant."
"Tyrant is obviously too tame a word," Nick said sardonically.
Raven nodded. "From what I gather, Aurora had to keep others safe from his rages for years, at no little cost to herself. That wasn't the first time he had threatened to strike her."
Nick's brows snapped together in a scowl of disbelief. "Eversley beat her? His own daughter?"
"It's monstrous, I know. But his servants paid even more dearly for his temper. Reportedly he took a crop to a groom once and nearly blinded the poor man."
Nick felt his gut tighten, repulsed by the thought of any man taking his anger out on defenseless dependents. And the idea of Aurora being at Eversley's mercy sickened him.
"Every one of her servants," Raven added quietly, "says that Aurora did her best to protect them from her father's fits of violence. More than once she had to physically intervene. And when he turned them out without a reference for the slightest infraction, she found them positions elsewhere. She never forgot them, either. When she set up her own household several months ago, she searched out those who had suffered at her father's hands and offered them employment. At least two of them were nearly destitute and were so pitifully grateful… It is small wonder they think Aurora is a saint."
"No, it's no wonder," he replied tersely, struggling to keep his anger in check. When he'd proposed to her, Aurora had implied her father would be angry at her marriage, but never could he have imagined she would be in actual danger.
"What are you thinking?" Raven asked, eyeing his scowling face.
The smile Nick gave was wintery. "About how much I would enjoy ten minutes alone with the duke."
"I know," Raven said, understanding. "He deserves to be taught what it is like being at the mercy of someone stronger and more powerful. But you cannot reveal yourself to him, Nicholas. You are supposed to be in disguise."
His jaw hardened in frustration at the reminder, but then his tension eased. As Nicholas Sabine, he was severely constrained by the need for secrecy, but as Brandon Deverill, he was under no such restrictions. He could repay the duke for all the grief the illustrious bastard had caused his daughter…
"Now what are you thinking?" Raven asked with a frown.
"That the day will come when the duke receives his just desserts," Nick replied enigmatically.
Apparently satisfied, Raven turned to reshelve the book she had been pretending to read, then added thoughtfully, "I'm certain her father is the main reason Aurora is so concerned about propriety. It is not that she is afraid of defying convention per se, but because the duke threatened her. He vowed that if she caused any further scandal, he would whip her like a stableboy and lock her away where she could no longer sully his name. That is why she is so careful to observe her widowhood, why she doesn't go out in society. She doesn't want to give her father any ammunition to use against her. She knows what he is capable of."
Raven turned back to Nicholas. "But I hope you see now that her concern for your safety is not really irrational at all. It has become second nature for her to worry about others, to try to protect them from harm."
Nick nodded slowly. It explained so much about Aurora. Why she claimed to want a quiet, serene life. Why she seemed afraid of passion. Why she had chosen a reportedly intellectual milquetoast like March to love. After being subjected to her father's fits of temper all her life, she would abhor any emotion that was too intense.
It explained, too, Nick realized, why she had reacted like a mother tigress when she'd seen him being beaten on the quay in St. Kitts; why she had intervened to save a total stranger. And why she had wed him – a pirate and accused murderer – despite all the serious disadvantages. She had wanted to escape her father and his rages.
Her widowhood provided her the safe haven she yearned for, but in reality, she had turned it into a prison, where emotion, desire, passion, had no place.
Scowling, Nick stared unseeingly at the rows of leather-bound volumes before him. He finally was beginning to understand what drove Aurora. Her reserve was far more ingrained and complex than he had first thought, but at least now he could better see what he was up against, and why she resisted him so fiercely. He imperiled her haven, threatened her passionless existence.
His resolve hardening, Nick set his jaw in determination. The task of teaching Aurora to trust him, to open up to him, would be more difficult than he ever imagined. But somehow he would find a way to free her from the joyless prison she had deliberately created for herself.
Chapter Thirteen
He made me feel intensely alive . He made my heart sing and set my blood on fire .
Two evenings later, Aurora received a glimpse of Nicholas's renewed purpose. She had already retired to bed when she heard a soft clink against her window pane, then another. Her startlement quickly turned to dismay when she realized someone was throwing pebbles and trying to get her attention.
Knowing it could only be Nicholas, she went to open the window and peer down. He stood in silver shadow beneath the oak tree, looking up at her.
Her heart did its usual somersault. She hadn't seen him at all today; in fact, she hadn't left the house. A hard rain had prevented her morning ride in the park, and Raven had had an afternoon engagement with her aunt. But the clouds had cleared and now a bright moon drenched the night.
"What are you doing, loitering beneath my window?" Aurora demanded in a whisper.
"I've come to rescue you and take you for a drive," he answered less quietly.
"In the dead of night?"
"It isn't even midnight yet. And you've been trapped inside all day."
"I have already retired for the night."
"Do you mean to invite me up there?"
"Of course not!"
"Then you had best come down here."
"Nicholas, I am in my nightclothes."
"I don't mind," he said with a wicked edge of amusement to his voice. "Get dressed and come down, Aurora. You don't want me knocking on your front door and waking the servants, I'm certain."
His implied threat exasperated her. "I have no intention of being alone with you in the middle of the night."
"I thought that might concern you, so I brought a lad with me. He's holding my horses as we speak. And I have a curricle."
When she hesitated, he called up softly. "Craven. What harm can there be in going for a spin? I can hardly ravish you in an open carriage."
What harm, indeed? Aurora thought wryly. She would be mad to put herself at the mercy of a reckless and charming rogue.
But as usual Nicholas would not take no for an answer. "Come down, love, before I have to climb up there and fetch you. I will meet you at the back entrance."
He turned and disappeared into the shadows, giving her no further chance to protest. Short of shouting after him, she was helpless to try to make him see reason.
With a sigh of exasperation, Aurora stepped back from the window. She could scarcely believe she was actually considering going for a midnight drive in the dark with Nicholas Sabine. And yet she couldn't deny the forbidden appeal of it. What in heaven's name was happening to her? Before meeting Nicholas she'd always been sedate and proper, a model of decorum. But now she was behaving like
a wanton.
And what is so wrong about that? a voice in her head prodded. You have been sensible and proper all your life. You can be a little risque for once.
Feeling very much like the Frenchwoman in the journal who had been seduced into sin by her captivating prince, Aurora dressed quickly and drew on a hooded cloak. The house was dark and silent as she crept downstairs and let herself out of the servants' entrance.
Nicholas was waiting for her outside as he'd promised. When he saw her, his smile turned quite brilliant. Aurora drew a sharp breath, suddenly filled with the dizzying pleasure of being near him.
A curricle was waiting at the end of the short drive, and just as he'd claimed, a youth held the pair of horses. Nicholas handed her up into the seat and climbed up after her.
"Wait here, if you please," he said to the boy. "We shall return shortly." With a flick of the reins, he sent the team off at a brisk trot.
Aurora held on to the seat rail while sending him an incredulous look, scarcely believing his audacity.
"I should have known better than to trust you," she said darkly when they were out of earshot. "You led me to believe your tiger would accompany us."
"Only because you would not have come with me otherwise."
"Where are you taking me?"
"Not far. Look around you, siren. Is this not better than being captive in your chaste bedchamber?"
It was a magnificent night, Aurora thought unwillingly. The cool June breeze on her face was exhilarating, the moonlight stirring as it bathed the silent streets. Yet her vexation at Nicholas prevented her full enjoyment. "You cannot make me believe you were thinking only of me when you lured me out here."
"Perhaps I wasn't, but can you fault me for wanting to be alone with a beautiful woman on a moonlit night?"
"Then you don't deny you are bent on seduction."
"There are no laws against seducing my own wife."
She raised her eyes to the sky. "Haven't you anything better to do than drive me to distraction?"
"I can think of nothing better, except for making love to you."
"Nicholas!"
"Actually," he added casually before she could finish, "Clune did invite me to join his Hellfire colleagues on a tour of the demimonde this evening, but I declined."
Aurora fell silent, disturbed by the image of Nicholas dallying with courtesans in an elegant London brothel. The thought of him making love to any other woman was distinctly troubling – which was absurd, since she had told him he was free to find his pleasures elsewhere.
She glanced up at him, at his strong profile that was chiseled by moonlight. He would have absolutely no trouble finding feminine companionship. He was devastatingly attractive, more sensual and exciting than any man she had ever known. He was also a rake and adventurer, accustomed to living dangerously and breaking hearts. She should know better than to make herself vulnerable this way, being alone with him.
"Why did you decline?" she murmured, not really wanting to hear the answer.
"Because the only woman I wanted was my wife."
She wouldn't dignify his provocative remark with an answer.
"What?" he teased softly when she remained mute. "No sharp rejoinder?"
She gave him a stern look. "I cannot credit that you would prefer me to an accomplished Cyprian."
"Ah, but I do, siren."
"Merely because, like Clune, you only want what you cannot have."
"That isn't why I want you so badly."
"Then why?" Aurora asked, curious in spite of herself.
"I wish I knew," Nicholas replied with surprising seriousness. "I've never been this attracted to any other woman before."
"What you are feeling is simple male…"
Nicholas supplied the word she was searching for. "Lust?" His mouth quirked wryly. "It is hardly simple, sweetheart. And it is far more than mere lust. It's more like a fierce craving."
"Well, you will just have to control it."
"I am trying my utmost, but I cannot control my imagination. I frequently have fantasies of you naked in my arms, did you know that?"
"Nicholas!"
"Please," he chided, "remember that my name is Brandon."
"If you don't behave," she declared in a fierce undertone, "I will demand that you turn this carriage around and take me home."
His amused expression sobered slightly. "Believe it or not, I do intend to behave this evening. I give you my word, my motives are completely altruistic for once. I only want you to have a moment of freedom."
She didn't know if she could trust him, but when he turned his head to look at her, his gaze was entirely serious. "Raven is worried for you. She thinks you're lonely and in need of company."
"Raven is mistaken. And even if I were in need of company, I would hardly choose you – a bold rogue who's determined to incite a scandal."
"I should think that as a duke's daughter you would find boldness appealing after being accustomed to servility all your life. Surely you don't want me fawning over you and treating you like fragile crystal?"
"I would like you to respect my wishes," she said coolly, "instead of trying to ride roughshod over me. You said I saved your life. For that I think I might be entitled to some measure of consideration."
"I am considering you, love. I'm thinking of your welfare. Admit it, you feel more alive when you're sparring with me, matching wits. My very presence stirs your blood."
"I do not want my blood stirred, Nicholas."
"Come now, can you honestly claim you don't enjoy being with me? Or that you would rather be safe in bed than here on a night like tonight?"
It was indeed magical. Aurora tilted her face up to the moon, soothed by its serene spell.
As if by mute agreement, they remained silent for a time, the only sound the clop-rattle of hooves and wheels on cobblestone. When they came to the entrance to Hyde Park, Nicholas turned off the street onto the gravel carriage path.
"I suppose you have a purpose for bringing me here?" Aurora said skeptically.
"You'll see," he replied.
They drove a short distance until the Serpentine came into view. Aurora caught her breath at the stunning beauty of the lake, which resembled a brilliant mirror.
Wordlessly Nicholas pulled off the path onto the lawn and negotiated past a grove of chestnut trees. With a tug on the reins, he drew the curricle to a halt.
Aurora sat speechless for a long moment. "I have never seen the park so peaceful and lovely," she said finally.
"You have never seen a lot of things. Would you care to sit by the water?"
When she nodded, he climbed down and tied the reins to a tree branch, then went around the rig and reached up to grasp her waist. As he lifted her down, Aurora felt his touch like a hot brand, while Nicholas suddenly froze, as if burned by the same scorching heat radiating through her.
"You aren't wearing a corset," he murmured, his voice suddenly husky.
"I had no time to put one on," she replied, flushing.
"I'm going to pretend I never discovered that."
Retrieving a blanket from the boot, he took her by the hand and drew her down past a copse of willows to the water's edge. He spread the blanket on the grassy bank, and when Aurora was seated, settled beside her.
For a long moment she simply sat there, staring in awe at the lovely, shining lake. "It's beautiful."
"Yes."
He wasn't looking at the water, but at her; she felt his scrutiny like a caress.
She wrapped her arms around her knees, looking up at the moon. A silver ring of mist surrounded the rim. Aurora drew a slow, deep breath, drinking in the serene beauty. The night air smelled of damp earth and sweet grass. "Thank you for bringing me here."
"My pleasure." He paused. "I did have an ulterior motive. I wanted to show you how much you're missing by locking yourself away in your prison."
"Indeed?" she murmured, less vexed than usual by his presumption.
"I would bet half m
y fortune that once you have a taste of freedom, you'll find it hard to return to your dull, proper existence."
She couldn't help but smile at his persistence. "You are still laboring under the misguided apprehension that I am discontent with my life."
"I don't believe it's a misapprehension. I think you are far lonelier than you will let yourself admit."
Aurora winced inwardly at the truth of his charge. No matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn't deny the deep ache of loneliness inside her.
Nicholas was still watching her. She could feel his penetrating gaze, probing her secrets.
"You would be happier if you opened yourself up to risks now and then," he said gently. "If you dared to take chances and damn the consequences."
Aurora stirred uncomfortably, wishing she could change the subject. "Like you do? Risking your life simply by being in the country?"
"Even that."
"I hardly think courting danger is the key to happiness."
Nicholas shrugged. "For me it is. Danger makes you feel alive, makes you appreciate living. You should celebrate it, not fear it."
She rested her cheek on her knees and studied him in turn. She already was risking danger simply by letting him near. Nicholas was danger. He was excitement. He was intensely alive. It was what set him apart from other men, she realized: his keen lust for life.
"Have you always been this way? This reckless and daring?"
"I'm afraid so. I was the bane of my father's existence."
"I can well imagine."
"I was rather wild in my youth," Nicholas admitted.
"Far beyond your youth, if the tales are true. Raven says you were the black sheep of your family until only a few years ago."
"Have you been talking to her about me?"
Aurora felt herself flush. "I asked her to tell me more about the stranger I married. It was a way to honor you in death, I suppose."
His smile was charmingly sensual. "I'm gratified."
The Passion n-2 Page 18
