Nicole Jordan - The Passion

"Don't mention it. You would have done the same for me, had I found myself facing the hangman. We held a memorial service in your honor, were you aware? I invited half the ton and made all my stuffy relatives attend. Solely for appearance's sake, you understand. A public show of support for your widow. Now I'm sorry I went to all that expense for naught."

Hearing the affection in his cousin's jest, Nick glanced up. Lucian was tall and lithely built, with dark, curling hair and lean, aristocratic features that were barely saved from arrogance by a ready half smile. Usually Nicholas enjoyed their male camaraderie. In this instance, however, he was in no mood to match wits with Lucian or endure his cousin's good-natured ribbing.

Setting down his brandy glass, he rose and went to stand at the French window, staring out. By now Aurora would have spoken to her former betrothed. Had she come to any decision? It was possible – even likely – that seeing March again could sway her…

Nicholas clenched his fists as tension raced through his veins like fire. He needed every ounce of control he possessed to clamp down on the turmoil of emotions inside him: jealousy, anger, fear… In agitation, he turned to pace the carpet of his cousin's study once again.

"What is making you so on edge?" Lucian asked finally. "You're acting like a caged tiger. If I had to guess, I would say you are having woman trouble."

"You could say that," Nick answered tersely.

"Your wife, I take it?"

He paused long enough to rake a hand through his hair. "Aurora never wanted our marriage, but now that we're wed… I've asked her to return to America with me. She was leaning in my favor when she learned March had risen from the grave – " He pinned Lucian with a dark glance. "I can't believe you are the one who found March. Whatever made you search for him in the first place? Was he working for you?"

"Not directly, no. He was decoding enemy dispatches for the Foreign Office, but we never crossed paths professionally. I only learned the particulars about his disappearance at sea after I began helping Lady Aurora become established as your widow. Then on my last trip to France, I heard a rumor… Reportedly a fair-haired Englishman had been badly injured in a shipwreck and was in hiding near the coast. It seemed logical to wonder if it could possibly be March, since his body was never found – although I couldn't imagine why he wouldn't come forward. My best guess was that his memory had been impaired, and that turned out to be right. I'm sorry his return has proven such an inconvenience for you."

Nicholas shrugged. "I can't say I would rather you hadn't found him. I don't really wish the man dead."

"But you would prefer he had stayed away for a while longer?"

He smiled grimly. "A few more days would have been enough. A week at most."

Lucian took a sip of brandy as he contemplated his cousin. "She is your wife, Nick. You have the right to demand that she live with you."

"It isn't nearly that simple."

"No? Why not?"

"Because I don't want an unwilling wife. What joy would I find in our union if Aurora found only unhappiness? She saved my life, Luce. How can I repay her kindness by compelling her to live with me? No, the decision has to be hers."

"Your persuasive skills are better than any I've ever seen, including mine. If you want her, why don't you simply convince her that she wants you for her husband?"

"What the devil do you think I've been trying to do for the past month?"

"There is always abduction," Lucian suggested lightly. "That would buy you more time, at least."

"That isn't an option. I would be a fool to resort to physical force. It would only remind Aurora of her bastard of a father."

Pursing his lips, Lucian shook his head in feigned amazement. "What has happened to you, cuz? Did your near brush with death affect your mind? The Nicholas Sabine I know would never have refrained from even drastic action to get what he wanted."

A muscle flexed in Nick's jaw. "This isn't some game to be won, with Aurora the prize. I once thought so, but that was before I knew her."

"I suppose you fell in love."

"Yes. I fell in love," Nicholas said quietly. With a woman whose heart was already taken . His frustration surging anew, he went to stare out the window again.

There was a long silence while Lucian digested that intelligence. "So you will now just let her go?"

"I may have to," Nick replied grimly. "If she loves March and wants to be with him…"

"I can't imagine that you would simply allow her to choose another man over you."

"Laugh if you will, Luce, but her happiness means more to me than my own. I know that's hard for you to grasp, since you've never been in love – "

"I am not laughing, I assure you," Lucian said with surprising solemnity. "I've never had the misfortune of experiencing that malady, but I can understand its effects. To be truthful, I was considering entering the fickle lists of love myself. I've been thinking of taking a wife."

"You? The elusive Lord Wycliff?" Glancing over his shoulder, Nicholas eyed his cousin with skepticism. Lucian was the most sought after bachelor in the country, with the kind of titled wealth and striking good looks that made debutantes swoon. Matchmaking mamas had been laying traps for him for years – and he had avoided them all expertly. "Do I know the lady?"

"No. I haven't chosen her yet."

"But you're prepared to shackle yourself to a bride?"

"It isn't the bride that interests me. I just thought it time I sired myself an heir."

This time Nicholas really did stare.

Lucian grinned his charming half smile. "Don't look as if I've suddenly sprouted antlers. I am not particularly fond of my relatives, other than you and Brandon. If I die, I would like to leave some sort of legacy behind. The thought of having a son – my own flesh and blood – has lately been growing in appeal."

"If you die, Luce?" Nicholas said slowly. "Is there something you haven't told me?"

Lucian's eyes grew hooded. "I had a… fateful experience recently. A glimpse of my own mortality. It's surprising how an incident like that makes you reassess your priorities in life."

"It's not surprising in the least," Nicholas said grimly. "In fact, it's quite common. What happened?"

Lucian remained deep in thought for a moment, as if recalling a dark memory. Nick wasn't certain what his cousin would have replied, for just then the earl's major-domo appeared to announce a visitor. "Lord Clune to see Mr. Deverill, my lord."

Lucian glanced at Nicholas, who nodded. "Show him here, if you please," his lordship commanded.

Lord Clune greeted both men with an affable smile. "Isn't it a bit early for tippling?"

"We are toasting Nick's return from the dead," Lucian replied mildly.

"I will happily drink to that." Clune glanced at the crystal snifter in Lucian's hand. "Your prime stock, I trust?"

"Of course." Lucian gestured toward the decanter on the side table. "Help yourself. So what brings you here, Dare?"

"An interesting encounter at my club," he said, pouring himself a glass. "With an enemy of yours, Nick."

Turning from the window, Nicholas leaned against the frame, giving his friend his full attention. "Which one?"

Clune smiled. "You have so many that you need ask? Captain Richard Gerrod of His Majesty's navy."

Nicholas felt himself scowl.

"Gerrod?" Lucian repeated thoughtfully. "I seem to recall that someone named Gerrod left his card here yesterday when I was out. Do I know him?"

"He is the overeager patriot who captured Nick and sentenced him to hang for piracy. Gerrod is in London, and he is clearly after blood. Your blood, Nick. Reportedly when he learned of your escape from the hangman, he was livid."