"I do hope… well, I would like to see Aurora happy. I'm certain she is lonely, being confined to her house for days on end due to her mourning. Your presence here will at least offer her a diversion. How long do you plan to stay?"
"I haven't yet decided. A few weeks, perhaps. The news of my escape will reach England sooner or later, and with a price on my head, the risk of discovery will be greater." His sister's expression grew concerned, but he forestalled her comment. "You had best be off on your ride, Miss Kendrick, before we invite comment."
Raven nodded reluctantly. "Where can I find you if I should need to speak to you?"
"I intend to take rooms at the Clarendon."
She kissed his cheek, then gave him a saucy smile as she accepted the Thoroughbred's reins to lead it from the stall. "Perhaps I will see you in the park some morning, Mr. Deverill!"
Nicholas found himself smiling fondly as he watched her leave. When he was alone, however, his smile faded. As was her nature, Raven had gone straight to the heart of the matter: whether or not he and Aurora intended to acknowledge their marriage.
For a moment he wondered if he should reconsider his plan to claim her as his wife. He wanted Aurora physically; there was no longer the slightest doubt in his mind. Kissing her this morning had been as stunningly sensual as four months ago, when he'd taken her luscious, virginal body in their marriage bed. The hunger he'd felt for her then hadn't diminished in the least; if anything, the craving was stronger.
The feeling was more than lust, though. It was like a barely banked fire, quietly smoldering, waiting to be kindled to an uncontrollable rage. And though she'd tried to resist it, Aurora had responded to him with an answering fire.
His loins hardened merely at the remembrance.
Nick ran a hand roughly through his now-dark hair. It had taken an almost superhuman effort to sever their embrace this morning. Yet he hadn't trusted himself to continue touching her without making love to her. And that, to his mind, would cement their marriage.
If they were eventually to dissolve their union, he would damned well have to keep his hands off her. It wouldn't be at all fair or honorable to slake his desire if he only meant to abandon Aurora. And if he were indiscreet enough to be discovered in her bed – or worse, get her with child – the scandal would be unavoidable. He most certainly didn't want to mire her in scandal, or his sister, either.
Nicholas frowned. If he had any sense, he would probably give up the notion of trying to make their marriage work. Aurora was adamantly set against their union. And she had absolved him of any responsibility for her. He needn't feel any guilt over shirking his obligation to her, needn't let his conscience flay him, as it insisted on doing.
Her determined resistance of his advances perplexed him, though. She had surrendered eagerly enough on their wedding night. Since then, however, she had subtly changed from the innocent young lady he had wed. She seemed stronger now, more rigid and self-contained, fiercely determined to close herself off from any emotion that resembled passion.
But she had been hurt before, he had to remember. She'd lost the man she loved, and the experience had left a deep scar. Nick felt himself tense with jealousy each time she mentioned her former betrothed, despite the fact that possessiveness was unlike him. But the man was dead. And he should make allowances for her past grief.
Besides… he thought he could make her forget her loss if he put his mind to it. He had never yet met a woman who was unsusceptible to his charm when he chose to exert it. He could overcome her objections to their marriage if he truly wished t
o.
So, did he wish to?
Was he mad to pursue a woman who was so clearly unwilling to be his wife? Certainly it would be safer to leave England altogether. But then, he had never found much appeal in safety. Since he could first crawl, he had taken risks purely for the excitement of it. He preferred living on the edge, probably because danger made him feel so intensely alive. Accepting fate's challenges was a thrill more intoxicating than any opiate.
And winning Aurora would be the most daunting of challenges.
Yet he was more convinced than ever that her cool elegance concealed a fire deep inside. Over the years he had learned to trust his gut instincts, for they'd saved him more than once. And every instinct he possessed told him she would be worth the effort.
And then there was his duty. He owed it to his father to shoulder his responsibilities.
Slowly Nicholas nodded. He wouldn't abandon his plan to claim Aurora. He would remain in England for as long as it took, until he convinced her to make their marriage real.
That momentous decision made, Nicholas turned to leave the stall. Feeling a heavy weight press against his hip, he realized he'd forgotten about the book Aurora had given him, which lay in the pocket of his cloak.
Curiously he drew out the jeweled journal. A Passion of the Heart.
His mouth twisted in a wicked smile. It was difficult to imagine his regal, well-bred, ladylike wife reading a tale of erotica, yet evidently there were hidden facets to the woman he had wed. Facets he was anxious to discover.
For now, however, he needed to find the proprietor of the livery, so he could hire a carriage and horses for his time in London.
Chapter Eleven
He challenged my heart, daring me to open myself to passion.
Aurora felt a thrill of exhilaration as the ground rushed beneath her mount's thundering hooves. She bent over the gray's neck, calling encouragement to the powerful horse as it strained to best the black Thoroughbred racing alongside her.
The cool wind whipped her widow's veil back from her face and stung her eyes, but she was as reluctant to lose the race as her horse. When the two competitors finally neared the end of the sandy stretch of turf, Aurora's Cronos was ahead of Raven's Satan by a full length.