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."
"How ill-mannered of me to disappoint him," Nicholas replied sardonically.
"This is hardly the moment for levity," Clune commented coolly. "Gerrod considers you gallows bait and is quite anxious to remedy the mistake that was made in letting you slip away. Actually, he was making inquiries about your American cousin Deverill. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he suspects your impersonation."
"What if he does?"
"Then it makes your situation doubly precarious. I would play least in sight, if I were you. In fact, this might be an excellent time to take yourself back to the Colonies."
"Or it might be a good time to pay the zealous captain a visit."
"You cannot be serious," Clune said with a frown.
A muscle hardened in Nick's jaw, while a grim smile curved his lips.
"Devil take it, I know that look," Lucian observed. "You're spoiling for a fight, Nick – and I cannot blame you. But in this case, I agree with Dare. The odds are too much against you. It would be far wiser to relinquish your desire for retribution and get yourself safely away. There may come a point in the future when you can confront Gerrod, but on your own turf."
"Perhaps." Grimly Nicholas turned back to the window, the tension in his muscles screaming for release. He would indeed relish the exultation of a physical fight and the chance to lock horns again with Gerrod. But his cousin was right, Nick knew. It would be suicidal to act now with the entire British navy against him. There were smarter ways to fight his battle with Gerrod.
It was the battle for Aurora's heart that he didn't dare lose.
Nicholas locked his jaw against the cold wave of dread that swept through him. By rights he should be alarmed by the news of Gerrod's blood quest. But the captain wasn't the cause of the cloying fear in his chest.
What terrified him was Aurora and the choice she intended to make in husbands.