Nicole Jordan (43 page)

“Harry is acquainted with him?” Geoffrey asked, puzzled.

Aurora returned an uncertain glance. “Nicholas has been posing as his American cousin, Brandon Deverill.”

“Ah, Deverill,” Geoffrey said wryly. “I heard an earful about the fellow when Harry recounted tales of his London excursion. My brother does indeed idolize him.”

“Your mother won’t be as forgiving, I imagine.”

“Only because she doesn’t yet know about my Simone. Once I tell her, she’ll be more amenable to losing you. If you like,” Geoffrey offered, “I shall escort you to your house and then to the docks. I take it that is where your Nicholas can be found?”

“Yes, but you needn’t put yourself to such trouble.”

“It is no trouble. And I confess I should like to meet the man who won your heart.”

Aurora turned to go, her mind whirling with anticipation and anxiety. What if Nicholas had already sailed?

Then she would simply follow, a determined voice replied in her head. If he left without her, then she would hire a ship to take her to America. She would not let Nicholas get away.

He owned her heart and nothing else mattered.

Almost an hour had passed before Aurora found herself nearing the docks, feverishly searching for Nicholas’s schooner, the
Talon
. The mist rising off the Thames obscured most of the ships alongside the wharf, but she remembered the general location from her last visit, and then she spied one vessel among the skeletal masts whose ghostly white sails had been raised.

The gangway was still in place for boarding, she saw with relief, although the crew was scurrying about, setting rigging and securing lines in preparation for casting off.

Geoffrey had some difficulty negotiating the gangway and winced when he stepped down onto the deck on his bad leg. They were immediately challenged by a seaman, who directed them to the captain. The captain, in turn, led them to the same cabin where Aurora had made love to Nicholas what seemed like a lifetime ago.

The cabin door was open, but at first she didn’t see Nicholas. The man lounging on the bunk was his cousin, Lucian Tremayne, Lord Wycliff, while the nobleman sprawled elegantly in a wooden chair was Lord Clune.

Nicholas stood with his back to her, staring out the porthole window at the dark night. Aurora felt her heart wrench with love. Thank God she wasn’t too late.

“Sir, you have visitors,” the captain announced before making a polite bow and withdrawing.

She saw Nicholas go totally still, but the other two gentlemen rose to their feet.

“I do believe I’ve won our wager after all,” Clune said in an amused drawl.

“So you have, Dare,” Lucian replied. “But this is one wager I don’t mind losing. Welcome, my lady. We were just bidding our American friend farewell.”

Nicholas turned slowly, as if not daring to let himself hope. His gaze riveted on her face, his eyes dark and intense as he searched hers.

Aurora took a step inside the small cabin and halted, suddenly at a loss for words. How could she say all the things she wanted, needed, to say to Nicholas in front of an audience?

When she remained mute, his gaze dropped to her traveling suit, then moved beyond her to Geoffrey. Nicholas froze, his expression turning bleak.

“So you have come to say good-bye,” he said tonelessly.

“No,” she replied, her own voice hoarse.

Geoffrey intervened then.

“I don’t believe we have met,” he said, entering the cabin and taking a step past Aurora. “I am March.” He offered his good arm to shake hands, but Nicholas made no attempt to accept.

“I understand why you would not welcome me,” Geoffrey remarked lightly, not taking offense. “But you needn’t be concerned. I am not your rival any longer. Aurora and I have reached an understanding.”

“An understanding?” Nicholas replied warily, his face still shuttered.

“Yes. I believe your wife has something to tell you.”

His gaze shifted again to Aurora, intense, questioning.

“I am not here to say good-bye,” she said, returning his gaze steadily. “I am going with you.”

For an instant she saw a blazing flash of what might be joy. Then suddenly his expression darkened with anger. He was looking beyond her at the doorway, Aurora realized.

Behind her she heard a voice she dreaded. “So, I wasn’t wrong,” Captain Gerrod said tersely. “You are Nicholas Sabine after all.”

Her heart faltering, Aurora glanced over her shoulder. Gerrod stood in the doorway, a deadly pistol trained directly at Nicholas’s heart.

Chapter Twenty-six

As he stared at the deadly pistol, Nick felt a jolt of emotion stab at his heart—not fear but fury. No way in blazes would he allow Gerrod to take him prisoner. Not now, when he could dare hope that heaven was within his grasp.

His fingers clenched around the crystal snifter in his hand. With his friends earlier tonight, he’d plowed halfway through a consoling bottle of brandy in an attempt to drown his sorrows, even knowing no amount of spirits could numb the pain of losing Aurora. But he’d sobered abruptly when she appeared like an angel sprung from his fevered imagination.

Then Gerrod had shown himself, evidently having followed her to the docks. Unless perhaps March had somehow arranged it in order to eliminate his chief rival…? But this was no time to worry about how Gerrod had found him.

The captain pushed his way into the cabin, brushing past both Aurora and March. “In the name of the Crown,” he intoned with no little satisfaction, “I am placing you under arrest, Sabine.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed as he measured the distance to the pistol. He could perhaps wrest the weapon away from Gerrod, but a struggle might well endanger Aurora. Was there a way other than physical violence? He wasn’t certain he could count on his friends’ intervention. They were British citizens, after all, and it would be treasonous to interfere with a naval officer in the execution of his duty. This was his fight, in any case.

When Nicholas remained silent, Gerrod took another step toward him. “What do you have to say for yourself, Saber?”

Nick smiled. “I say get the hell off my ship, Captain.”

Gerrod scowled. “I have every right to apprehend you. You
will
accompany me—”

“Or what? You will shoot me in cold blood?”

“If you force me to. But I would rather see you dancing on the end of a rope. There are a half dozen of my men waiting on the dock to escort you to Newgate prison, where your sentence will be carried out.”

Casually, without appearing to move, Nicholas balanced on the balls of his feet, preparing to spring. Just then, however, his cousin spoke up.

“It seems you are overzealous in your commitment to duty, Captain,” Lucian remarked calmly. “You have mistaken this man’s identity. I am fully prepared to vouch for Mr. Deverill.”

“As am I,” Dare added in an amused drawl.

“So you see, Captain, it will be your word against that of two peers of the realm.”

“Three peers,” Geoffrey said quietly.

Nick’s gaze shot to March. The man was willing to risk his honor for a stranger? If so, it clearly was for Aurora’s sake. But of course March would be under her spell. If he loved her, he would want her happiness above his own.

Nicholas felt another rush of searing emotions—including sympathy for his rival. He knew the agony of losing Aurora.

“You have my sincerest thanks, Lord March,” Nicholas said solemnly.

“You must admit,” Dare suggested to the captain, “those odds will be hard to beat.”

Anger crossed Gerrod’s features as he looked from one to the other of the lords. “You would lie to protect this…pirate? It is treason to abet a criminal.”

“That is where you are wrong,” Lucian replied. “This man is no criminal. He is an American royalist who has been granted sanctuary on British soil. And you, Captain, are acting illegally in trying to apprehend him.”

Gerrod’s fury only escalated, and he raised the pistol higher, waving it at Nick. Out of the corner of his eye, Nicholas saw Aurora move, but he didn’t dare take his attention from the weapon.

“By God,” the captain vowed, “you will not escape this time—” His tirade was cut off in midstream by a dull thud. A dazed look claimed his expression before he slowly slumped to the ground.

Nicholas felt his heart lodge in his throat. Aurora stood over the captain’s prone form, clutching a half-full brandy bottle in her hand. She had struck Gerrod over the head, Nick realized.

Her bold action had startled his friends as much as himself. They were staring at her with varying degrees of amazement.

Aurora clenched her jaw, looking calm but pale. “Did I…Is he dead?”

Nicholas bent over to relieve Gerrod of the pistol and pressed two fingers to the man’s neck pulse. “No, just stunned.”

His gaze lifted to Aurora. “Once again you surprise me, angel.”

“You said sometimes violence was warranted,” she declared, her tone defiant. “I considered this to be one of those times. He meant to shoot you.”

“He did indeed.” Rising to his feet, Nicholas handed the pistol to Dare, then went to Aurora. Taking the bottle from her, he set it and his glass on the nearby table and enfolded her in his arms.

“I couldn’t let him hurt you,” she said fiercely, gazing up at him.

“I am very glad, sweetheart,” he returned with a smile.

Just then Gerrod stirred, although he didn’t wake.

“Much as I regret having to interrupt you lovers, er…Brandon,” Dare drawled, “I believe we should decide what to do with our overeager friend.”

“We should fetch some line to tie him,” Lucian said. “I doubt he will be amenable otherwise.”

“Tie him?” Dare asked, amused. “Your ingenuity amazes me.”

Lucian flashed his wry half smile. “You might be surprised at the resourcefulness a man can develop when the stakes are high enough.”

Releasing Aurora with reluctance, Nicholas turned to rummage in a locker and came back with a length of rope and a knife. His cousin did the honors, kneeling down to bind Gerrod’s hands.

“I suppose you have a plan, Luce?” Dare remarked as Wycliff worked.

“I’ll take him away and keep him hidden until our friend Brandon sails.”

“What about his men?” March asked.

“I will simply order them to return to their posts. I doubt they will challenge me, especially if their captain is wearing a gag and cannot countermand me.”

“Gerrod will be livid that you interfered with his duty.”

“What of it? I am not about to let him deliver Nick to the hangman’s noose.”

“It may not come to hanging,” Dare mused aloud. “Not if Nick petitions the Prince Regent for a pardon.”

“Just what did you have in mind?” Nicholas asked with extreme interest.

“Buying a pardon. Pirate or not, you could no doubt convince Prinny of your innocence if you offer to fill his coffers.”

“It is certainly worth a shot,” Luce remarked.

He finished tying the knots just as Gerrod awakened.

Groaning, the captain raised his bound hands to his head and winced in pain. When he looked up dazedly, it was to find the Earl of Clune training his own pistol on him.

“You struck me…” Gerrod said in amazement. “You bastard…How dare you!”

“No,” Aurora replied, staring down at him. “I am the one who struck you.”

At the captain’s astonished look, Nicholas couldn’t repress a smile. “You should not have threatened me, Gerrod. My—” He stopped at the word
wife
, remembering the pretense he still had to maintain. “Lady Aurora is like a tigress when it comes to defending her loved ones.”

If looks could kill, Nick knew he would have been skewered by Gerrod’s malevolent glare.

Eventually the captain turned his angry focus to the other men in the room. “You obviously have been duped, my lords. I tell you, this man is not Brandon Deverill but a convicted pirate—”

“This stale claim is beginning to bore me,” Dare remarked. “Would you like a gag for the good captain, Luce?” Drawing out a clean handkerchief, he handed it to Wycliff.

Gerrod recoiled in horror. “Damn you, you will pay for this!” he threatened. “I will charge you all with treason!”

“I doubt you’ll succeed,” Lucian said mildly. “You’ll find that my word carries more weight with the Admiralty than yours. The navy owes me a few favors, in any case. And Lord March is considered a war hero.”

Almost wildly Gerrod looked to Aurora. “You will regret it if you go with that criminal, my lady. You will be considered a fugitive in England. You will never be able to return.”

She met Nicholas’s gaze across the small cabin. “I don’t care,” she said staunchly, her blue eyes soft.

He felt joy well within him, and it was all he could do to refrain from lunging across the room and taking her in his arms.

Just then Wycliff raised the gag to the captain’s mouth.

“You cannot do this!” Gerrod exclaimed, beginning to struggle.

Lucian simply grasped the captain by the throat and stared at him with narrowed eyes. “I hope you won’t put me to the trouble of dispatching you to your Maker. You could easily find yourself alone at sea, with no rescue ship in sight.”

Immediately Gerrod ceased his struggles.

Barbaric but effective,
Nick thought with satisfaction.

Gerrod looked as if he had swallowed bile.

Lucian gagged the captain, then hauled him to his feet. “We should be on our way and leave you two to prepare to sail.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Aurora said to Wycliff, her smile including Clune as well. “Our thanks to you both.”

Lucian raised an eyebrow. “For helping save his skin? You needn’t thank me. I’m rather fond of the rogue. If you wish, I will make your apologies to your acquaintances for your sudden departure.”

Nicholas saw Aurora’s smile fade. “What is it, angel?”

“Raven…I wasn’t able to say farewell. And I am apprehensive about leaving her alone in England.”