Aurora knew she should rebuff his casual flattery, but she was too distracted even to respond.
The street was crowded with any manner of vehicles, but the servants leaped to do the earl's bidding, and Aurora's carriage was summoned in short order.
"I have an early engagement tomorrow," Clune said as he handed her into the barouche, "but I hope to see you some morning in the park."
"Very well, Lord Clune," Aurora replied, just wishing to be rid of him.
"Sweet dreams, my dear."
She scarcely heard his courteous behest, for as the door closed behind her, a strong hand reached out to support her elbow and settle her on the seat.
Aurora bit back a gasp, while her heart rose to her throat. In the dim interior she could make out a shadowy figure beside her. Nicholas.
She could only stare as the carriage began to move forward. She had not dreamed him. He was truly the man she had wed, and the same sensations quivered through her at his nearness, just as powerful as they'd been four months ago.
His tone, however, lacked any of its previous warmth when he spoke. "Would you care to tell me what that was about?"
"About?" Aurora said rather breathlessly.
"Clune's pursuit of you."
"He is not pursuing me."
Nicholas reached toward her and removed her silver mask, evidently wanting to see her face. "You expect me to believe he feels no interest in you?"
Taken aback by his tone, she gazed at Nicholas warily. "He was simply being kind, accompanying me to my carriage."
"And you are so very appreciative of his kindness." His voice held a hard edge of what could be anger. "Have you forgotten your husband so soon, Aurora?"
"I never forgot you," she replied earnestly.
"No? You are hardly the picture of the grieving widow. Within four months of my supposed death, my lovely widow is attending masquerades and making assignations with noted rakehells."
Aurora's confusion at his unexpected attack melted into annoyance. "I have had enough criticism from my father regarding my conduct, Nicholas. I don't require it from you as well."
"Criticism seems deserved in this instance."
"I assure you," she retorted, "until now I have made every effort to avoid any hint of scandal. I attended tonight's ball for Raven's sake, because she begged me to – But I cannot comprehend why I must defend myself to you."
There was a pause. Aurora could feel Nicholas's gaze searching her. "So you weren't encouraging Clune?" His tone seemed to soften.
"No, not in the least. Our relationship is not what you're implying. He is merely a distant acquaintance. He is also one of the few people who never condemned me for my ill-considered marriage."
Nicholas's pause was longer this time. "Have these past few months been difficult for you, then?"
"You might say so," Aurora replied with an edge of cynicism. "I gained more than a little notoriety when I wed you, a criminal on the gallows. My father was outraged…" She bit off the remark, not wanting to dwell on her father's violent reaction. "Suffice it to say that I am no longer received in certain polite circles."
"I regret you had to suffer because of me," Nicholas said finally.
A little mollified, she studied him. Her eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the carriage, and in the moonlight filtering through the window, she could just make out his handsome features. He was no figment of her fevered imagination. He was the same incredibly vital man she remembered, every inch flesh and blood and rock-hard muscle, with the same strong face, the same fathomless eyes, the same sensuous mouth… She stopped herself abruptly.
"It has not been so bad, to be truthful," she said. "Your cousin Wycliff was extraordinarily helpful, offering the protection of his name and consequence. And he saw to all the financial particulars, just as you requested of him in your letter. Your settlement was more than generous, Nicholas. It allowed me to purchase a house of my own here in London."
His dark eyes held hers. "But you've come to regret your decision to wed me."
"No." She shook her head. "I don't regret it. You saved me from a repugnant marriage and allowed me independence from my father. It is just that… neither of us intended our union to last. We both thought it would end when… when you…"
"When I died. That still doesn't change the fact that we are legally wed."
A troubled frown creased her brow. "I don't see how we can possibly acknowledge our marriage, even if we wished to. You cannot risk having your identity discovered. Revealing you as my husband would ensure your arrest at the very least, and likely your death."
"I told you, I don't intend to reveal myself. I am here as my cousin Brandon."
"That disguise will be flimsy at best. Even with the change to your hair, you are sure to be recognized."
"I don't think so. I haven't spent much time in England lately. Three years ago I visited for an extended period, but my last trip was very brief."
"Clune remembers you well enough. Just this evening he was recounting tales of your wilder exploits. And he is a very clever man, despite his appearance of indolence."
When Nicholas remained silent, Aurora's gaze raked over his pirate's attire. He wore a black cloak over his tunic now, tied loosely at the neck, but she could see the lethal-looking saber at his side.
"How can you hope to keep your identity secret," she asked, "if you insist on flaunting yourself this way? It was incredibly brazen of you to appear in public dressed as a pirate."
His teeth flashed white in the darkness. "I thought it perfectly appropriate."
Aurora found herself drawing a breath of exasperation at his recklessness. "You cannot be seen with me, Nicholas. I would never be able to explain your presence."
"But you can. You can simply say that I am your late husband's cousin. With such a close familial relationship, our acquaintance will be considered unexceptional."
"You seem to be forgetting one very important matter."
"And what is that?"
"Your sister. You should think of Raven when you contemplate such a rash scheme. If the truth comes out and you're hanged, I, as your wife, would be instantly embroiled in a scandal, and as my ward, Raven would be tarnished by the same brush. Surely you don't want to jeopardize her chances for a good match."
"No. That's the last thing I would want, after going to all this trouble to see her established in society."
She contemplated him for a long moment. "Do you seriously want me for your wife?"
His expression remained enigmatic. "I don't see that I have much choice."
His resignation surprised her. She had expected him to be as eager to find a way out of their dilemma as she was.
"Nicholas," Aurora said slowly, hoping logic would make him reconsider, "we should be sensible about this. There are any number of reasons why a true marriage between us would never work. You are American, and I am English – and our countries are at war. You're an adventurer, one who embraces violence, while I… well, I am not adventuresome in the least, and I abhor any sort of violence. And furthermore, we… we don't love each other."
She hesitated, finding it strangely unsettling to present this last argument. Whatever she felt for Nicholas Sabine was most certainly not love. "I don't love you – any more than you love me. You only wed me for your sister's sake. Marriage should be about love and commitment, not an act of desperation."
His jaw tensed momentarily when she mentioned the word love. But then he relaxed back in his seat with a rueful frown, crossing his arms over his chest and lazily stretching out his long legs. "No, there is no love between us," he admitted.
Unaccountably Aurora winced when Nicholas agreed so readily. It was absurd to feel spurned simply because he disavowed any love for her. A reckless adventurer like Nicholas Sabine was unlikely to give his heart to any woman, particularly one to whom he'd been shackled under duress.