"What happened then?" Nick asked in a hard voice.
"Well, the duke looked as if he would have an apoplectic fit, trying to control himself. He warned Aurora to get out of his sight, in fact, to leave his house entirely – saying that she was no longer his daughter – and then he stormed out."
Raven drew a measured breath. "Aurora was shaking, but she was more concerned for poor Danby, who had struck his head on a table when he was pushed. It was only later, after he had been tended to, that she confessed that sort of violence from her father was not uncommon. I think Aurora was vastly relieved he had washed his hands of her. She wouldn't say anything else against him, but later O'Malley was able to glean more from her servants than she would divulge to me. The tales only confirmed what I saw, that the duke is a terrible tyrant."
"Tyrant is obviously too tame a word," Nick said sardonically.
Raven nodded. "From what I gather, Aurora had to keep others safe from his rages for years, at no little cost to herself. That wasn't the first time he had threatened to strike her."
Nick's brows snapped together in a scowl of disbelief. "Eversley beat her? His own daughter?"
"It's monstrous, I know. But his servants paid even more dearly for his temper. Reportedly he took a crop to a groom once and nearly blinded the poor man."
Nick felt his gut tighten, repulsed by the thought of any man taking his anger out on defenseless dependents. And the idea of Aurora being at Eversley's mercy sickened him.
"Every one of her servants," Raven added quietly, "says that Aurora did her best to protect them from her father's fits of violence. More than once she had to physically intervene. And when he turned them out without a reference for the slightest infraction, she found them positions elsewhere. She never forgot them, either. When she set up her own household several months ago, she searched out those who had suffered at her father's hands and offered them employment. At least two of them were nearly destitute and were so pitifully grateful… It is small wonder they think Aurora is a saint."
"No, it's no wonder," he replied tersely, struggling to keep his anger in check. When he'd proposed to her, Aurora had implied her father would be angry at her marriage, but never could he have imagined she would be in actual danger.
"What are you thinking?" Raven asked, eyeing his scowling face.
The smile Nick gave was wintery. "About how much I would enjoy ten minutes alone with the duke."
"I know," Raven said, understanding. "He deserves to be taught what it is like being at the mercy of someone stronger and more powerful. But you cannot reveal yourself to him, Nicholas. You are supposed to be in disguise."
His jaw hardened in frustration at the reminder, but then his tension eased. As Nicholas Sabine, he was severely constrained by the need for secrecy, but as Brandon Deverill, he was under no such restrictions. He could repay the duke for all the grief the illustrious bastard had caused his daughter…
"Now what are you thinking?" Raven asked with a frown.
"That the day will come when the duke receives his just desserts," Nick replied enigmatically.
Apparently satisfied, Raven turned to reshelve the book she had been pretending to read, then added thoughtfully, "I'm certain her father is the main reason Aurora is so concerned about propriety. It is not that she is afraid of defying convention per se, but because the duke threatened her. He vowed that if she caused any further scandal, he would whip her like a stableboy and lock her away where she could no longer sully his name. That is why she is so careful to observe her widowhood, why she doesn't go out in society. She doesn't want to give her father any ammunition to use against her. She knows what he is capable of."
Raven turned back to Nicholas. "But I hope you see now that her concern for your safety is not really irrational at all. It has become second nature for her to worry about others, to try to protect them from harm."
Nick nodded slowly. It explained so much about Aurora. Why she claimed to want a quiet, serene life. Why she seemed afraid of passion. Why she had chosen a reportedly intellectual milquetoast like March to love. After being subjected to her father's fits of temper all her life, she would abhor any emotion that was too intense.
It explained, too, Nick realized, why she had reacted like a mother tigress when she'd seen him being beaten on the quay in St. Kitts; why she had intervened to save a total stranger. And why she had wed him – a pirate and accused murderer – despite all the serious disadvantages. She had wanted to escape her father and his rages.
Her widowhood provided her the safe haven she yearned for, but in reality, she had turned it into a prison, where emotion, desire, passion, had no place.
Scowling, Nick stared unseeingly at the rows of leather-bound volumes before him. He finally was beginning to understand what drove Aurora. Her reserve was far more ingrained and complex than he had first thought, but at least now he could better see what he was up against, and why she resisted him so fiercely. He imperiled her haven, threatened her passionless existence.
His resolve hardening, Nick set his jaw in determination. The task of teaching Aurora to trust him, to open up to him, would be more difficult than he ever imagined. But somehow he would find a way to free her from the joyless prison she had deliberately created for herself.
Chapter Thirteen
He made me feel intensely alive . He made my heart sing and set my blood on fire .
Two evenings later, Aurora received a glimpse of Nicholas's renewed purpose. She had already retired to bed when she heard a soft clink against her window pane, then another. Her startlement quickly turned to dismay when she realized someone was throwing pebbles and trying to get her attention.
Knowing it could only be Nicholas, she went to open the window and peer down. He stood in silver shadow beneath the oak tree, looking up at her.
Her heart did its usual somersault. She hadn't seen him at all today; in fact, she hadn't left the house. A hard rain had prevented her morning ride in the park, and Raven had had an afternoon engagement with her aunt. But the clouds had cleared and now a bright moon drenched the night.
"What are you doing, loitering beneath my window?" Aurora demanded in a whisper.
"I've come to rescue you and take you for a drive," he answered less quietly.
"In the dead of night?"
"It isn't even midnight yet. And you've been trapped inside all day."
"I have already retired for the night."
"Do you mean to invite me up there?"
"Of course not!"
"Then you had best come down here."
"Nicholas, I am in my nightclothes."
"I don't mind," he said with a wicked edge of amusement to his voice. "Get dressed and come down, Aurora. You don't want me knocking on your front door and waking the servants, I'm certain."
His implied threat exasperated her. "I have no intention of being alone with you in the middle of the night."
"I thought that might concern you, so I brought a lad with me. He's holding my horses as we speak. And I have a curricle."
When she hesitated, he called up softly. "Craven. What harm can there be in going for a spin? I can hardly ravish you in an open carriage."
What harm, indeed? Aurora thought wryly. She would be mad to put herself at the mercy of a reckless and charming rogue.
But as usual Nicholas would not take no for an answer. "Come down, love, before I have to climb up there and fetch you. I will meet you at the back entrance."
He turned and disappeared into the shadows, giving her no further chance to protest. Short of shouting after him, she was helpless to try to make him see reason.