"But neither am I a whole man."
"Of course you are a whole man. Losing an arm doesn't make you any less the dear person I've always cared for."
His expression remained strangely solemn.
Then suddenly he shut his eyes and raised his hand to his temple, as if in blinding pain. "These headaches…"
"Perhaps you should sit down," she said urgently, putting an arm around his waist.
"Yes." He allowed her to assist him over to a chair and sank down heavily.
"If you don't mind… I would like to rest." He sounded short of breath. "My stamina… fades after a very short time and leaves me weak as a mouse."
"Yes, of course. I will let you be alone. May I fetch you something before I go? A cool compress? Some wine? Laudanum?"
"Thank you, no. Laudanum only fogs my mind more."
"Very well, then…"
Before she could turn away, though, he took her hand in his, gazing up at her with his blue eyes. "I won't desert you, Aurora."
"Thank you, Geoffrey," she barely whispered. "But please… don't worry about this. Just concentrate on getting well. We can settle our future when you are feeling better."
Nodding, he leaned his head back and shut his eyes. With all her heart, Aurora wished there was something more she could do to comfort him.
Leaving the library, she walked slowly down the hall, dimly aware of a sweeping sense of desolation. She couldn't abandon Geoffrey now, she knew. It would be a final betrayal. No matter what her feelings were for Nicholas, she couldn't simply walk away from her childhood friend to start a new life in America with another man. She couldn't hurt Geoffrey that way. She would have to remain in England. She would have to ask Nicholas to seek an annulment…
She was so preoccupied with her bleak thoughts that she didn't hear Harry racing down the stairs until he was almost upon her.
"Rory! Rory!" Ignoring her start, he came to a skidding halt on the checkered tile floor and flung his arms around her joyously. "Can you believe the glad news? Geoffrey is alive! Now you will be my sister and you will live with us and we can ride together every day."
Aurora managed a faint smile, but inside, she was aching. She had thought her choice was difficult before, but now, no matter what her decision, she would hurt one of the two men who claimed to love her.
"You have the Devil's own luck, Nick," Lucian Tremayne, Earl of Wycliff, said with amusement. "When I returned to London three days ago and read your message, saying you were alive and had assumed Brand's identity… well, I don't recall ever receiving a more pleasant shock. I can still scarcely believe my eyes. To think, even the British navy couldn't kill you."
"It was a near thing," Nicholas replied soberly as he stared down into his brandy glass.
"I regret I was out of the country when you arrived in England."
Nick shrugged. "I'll forgive you, Luce, if you'll forgive me for commandeering one of your schooners."
"Don't mention it. You would have done the same for me, had I found myself facing the hangman. We held a memorial service in your honor, were you aware? I invited half the ton and made all my stuffy relatives attend. Solely for appearance's sake, you understand. A public show of support for your widow. Now I'm sorry I went to all that expense for naught."
Hearing the affection in his cousin's jest, Nick glanced up. Lucian was tall and lithely built, with dark, curling hair and lean, aristocratic features that were barely saved from arrogance by a ready half smile. Usually Nicholas enjoyed their male camaraderie. In this instance, however, he was in no mood to match wits with Lucian or endure his cousin's good-natured ribbing.
Setting down his brandy glass, he rose and went to stand at the French window, staring out. By now Aurora would have spoken to her former betrothed. Had she come to any decision? It was possible – even likely – that seeing March again could sway her…
Nicholas clenched his fists as tension raced through his veins like fire. He needed every ounce of control he possessed to clamp down on the turmoil of emotions inside him: jealousy, anger, fear… In agitation, he turned to pace the carpet of his cousin's study once again.
"What is making you so on edge?" Lucian asked finally. "You're acting like a caged tiger. If I had to guess, I would say you are having woman trouble."
"You could say that," Nick answered tersely.
"Your wife, I take it?"
He paused long enough to rake a hand through his hair. "Aurora never wanted our marriage, but now that we're wed… I've asked her to return to America with me. She was leaning in my favor when she learned March had risen from the grave – " He pinned Lucian with a dark glance. "I can't believe you are the one who found March. Whatever made you search for him in the first place? Was he working for you?"
"Not directly, no. He was decoding enemy dispatches for the Foreign Office, but we never crossed paths professionally. I only learned the particulars about his disappearance at sea after I began helping Lady Aurora become established as your widow. Then on my last trip to France, I heard a rumor… Reportedly a fair-haired Englishman had been badly injured in a shipwreck and was in hiding near the coast. It seemed logical to wonder if it could possibly be March, since his body was never found – although I couldn't imagine why he wouldn't come forward. My best guess was that his memory had been impaired, and that turned out to be right. I'm sorry his return has proven such an inconvenience for you."
Nicholas shrugged. "I can't say I would rather you hadn't found him. I don't really wish the man dead."
"But you would prefer he had stayed away for a while longer?"
He smiled grimly. "A few more days would have been enough. A week at most."
Lucian took a sip of brandy as he contemplated his cousin. "She is your wife, Nick. You have the right to demand that she live with you."
"It isn't nearly that simple."
"No? Why not?"
"Because I don't want an unwilling wife. What joy would I find in our union if Aurora found only unhappiness? She saved my life, Luce. How can I repay her kindness by compelling her to live with me? No, the decision has to be hers."
"Your persuasive skills are better than any I've ever seen, including mine. If you want her, why don't you simply convince her that she wants you for her husband?"
"What the devil do you think I've been trying to do for the past month?"
"There is always abduction," Lucian suggested lightly. "That would buy you more time, at least."
"That isn't an option. I would be a fool to resort to physical force. It would only remind Aurora of her bastard of a father."
Pursing his lips, Lucian shook his head in feigned amazement. "What has happened to you, cuz? Did your near brush with death affect your mind? The Nicholas Sabine I know would never have refrained from even drastic action to get what he wanted."
A muscle flexed in Nick's jaw. "This isn't some game to be won, with Aurora the prize. I once thought so, but that was before I knew her."
"I suppose you fell in love."
"Yes. I fell in love," Nicholas said quietly. With a woman whose heart was already taken. His frustration surging anew, he went to stare out the window again.
There was a long silence while Lucian digested that intelligence. "So you will now just let her go?"
"I may have to," Nick replied grimly. "If she loves March and wants to be with him…"
"I can't imagine that you would simply allow her to choose another man over you."
"Laugh if you will, Luce, but her happiness means more to me than my own. I know that's hard for you to grasp, since you've never been in love – "
"I am not laughing, I assure you," Lucian said with surprising solemnity. "I've never had the misfortune of experiencing that malady, but I can understand its effects. To be truthful, I was considering entering the fickle lists of love myself. I've been thinking of taking a wife."