"You asked him to sever the marriage?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why?" She searched Geoffrey's face. His blue eyes were solemn, penetrating.

"I am curious about your reasoning," he said slowly. "Whether you meant to end it for my sake, or because that is what you truly wanted."

Aurora looked down at her clasped hands, struggling to hide the despair welling in her eyes.

"You love him, don't you." It was not a question.

She felt her eyes blurring as she nodded. For weeks now she had fought admitting her love. She had thought she could save herself from heartbreak by pushing Nicholas away. But she knew now that her heart would break if she lost him.

"Yes, I love him." The hot tears behind her burning eyes finally spilled over. "Geoffrey, I am so sorry."

"Aurora… don't cry, please…"

Mutely she shook her head, torn at having to choose between loyalty and love. She had wanted to honor her pledge to marry Geoffrey, yet she knew she couldn't go through with it. She couldn't share her life with this man, no matter how much she cared for him. Not when her heart belonged so completely to Nicholas.

As she fought against her tears, Geoffrey sighed. "What a tangle fate has made of our lives," he murmured, his tone filled with irony. "Aurora… look at me, please…"

With a forefinger, he lifted her chin. "There is no reason for you to end your marriage." His smile was bittersweet. "I am honored you were prepared to sacrifice your future for me, my dear, but I couldn't let you make such a noble gesture. It wouldn't be fair to you, or to me, either. You would be miserable, and I would not be happy, knowing that you have feelings for another man. I want no ghosts in my marriage bed."

She swallowed convulsively, her heart twisting with hurt for him. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"Yes, of course I can forgive you, Aurora. We cannot choose whom we love."

"I do love you, Geoffrey. Just not the way you deserve." She forced herself to meet his gentle eyes. "You deserve true love, Geoffrey. Our betrothal… was always based more on friendship than love, on expedience rather than emotion. We never felt real passion for each other. Not the overpowering kind that starts wars and crumbles empires."

When Geoffrey took her hand, she wiped fiercely at her eyes, trying to regain control of her emotions. To her surprise, though, he no longer seemed troubled.

"I understand what you are trying to say, Aurora. True love is a fire in the heart. It is a joyous, wondrous feeling. A magnificent agony. It's being unable to eat or think or even breathe unless the object of your affection is near. It is not feeling whole without her…"

Taken aback by his quiet admission, Aurora stared at him, wondering how he could describe her own feelings so eloquently. "You sound… as if you speak from experience."

He smiled faintly. "I do. I am afraid I haven't been entirely truthful either, my dear. While I was in France, I fell in love."

Aurora's lips parted, but she remained speechless.

"There was a girl – a young lady – on the farm where I was nursed back to health. Her family was in hiding – aristos who survived the Terror. The eldest daughter… she was so kind, Aurora. I couldn't help loving her."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"For the same reason you didn't tell me about your change of heart. I didn't wish to hurt you. Moreover, as a gentleman, I could not be the one to end our betrothal. It would not have been at all honorable."

Slowly her mouth curved with a misty smile as she felt dawning joy well inside her. "So we were both trying to be noble."

"Evidently. I confess relief to learn that you have given your heart to someone else. It means I can ask Simone to be my wife. Here, dry your eyes so I won't feel quite so much guilt."

Her quiet laughter was muffled by the lawn handkerchief he handed her. Geoffrey's expression, however, remained solemn as she wiped away the dampness on her cheeks.

"If this past year has taught me anything at all, Aurora, it is that no one's future is certain. If you are ever fortunate enough to find true love, you shouldn't risk letting it slip away."

She nodded in fervent agreement, even while chastising herself for coming to that realization so belatedly. If Nicholas died tomorrow, she would be devastated, yet she would rather have even a moment's blazing happiness with him than a lifetime of the dull, gray existence she'd known before coming to love him.

She had never told him of her love. Like Desiree with her prince, she had never disclosed her true feelings until – Sweet heaven, she hoped she was not too late. Aurora drew a sharp breath as her heart experienced a jolt.

"What is it?" Geoffrey asked.

For a moment she hesitated, wondering if she could risk telling Geoffrey what she meant to do. But he had been willing to sacrifice his love for her, possibly mire his family name in scandal just to stand by her, because he wanted her happiness. She could trust him. He wouldn't harm the man she loved. "Nicholas is leaving tonight for America."

"And you want to go with him?"

She searched his face. "I have to, Geoffrey. Can you understand?"

"Yes, my dear." The answer was soft as his lips touched her brow. "I do understand. And if it means anything, you have my full blessing."

"It means a great deal to me." Softly she smiled her thanks, but then her smile faded as a fresh urgency gripped her. "I only hope I am not too late. Nicholas meant to sail for the Caribbean at high tide."

"Then you have another hour or more. High tide will not come until close to ten o'clock. But you haven't much time to pack. You should go."

"Yes." She rose abruptly, her thoughts spinning feverishly as she tried to plan. She would return home long enough to gather some clothing and a few necessities for the weeks she would be at sea – Aurora stopped suddenly, remembering another obligation. "I should say farewell to Harry first and explain why I am leaving… although perhaps he won't mind excessively. He idolizes Nicholas."

"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.