Aurora felt the color fade from her face. Divorce, even if one could be secured – which would be extremely difficult – would ruin her. "A divorce would be disastrous for me. It would brand me a pariah in society. I could never show my face in polite company again."
"Perhaps," he said musingly, "I could try to have an American court declare the marriage invalid. I might have a case, since I was compelled to wed under duress."
"Couldn't we simply go on as if you had never returned?" she asked earnestly. "What would be the harm in leading separate lives?"
He studied her for a moment. "You realize that as long as we're wed, neither of us can ever marry again?"
"I have no desire ever to marry. Once was enough." She saw his eyebrow lift and bit her lip. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. It's only that I suffered a great despair when I thought you dead, and I don't wish ever to endure that again. I vowed I would forget my loss and make a new life for myself. And I have thus far."
"I have a question," Nicholas said slowly. "Suppose we do remain legally bound. What happens if either of us should fall in love with someone else? You would certainly want to be free of the marriage then."
"There is little chance of my falling in love again. I loved Geoffrey for most of my life, and I don't believe I could ever love any man but him. But even if I could, I am determined I will never give my heart again. It is too painful to lose someone I care for."
Nicholas clenched his jaw for an instant, but then his mouth relaxed in a faint smile. "Have you considered my perspective? What if I come to love someone else?"
That possibility gave her an unaccountable jolt, but sh
e dismissed it with a skeptical look. A rake like Nicholas Sabine was not likely to fall in love. "I doubt that will happen, but I will make you a promise. If you ever do find someone else to love, I will free you from our marriage. I'll agree to an annulment or a divorce – whatever it takes to end our union."
"So for now we do nothing?"
"Yes," she said, relieved that he intended to be reasonable. "In public we can pretend the other doesn't exist – "
"I am supposed to be your cousin by marriage. It would look odd if we failed to at least speak when we meet in public."
"Well, perhaps we could acknowledge the acquaintance in public."
"What about in private?"
"There is no reason for us to have any private contact." She gave him a stern look. "Or any contact at all. Indeed, I don't know why you are even considering remaining in England. You would do better to leave at once. If you remain, you will only get yourself killed. I couldn't bear that, Nicholas."
"Thank you for your concern, sweetheart, but I don't intend to die any time soon."
"You didn't intend to be imprisoned or sentenced to hang four months ago, either."
Nicholas cocked his head as he regarded her. "There is one other aspect we haven't considered. Carnal relations. If you and I are still wed, we cannot take other lovers without committing adultery."
Aurora felt her cheeks color. He wanted other lovers? Why that should bother her, she couldn't fathom. It would be unnatural for a man of Nicholas's lusty nature to give up carnal pleasures. And she would have no right to demand fidelity from him in any case, not if she asked to be free of their vows.
She forced a smile, attempting to sound worldly. "I understand many married men have affairs. I would have no objection to you seeking out other women or keeping a mistress if you wish."
"And what of you?" His intent gaze held hers.
"You needn't concern yourself with me on that score. I don't intend to take any lovers."
"A lifetime is a long time to remain celibate, especially for a woman as passionate as I know you to be."
She stood up abruptly, uncomfortable with the intimate turn of the conversation. "That reminds me. You entrusted me with another mission…"
She went to her dressing table and drew out the jewel-encrusted journal, which was carefully wrapped in oilcloth. "Raven's mother left this for you. It is the book your father gave her."
When she handed the package to Nicholas, he opened it curiously. "An expensive gift, obviously," he murmured.
"So it would seem – and rather old."
"What is it about?"
"It is a journal, written by a Frenchwoman who was enslaved in a Turkish pasha's harem."