Nicholas simply watched her. After a moment, his gaze dropped to linger on her breasts. Heat rose in Aurora, and she felt a tingling and a swelling of her nipples that she was helpless to control.
"Do I make you nervous, Aurora?" he asked knowingly.
"Yes," she retorted. "The way you look at me is disgraceful."
"What way is that?"
"As if you're undressing me. It makes me highly uncomfortable."
His mouth lifted in a smile of tempting allure. "Good. I never want you to be too comfortable around me."
Aurora shook her head, torn between fury and despair. "You really deserve to be arrested, you know – before you cause a scandal or drive me to distraction."
"Would you really be glad for my arrest? Clune says you were bereft at my presumed death."
Her alarm returned full measure as she remembered Clune. "Surely you weren't mad enough to actually speak to him?"
"I'm afraid so. I decided a truthful approach would be most advantageous, so I revealed myself and told him the entire story about my imprisonment and near hanging."
"And how did he respond?" Aurora asked worriedly.
"Once I swore that I wasn't committing treason against your country, he was perfectly willing to assist my deception. I told him I was only here to see my wife, which is the truth."
Aurora eyed him with dismay. "How could you take such a dangerous risk?"
"Actually it was a calculated risk. Clune is always ‘ripe for a lark,' as he puts it. He also believes in loyalty toward his friends – and he claims me as a friend. He is fond of you, as well. Too fond, in my opinion. He as much as admitted that he'd been bent on your seduction."
Aurora felt Nicholas studying her intently. "I have done nothing to encourage Lord Clune to believe he could succeed."
"So he says. When I warned him to keep away from you, he claimed he had made little progress because you were madly in love with your late husband."
She felt herself blushing. "I had to have some story to explain my abrupt marriage. I thought it best to let people believe I fell in love at first sight."
His flashing smile held a relentless charm. "I rather like that version of the story."
"Yet you and I know the truth. Our union was never a love match – nor was it supposed to last longer than one night."
Nicholas let her comment pass. "You might not have encouraged Clune wittingly, but as a beautiful widow, you are a prime target for men like him. And your resistance only adds to your allure. For a rake like Clune, it's the challenge of the chase that is stimulating."
Her eyebrows lifted curiously. She suspected that while Nicholas might not be as great a libertine as his friend, he knew what drove a rake. "You sound as if you speak from experience. Is that why you still seem t
o be pursuing me? Because my reluctance to be your wife presents a challenge to you?"
He cocked his head, scrutinizing her with a half-lidded gaze. "Partly, I expect. But it goes deeper than that. As implausible as it may seem, I'm motivated by concern for you."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. It disturbs me to see you so limited by the strict observations of widowhood. That you're forced to lock yourself away from the world. This is not India, where widows are burned alive with their husbands' remains."
The tea tray arrived just then, brought by Aurora's very proper butler. She gave a guilty start, realizing their conversation could have been overheard. Vowing to be more discreet, she fell silent until Danby bowed and withdrew.
After offering Nicholas scones and jam and small finger sandwiches, she hesitated, eyeing him uncertainly. This man was her husband; they had been together in the most intimate way possible. And yet she had no idea how he even liked his tea. "Do you care for milk or sugar?"
"Sugar, no milk. I know," Nicholas said wryly, reading her thoughts. "For a husband and wife we are still practically strangers. Perhaps we should remedy that."
"I see no reason for us to become more closely acquainted."
He studied Aurora as she poured tea from the silver pot into china cups. She performed the task as she did everything else, with a graceful elegance that was the product of a lifetime of training. The perfect lady. And like most gently bred ladies, she had been raised to honor the stifling codes of society.