by Andrea Kane
Her brother shook his head. "He's a bloody mercenary, Aurora, driven solely by a thirst for wealth. He means to use you to find that stone so he can sell it to the highest bidder…"
"Slayde … wait." It was Courtney who spoke, laying a gentle restraining hand on her husband's shoulder. "I have the distinct feeling there's more to this than we've heard." Her discerning gaze shifted to Aurora. "All the facts Julian is now revealing to us, you were privy to them already, weren't you?" she asked quietly. "And I don't mean since your wedding day; I mean from a fortnight ago."
"Yes," Aurora acknowledged, grateful as always for Courtney's innate understanding of her. "Julian filled me in on everything the day he came to Pembourne to offer for me."
Slayde sucked in his breath. "Then why didn't you tell us immediately?"
Aurora shot him a pointed look. "Julian was concerned that you'd misunderstand his intentions and forbid us to marry—a circumstance neither of us was willing to tolerate. Thus, he gave me my choice: ride to Gretna Green and wed posthaste, after which I was welcome to tell you the truth, or enjoy the wedding day I so badly wanted—with both you and Courtney present—but keep my silence until after the vows were exchanged. Either way was fine with him, so long as the end result was achieved. The choice was mine. And I made it."
Courtney's lips curved. "In other words, Julian, you wanted to prevent Slayde from drawing precisely the conclusion he just drew."
"Yes," Julian replied. "A conclusion that in all fairness to Slayde, I, too, would have drawn were Aurora my sister." He leaned forward, all power and presence. "However, now that I've disclosed the truth, let there be no misunderstandings between us. I intend to find that stone. I'd like your help, but it's not essential that I receive it. Any more, incidentally, than it was essential that Aurora become my wife in order to accomplish my goal. Helpful, yes, but not essential. As I explained to you a fortnight ago, I sought Aurora's hand for a multitude of reasons. Most of which I shared with you. All of which I shared with Aurora. And many of which had little or nothing to do with the black diamond." A flicker of a smile. "Although, I must admit to being delighted—if unsurprised—by Aurora's reaction to the truth behind the Fox and the Falcon. I had hoped she'd react in precisely that way, and she didn't disappoint me. She was as intrigued by my great-grandfather's revelations as I—and as eager to complete their mission and put the past to rest. That prospect factored heavily into her decision to accept my proposal. So, while I'm delighted for Aurora's cooperation—after all, I can't deny it will expedite my search—I did not trick your sister into becoming my wife."
"Fine," Slayde stated flatly. "You've convinced me. Now go on."
"Go on?"
"Yes. I've heard that you intend to find the black diamond. I've heard that you had numerous and honorable reasons for marrying Aurora. What I have yet to hear is what you intend to do with the stone once you find it."
"Ah. You want to know whether your skepticism is warranted, whether my greed will eclipse all else from view."
"Exactly. I'm not going to help you make your fortune at my family's expense."
"Our families' expense," Julian corrected stiffly. "Remember, the Bencrofts have suffered the same injustices, if not the same number of tragedies, as the Huntleys."
"And you intend to right those injustices? Your sense of honor will compel you to relinquish the hundreds of thousands of pounds you'd reap by selling the diamond—and all to restore the reputation of a family you claim to despise?"
Tiny flames ignited Julian's eyes. "I'll repeat what I said to you the day I sought Aurora's hand. You know very little about me, and even less about my values, priorities, and motivations. 'Tis time to shatter your misconceptions. Mercenary or not, I'm not driven by wealth. Oh, I enjoy the handsome compensations I earn, but my way of life offers me so much more than just money; namely, excitement, challenge, a sense of adventure—and, yes, sometimes the opportunity to see justice served. Especially this time, when that justice is of so personal a nature—personal and meaningful, despite the animosity I felt for my father and grandfather. By finding the jewel, I can pay tribute to two very deserving men, one of whom happens to be my great-grandfather, end an animosity that should never have begun, and silence a curse that—whether I deem it ludicrous or not—has labeled us pariahs of society."
"You don't believe in the curse?"
"No more than you do," Julian shot back. "But what you and I do or do not believe has little bearing on the way the world views us. Not that I give a damn about being ostracized. Nor, I suspect, do you."
"I didn't…" Slayde refuted quietly. "…until now." His gaze flickered to Courtney, shifted lower to settle on her very swollen abdomen. "'Tis no longer only my life that's at stake. If I can protect my family, my child, from enduring the scars of the past, the fear and the isolation, I will." A hard swallow. "I must."
"Then trust me," Julian urged, his expression intense. "Accept that I don't plan to keep or sell the stone. I plan to turn it over to the Crown as our great-grandfathers intended, and to see it restored to the temple from which it was seized."
With one final glance at the journal, Slayde gave a terse nod. "Very well. Although I'm still reeling from all I've just learned … the ramifications."
"We all are, Slayde," Aurora put in. "I only just read the journal last night, then again on the carriage ride this morning. What James and Geoffrey did, the men they truly were—it's inspiring. I feel so proud and so determined to untarnish their names."
"How can Slayde and I help you?" Courtney interrupted. "Do you suspect the diamond truly is hidden at Pembourne after all?"
"No." Julian shook his head. "The Fox and the Falcon were far too clever to store their recovered treasures in one of their homes. I'm convinced they had a secret hiding place, one that has yet to be unearthed."
"Hundreds of privateers have hunted for the black diamond," Slayde reminded him. "Why hasn't one of them come upon this hiding place?"
"Because they hadn't the necessary clues to do so."
"And we have?"
"Yes. We need only uncover them."
Slayde frowned. "You've lost me, Julian."
"I said I didn't think the diamond was hidden at Pembourne or Morland. That doesn't mean the clues leading to it aren't."
"Of course." Slayde's palm struck the table with a bang. "What better way to ensure that only the Huntleys and the Bencrofts—together—find the gems recovered by the Fox and the Falcon than to bury clues in both our homes."
"Exactly," Julian confirmed. "I've dealt with enough stolen treasures myself to know that there are an infinite number of sites where one can conceal them—inside caves, behind stone boulders, beneath grassy tracts—the possibilities are limitless. Any of those sites would take either detailed instructions or a map to find. My great-grandfather obviously believed that the same heir who would be worthy of his legacy would also be shrewd enough to amass the clues he and James left, then use the combined information as a guide to their specific hiding place."
"So where do we begin searching for these clues?" Courtney demanded, a spark of excitement in her eyes. "At least those concealed here at Pembourne?"
"We begin by reviewing whatever knowledge Slayde has of James Huntley: his habits, interests, which rooms at Pembourne he customarily occupied. We also pore over any documents or personal effects of James's that might still exist, any of which might help determine our path."
"Personal effects?" Frowning, Slayde rose. "I don't recall James leaving anything of consequence—certainly nothing as dramatic as a dagger or a journal. As for documents, I'll go through every shred of paper at Pembourne looking for a clue of some kind. Personal habits are another issue entirely. According to my father, James had few ties to the estate … or to anything else in England, for that matter. As you well know, he spent most of his time abroad. He seldom returned to Pembourne for more than a few weeks at a time."
"But when he did, he could usually be found on the fa
r grounds with his falcons," Aurora inserted. "They were his greatest fascination—significant enough, obviously, to spawn his alias."
"That's true." Even as he spoke, Slayde arched a surprised brow at his sister. "I didn't realize you knew so much about our great-grandfather. I was aware of James's affinity for falcons because Father referred to it several times during our discussions on the Huntley family history—discussions meant to prepare me for the title I would someday inherit. But you were no more than a babe then. How is it you recall those conversations?"
"I don't. Nor do I need to. Mr. Scollard told me all about Great-grandfather's preoccupation with his falcons." Aurora pursed her lips. "Now that I think of it, perhaps I should have paid more attention to Mr. Scollard's stories. I always assumed he was just imparting interesting tidbits of my past. Knowing him as I do, I should have guessed he was revealing something of great value. In any case, that's how I learned of James and his falcons. Moreover, I picked up scraps of information from Siebert on the day I first discovered the empty falcon cages. I was fifteen at the time, and insane with boredom. I accosted Siebert the moment I returned to the manor; after all, he'd been at Pembourne forever, so it stood to reason he'd heard tell of James's pastime. And of course he had, however minimally. After grappling with the countless questions I fired at him, our poor butler suggested I peruse the library where James kept dozens of volumes on the subject of falcons."
"And did you?"
"With pleasure. It provided me with a much-needed diversion." Aurora shot Slayde a pointed look. "Need I remind you that I was confined to this estate for over a decade?"
"Need I remind you that you spent most of that decade trying to escape, giving my guards a merry chase?"
Aurora grinned, feeling not a shred of remorse. "Very well, then. During those few occasions when I wasn't eluding your guards or visiting Mr. Scollard, I was reading. I'm familiar with every book in our library. A good portion of them are about the art of falconing, with James's notes and dates jotted in the margins. You'd be surprised at how much I gleaned about the different types of falcons and their characteristics. Which brings me to my first suggestion: I think we should pore over every one of James's books and search the falcon cages—which I've been dying to do since Julian's first visit—to see if there might be some clue concealed within them."
"They've been untouched for years," Slayde reminded her. "I doubt there's anything in them but cobwebs and dust."
"Still, it's worth a try."
"I agree," Julian interrupted, coming to his feet. "So let's stop talking and begin searching. James must have left something of himself behind, just as Geoffrey did. In addition, if I'm right, if the clues leading to the black diamond are hidden at Pembourne and Morland, 'tis up to us to find them, combine them, and complete our great-grandfathers' mission."
"I'll begin in the library," Courtney offered. "First I'll collect all James's falcon books. Then I'll scrutinize them one by one." Seeing Aurora's stunned expression, she grinned, patting her abdomen. "No, Aurora, I haven't lost my adventurous spirit, only my agility. My attempts to cross the grounds would only slow you down and worry Slayde silly. 'Tis best that I remain here and take on a more sedentary job."
"Without question," Slayde concurred instantly. "Aurora, you accompany Courtney to the library. And don't let her do anything foolish. You climb the ladder and hand down the books. The two of you can read through them together. I, in the meantime, will go through and inspect every personal article Father bequeathed me when he died—just in the event James passed something down, something we inadvertently overlooked, given that we hadn't a notion of his true identity. Julian, before I get started I'll instruct Siebert to show you to the falcon cages. You're welcome to scour every inch of them for clues. Agreed?"
"Agreed." Julian nodded his assent.
Aurora bit her lip, torn between flagrant refusal and allegiance to Courtney. Hell and damnation, she didn't answer to Slayde anymore. Further, he knew bloody well she was itching to inspect those falcon cages—and equally averse to being cooped up in this blasted manor again. On the other hand, she understood the basis for her brother's command. Courtney would never be content being idle. Left alone she would scramble up the ladder to reach every one of those texts, jeopardizing her well-being even as she convinced herself that she and the babe would remain unharmed.
In the end there was no choice to make.
"Come, Courtney." Aurora gestured to her friend. "Let's get started."
Julian caught Aurora's arm as she passed. "I'll personally rush straight to the library and deliver any clues I might find," he vowed quietly.
Aurora's head came up. He understands, she realized in astonishment, seeing the approval—together with some profound, unnamed memory—flicker in his eyes. He admires my decision.
It was that unnamed memory that captured her interest.
Studying Julian's enigmatic expression, Aurora had the oddest feeling that her husband's admiration stemmed from something personal, some firsthand experience … or relationship … that elicited the kind of loyalty he evidently respected. Could it also be responsible for the honor he so fervently pursued? And if so, who or what had inspired it?
Lord, she had so much to learn about this man, so much she intended to learn if they were going to have a real marriage. That notion almost made her smile, given that—by her own claim—she'd never expected to marry at all.
Mr. Scollard had been right all along—as usual.
"Soleil?" Evidently Julian thought her silence implied skepticism. "I will let you know if I discover anything in the cages."
"Thank you," she said aloud. "I'll try to be patient. But waiting is something I'm not very good at."
"Ah, now that I know from firsthand experience," he stunned Aurora by muttering, his tone low and wicked, clearly meant for her ears alone. "And I promise, soleil—I'll try never to keep you waiting."
Before Aurora could respond—or even recover, for that matter—the teasing look on Julian's face had vanished and he was heading toward the door. "Let's find Siebert," he instructed Slayde.
Watching her husband's departure, Aurora pondered the astonishing transformation he seemed able to make so effortlessly. It was as if a flash of Julian emerged from the confines of Merlin's formidable presence, only to disappear as quickly as it had come.
Well, she relished a challenge as much as he did. And she'd just encountered the greatest challenge of all: Julian himself.
"You're disappointed," Courtney pronounced as Slayde followed Julian out the sitting-room door. "You were obviously yearning to explore those falcon cages. Aurora, I'm not a child. Go with Julian. I can collect books on my own."
"Absolutely not." Aurora gave an adamant shake of her head. "I have no intentions of letting you climb ladders or overtax your strength. Besides, that's not disappointment you're seeing; it's contemplation."
"Contemplation," Courtney repeated. "Over what—Julian?"
"Yes." A sigh. "My new husband is a very complex man."
"So I noticed." Courtney cleared her throat, her gaze fixed on Aurora. "Despite your craving for adventure, I know how terrified you are of the black diamond, how certain you are of its curse. I also realize Julian won't rest until he finds it, which places you right at the heart of this search—a reality that's doubtless as frightening as it is exhilarating. Yet, despite all this upheaval, you look radiant. May I assume the past few days yielded all I predicted they would?"
Aurora shot her friend a grin. "You may."
"You're happy then?"
"Ecstatic—at least when I'm in Julian's arms. Now, if only I could unlock his thoughts as easily as I unlock his passions…" She frowned. "Somehow I think that's going to be a significantly more difficult task."
"I'm sure it will be." Courtney's lips twitched. "Especially given that unlocking his passions probably required no more than a moment or two alone in his bedchamber."
"Bedchamber? We scarcely lasted beyond Pem
bourne's gates." Aurora flushed as she recalled her first moments of wedded bliss. "We consummated our marriage in Julian's carriage," she confessed in a confidential whisper. "Are you shocked?"
Laughter bubbled up in Courtney's throat. "By the Fox and the Falcon, yes. By you? Never." She squeezed Aurora's hands. "I can hardly wait to hear more. Unfortunately I'll have to exercise some patience. Dozens of books beckon us."
"Yes," Aurora agreed, staring off in the direction of the library. "As does the black diamond."
* * *
A half hour later, a stack of texts were strewn across the library's oriental rug and Aurora was sifting through the top and final shelf of books.
"Nothing," Courtney muttered from the settee. Readjusting the cushion behind her back, she tossed another book to the floor. "Other than some interesting margin notes on the differences between the peregrine and the merlin. I can't find a single item either within the text or penned by James that even remotely resembles a hidden message."
