The Black Diamond

by Andrea Kane

  "Rooms?" Aurora tossed back her hair and laughed. "You scarcely let me peek into my new chambers, much less explore them. I hardly know where they are, or what they look like."

  "They're pale blue and adjoining mine. That's all you need to know. Trust me, your chambers won't be getting much use." With a wicked grin, Julian unbolted the door. "Shall we?"

  "Absolutely." Aurora crossed over, smoothing her palms up her husband's shirtfront. "You look hopelessly disheveled, you know. As if you've been making love all afternoon."

  "Do I?" Julian caught her wrist, brought her palm to his lips. "That's because I have. What's more, if I had my way, the afternoon would be stretching into evening, then into night."

  "I'll remind you of that later."

  "I'm counting on it." His tongue traced a fine line to her thumb.

  "Julian—stop," Aurora commanded, shivering. "Or we'll never leave this room, much less travel to Fowey."

  "You're right." Sighing, he released her. "Are you ready to go upstairs?"

  "Indeed. Maybe if we run fast enough, the servants won't notice our tousled state." Skepticism flashed in her eyes. "Never mind. Knowing your servants, I doubt we'll fool them." Aurora paused, her lips pursed as a sudden thought seemed to intrude. "Julian, that reminds me, I've been doing a bit of thinking of my own. I know this is a most unconventional household. But I am a duchess, and I do require a lady's maid, do I not?"

  Julian arched a brow, wondering where this was leading. "Of course."

  "And it is proper for me to select this person myself, isn't it?"

  "If I remember my protocol correctly, yes, it is."

  "Good." She gave him a dazzling smile. "Then I choose Emma."

  "Emma?" Whatever he'd expected, it hadn't been this. "Sweetheart, she's barely fifteen. Further, she has absolutely no experience at being a lady's maid."

  "True. But youth and inexperience do have their benefits. Emma will be a quick and eager study—not to mention the fact that she'll have no means of comparison and will therefore never know how unorthodox a mistress she truly has."

  Julian chuckled. "I can't disagree with that."

  "Then it's settled?"

  Insight dawned. "How much of your decision is based on the reasons you've just given me and how much is based on the story I told you of how Emma came to be here?"

  Aurora regarded him with her perpetual candor. "Equal amounts of both. Further, I can't stop remembering the way Emma looked at me when we met—as if I held all the wonders of the world in my hands. And not because I'm titled or even because I'm married to you—although she stares at you with utter worship in her eyes—but because I'm settled, happy, with a future that I embrace. I understand her better than she thinks. When I was her age my parents were gone, Slayde was constantly abroad, and I was sequestered at Pembourne like some trapped doe. I felt lonely and out of place, and despite the mass of kindly servants around me, I always felt alone, with a less than promising future. I imagine she must feel the same. I think I could help her, offer her a position she'd enjoy and a woman she can talk to."

  "I agree." Julian caressed his wife's cheek, moved by her generosity of spirit. "Then Emma it is." His hand curved about her nape and he drew her toward him, lowering his mouth to hers. "Your parents' choice of names for you was most fitting," he murmured into her lips. "As was their reasoning for choosing it. You do fill the world with sunlight. Thank you, soleil." He enfolded her against him, kissing her more deeply.

  "You think Emma will be pleased?" Aurora whispered breathlessly.

  "I think she'll be thrilled." With the greatest of efforts, Julian raised his head, enjoying the dazed look in his wife's eyes—and the disappointment on her face. "I also think we'd best leave this room right now, before my resolve completely shatters and I take you right here, right now, and Barnes be damned."

  With that, he inhaled sharply, and having regained a modicum of composure, he opened the door. "No one's about," he muttered, peeking into the hallway. He glanced back at Aurora. "Are you ready?"

  "My knees are still shaking. Other than that, I'm ready."

  Julian grinned. "Then I see but one solution." He swept Aurora into his arms, then strode out of the sitting room and toward the stairway. "So far, so good," he announced cheerfully, assessing the deserted hallway before taking the steps two at a time. "Perhaps we'll make it undetected, after all."

  "Perhaps." Aurora was laughing so hard she could barely speak. "On the other hand, perhaps the servants are purposely avoiding us."

  "Don't bet on it. My staff is anything but shy." Julian rounded the second floor landing, headed purposefully for his chambers.

  "Safe," Aurora proclaimed as they crossed the threshold. "I never thought we'd actually succeed in getting past…" She broke off, her jaw dropping.

  "As you can see, we didn't." Julian deposited her on the bed, then began unbuttoning his shirt, nodding at Gin, who squatted in the center of the room pouring pots of steaming water into a large copper tub. "Is that bath for me or the duchess?" Julian inquired nonchalantly.

  "This one's yers." Gin rose, dragging his forearm across his forehead. "I prepared Mrs. Merlin's first. It's waitin' in 'er chambers. By the way—" He gave Aurora a questioning look. "It's all right if I call ye Mrs. Merlin, ain't it? I 'eard ye give it to Stone as one of 'is choices, and I like the sound of it a lot better than I do Lady Aurora. I also 'eard Merlin mention somethin' about goin' to Fowey. I figured he meant tonight—Merlin ain't much on waitin'. Then I guess ye already found that out. Anyway, yer clothes were in no condition to go visitin', so I assumed ye'd be wantin' a bath. Course, I did mean to ask, but the sittin' room door was locked when I tried it, alertin' me to the fact that the two of ye wouldn't be wantin' company. So, I just went ahead and prepared the baths. All I need to know is, who ye'd like to assist ye?"

  Sprawled in the center of the bed, Aurora gaped, utterly speechless.

  "Now we're even, ain't we Mrs. Merlin?" A broad grin split Gin's bearded face. "Looks like we're both real good at surprises."

  "Yes," she conceded, her eyes beginning to twinkle. "It appears we are."

  "You're a bit much, even for my wife," Julian advised his valet. "Therefore, until she recovers from the shock of your actions—not to mention your eavesdropping, I'll answer for her." He tossed aside his shirt, sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his boots. "Aurora's decided she'd like Emma as her maid. Isn't that right, soleil?"

  Aurora nodded, her shoulders beginning to shake with laughter. "Yes. Although I'm sure that comes as no surprise to your valet. Doubtless he's already heard that bit of news."

  Gin emitted a whoop of pleasure. "No. That one I missed. I'll be a son of a…"

  "Gin." Julian's reprimand sliced the air.

  "'Cuse me, ma'am." The valet cleared his throat. "Emma's gonna be thrilled. I'll get 'er."

  "By all means. And Gin—" Aurora held up her hand to delay his exit. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness and your attention to detail. To answer your questions, Mrs. Merlin is a perfect form of address and Emma, as you just heard, is indeed my choice for lady's maid. I have but one request: now that we're even, would it be possible for you to refrain from making any surprise appearances in my bedchamber—or Julian's for that matter—just in case I happen to be in a state of undress?"

  Gin's dark eyes sparkled with humor. "It'd be more than possible. And I'd better stop those surprise appearances in more than just yer bedchambers, if my visit to the sittin' room this afternoon is any indication. Yup, I think I'll start knockin' on all the doors from now on, just to be safe. Ye see? Ye got nothin' to worry about. I might be rough around the edges, but I'm a gentleman through and through—and that alone will keep me honest." He cast a sidelong look at Julian, chuckling at the warning look in his employer's eyes. "That, plus the fact that if I walked in on ye Merlin would kill me."

  * * *

  "You look lovely, ma'am." For the fifth time Emma curtsied, this time as she slipped the final pin i
n Aurora's hair. "Can I do anything else? Get you gloves? A fan?"

  Aurora rose from her dressing table and smiled. "No, thank you, Emma. You've done a wonderful job of arranging my hair and helping me dress—no one would ever know this was your first day as a lady's maid. As for gloves and a fan, they're too formal for where I'm going this evening."

  "Very good, m'lady. Thank you." Another curtsy.

  "Emma." Aurora lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. "'Tis I who should be thanking you. I'm as new at—" A twinkle. "—Merlin Manor as you are to the duties you just performed. I'm delighted to have a young woman to talk to, and one who can arrange hair so beautifully. I'm grateful you accepted the position as my lady's maid. But, given what I've told you about my propensity for getting into trouble, please—save your energy for extricating me, not for curtsying."

  The young girl nodded vigorously. "Thank you, ma'am. I will." She smoothed the skirts of Aurora's beige muslin gown. "Would you like to wear a necklace? Some jewels would brighten up this dress."

  "No, I think not." Aurora glanced down at herself and shook her head. "Given my destination, looking drab is appropriate—and inconspicuous. Jewels would only hinder things. But I do need my reticule." She walked over and scooped up the small satin bag. "This is a necessary adornment."

  "Of course. You never know when you'll need a handkerchief or some hair pins."

  "True." Aurora ran her fingers over the reticule's smooth, cool surface, then pulled the cords tightly closed, tucking the bag securely against her side. "A handkerchief, hairpins … or some other crucial item." Raising her chin, she assessed herself in the looking glass. "You just never know what you might need."

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  « ^ »

  It was just shy of eight o'clock when Julian steered the skiff into Fowey's harbor. Tying the craft securely to the dock, he leapt out, frowning as he assessed the unsavory types milling about the wharf in search of potential prey.

  "Traveling by boat was much faster than by carriage, but it still took us too long to get here," he muttered, helping Aurora climb out beside him. "Dammit. If we'd only left Polperro with the last rays of daylight, we could have sailed more quickly, arrived before these lowlifes emerged from the bowels of hell."

  "What good would coming earlier have done us?" Aurora reasoned, looking about with more curiosity than fear. "Barnes visits these taverns only at night. We had no choice about our timing. Besides, you're a superb navigator, day or night."

  Julian was glaring at a slimy-looking wharf rat, staring him down until the menacing fellow slunk away. "Rory—remember what I said," he murmured to his wife. "Keep your head down and your eyes on the path. Stay close to me and walk." He turned his attention to her, drawing her mantle more closely about her shoulders, tucking a few loose strands of hair beneath her bonnet. "You can't help being beautiful," he grumbled. "Let's hope I don't have to kill anyone before we cross over and make our way to the Brine. Come."

  He seized her arm, leading her away from the wharf and toward the small row of buildings across the road.

  The path was rotted, the stench of ale more potent than that of fish and salt air combined. All around them, pairs of eyes watched their progress. Behind them, waves lapped lightly at the shoreline, rocking the few fishing boats that were anchored there, then receding into the chilly night sky.

  A chipped sign reading The Brine told them they'd reached their destination.

  "This makes Dawlish's look elegant," Aurora muttered, clasping her mantle higher about her as she and Julian took the remaining steps to a shoddy building that more closely resembled an abandoned shack than it did a tavern.

  "Not exactly Carlton House, is it?" Julian returned dryly. He tensed, glancing back for the umpteenth time as if to verify that the rushing sound he heard was indeed the sound of the waves and not that of an approaching enemy or an audacious thief. His grip about Aurora's waist tightened as they reached the pub door. "Remember the rules, soleil. At no time are you to budge from my side or take matters into your own hands." His lips twitched. "And for heaven's sake, don't offer to join the sailors in a game of whist."

  "Very funny." Aurora's fingers clutched her reticule, pressing it close to her side.

  "You aren't carrying anything of value in there, are you?" Julian inquired, the sound of raucous laughter greeting their ears.

  "Only the necessities," she assured him.

  "Good. Then, let's see what we can learn." With that, Julian shoved open the door and guided Aurora in.

  The pub was dark, reeking of spirits, filled with the most unkempt men Aurora had ever seen—men whose gazes snapped in their direction and whose conversation quieted, then stopped altogether as she and Julian made their way to the counter.

  "Yeah?" The flabby-cheeked tavern keeper glanced briefly at Julian before openly assessing Aurora, his stare roving restlessly over her concealed figure, flickering from her bonnet to her face—where it lingered.

  Julian's arm clamped about her like a steel manacle. "We're looking for Barnes," he bit out. "Is he here?"

  "Who wants to know?"

  "Merlin."

  The tavern keeper blanched. "Ye're Merlin?"

  "I am."

  "Macall's lookin' for ye."

  "So I've heard." Julian shrugged. "I'll catch up with him sooner or later. In the meantime, I need to see Barnes."

  "Why?" One of the sailors chimed in. "'E sure as 'ell can't see ye—or anythin' else, for that matter." A burst of laughter erupted.

  "'E can't 'ear too well, either," a scrawny fellow added, tossing off a drink, then dragging his sleeve across his mouth. "So ye're wastin' yer time."

  "No, you're wasting it," Julian returned smoothly, He leaned against the counter, casually extracting a wad of pound notes. "Let's see, he can't see or hear. Do you think he can count?"

  The sailor's sleeve halted, his sunken eyes widening with interest. "I don't know about 'im, but I can."

  "Good. Then you can count this—if you tell me where Barnes is. I'd like to test his abilities to hear and see."

  Julian peeled off two ten-pound notes and dangled them in the air.

  It was the tavern keeper who lunged forward, leaning over the counter and trying to grab the bills.

  "Don't even think of it." Julian snatched the money out of reach, his tone menacingly low. "Not unless you have information to give me. I don't like being swindled. It enrages me."

  "Don't mess with him, Briney," another sailor piped up. "I've 'eard of this Merlin. 'E's not one to take on—not unless ye wanna get 'urt bad."

  The tavern keeper took a step backward, holding up conciliatory palms. "Easy, fellow," he cautioned Julian. "I don't run that kinda place. No fights, no stealin', nothin'."

  "I'm glad to hear that." Julian's smile was as pleasant as if he were greeting guests at a ball. "Now, to repeat my original question, does anyone know where I can find Barnes?"

  "'E was 'ere earlier," Briney replied, wiping his hands on his apron. "I expect 'e's at the Cove. 'E usually goes there next, stays till ten. Then 'e goes 'ome to bed."

  "Excellent. Thank you." Julian slapped the bills on the counter.

  Eyeing the money, Briney hesitated, his hungry gaze once again sweeping Aurora. "'Ow about keepin' yer money and sharin' yer woman?"

  Julian went deadly still. "How about taking the money and retracting your offer—or I'll break your jaw?"

  "Okay, okay." Hastily the tavern keeper snatched up the pound notes, retreating farther behind the safety of his counter. "Didn't know she meant that much to ye. No 'arm intended."

  That practiced smile was back in place. "Fine." Julian glanced about. "Enjoy your evening, gentlemen." He peeled off a few more bills, dropping them on the counter. "For your trouble—a few rounds of drinks for everyone, on me." He led Aurora to the door. "Oh, and Briney?" He turned. "Tell Macall I'm ready whenever he is."

  Aurora stepped outside and breathed for the first time in fifteen minutes.
<
br />   "Are you all right?" Julian tipped her chin up, assessing her ashen expression.

  A shaky nod. "Just a bit taken aback. That … place wasn't at all what I expected. 'Twas nothing like Dawlish's."

  "Dawlish's has a cleaner bunch of regular patrons. Half these sailors are smugglers, thieves—or worse. They're an entirely different breed."

  "You were wonderful—Merlin through and through, without so much as a trace of Julian present. You even managed to intimidate me. "

  Julian chuckled. "Now that is indeed an accomplishment."

  Aurora didn't smile. "Daydreams and reality are far removed from each other, aren't they?" she asked in troubled realization.