by Andrea Kane
"We could easily discern if he traveled to London last week."
"We could and we will. But that alone isn't enough. We must determine where he was when Armon—" Slayde broke off, realization darting across his face. "Armon was murdered either early yesterday morning or late the night before—in Dartmouth, which is a two- to three-hour carriage ride from Morland. I arrived at Morland Manor late yesterday morning. The duke returned to his estate immediately thereafter. When I asked where he'd been, he refused to answer. I know he wasn't in the village; I'd have seen him there when I was questioning the merchants. So where was he?" A fierce glint lit his eyes. "And doing what—killing his accomplice?"
"Slayde." Courtney struggled to remain calm. "Your theory is plausible. But we haven't a shred of evidence."
"Then we'll have to find some." Slayde averted his head, staring icily across the room. "If Morland is the man Armon worked for, then he's indirectly responsible for your father's death and the fate of your ship."
"I know." Courtney swallowed, hard. "Slayde, what about the Fortune, Armon's ship? Did Mr. Rainer mention if Bow Street
was pursuing it?"
Slayde's laugh was harsh. "He didn't need to mention it. They're not. Bow Street
is terrified of the Huntleys. You saw how fast Rainer bolted—he's afraid to so much as cross my threshold. No, Courtney. Any further investigating, we'll have to do on our own."
"Then we shall." Courtney sat bolt upright, battling the surge of dizziness that immediately claimed her.
"We'll begin by riding to Dartmouth. From there, we'll sail out in search of Armon's ship. Doubtless, it's heading as far and fast from English waters as possible. I suspect the crew fled long before Armon's body was discovered. They must have waited in a nearby cove for his return, and when hours passed without a sign of their captain, they probably panicked and set sail. They couldn't have traveled more than fifty or sixty miles. We'll find them." She bolted to her feet. "We must find them. Some of Papa's crewmen might still be—" Abruptly, she swayed, clutching the table for support.
"Courtney." Slayde leapt up and caught her elbows, easing her back to the sofa. "As we've discussed, you're in no condition to traverse the seas. Further, we haven't a clue in what direction the Fortune is traveling. To go after it would be to waste precious time, time that could be spent gathering evidence and proving Morland's guilt—or unearthing whoever really is guilty. Think about it. I agree with you that the Fortune must be found. But 'twould be far easier for the investigative firm I've hired to send an experienced navigator after it, while you and I delve into the crucial matter of unmasking Armon's accomplice."
Fists knotting in the folds of her gown, Courtney willed away the damnable weakness that thwarted her every move. "I hate this," she bit out.
"I know. Take deep breaths and sit quietly. The lightheadedness will subside."
A minute later, she nodded. "I'm better now." Soberly, her gaze met Slayde's. "I'll agree to your suggestion, but only if this delving includes my efforts as well as yours."
He scowled. "You've been out of bed for an hour and you're barely able to stand. Resting on a carriage ride to London was one thing. Dashing about Devonshire doing what I intend—hunting down unsavory jewel contacts and interrogating any other lowlifes who might have known Armon and who might lead us to his accomplice—is quite another."
"I see your point." Courtney chewed her lip. "Very well," she conceded. "I'll remain at Pembourne, spend the day with Aurora—perhaps even find out who knew of her plans to go to London." A pause, as Courtney fought to still the pounding in her head. "You do what you just described: probe the wharf near Dartmouth to learn who Armon's associates were, hire an investigator to go after the Fortune." Her chin set stubbornly. "But before that investigator begins his search, bring him to Pembourne. I want to talk with him. He'll need the facts I can supply: descriptions of the Fortune's crewmen who accompanied Armon onto the Isobel, snatches of conversation I overheard, and most importantly, names and descriptions of Papa's crew, in case any of them were taken prisoner and are still alive. None of this should delay your investigator's search by any considerable amount of time. I'd be willing to wager a thousand pounds—if I had it—that as a result of their successful retreat, Armon's crew has been lulled into a false sense of security and has, by now, slowed their ship's frantic pace, reasonably convinced no one is pursuing them. Which no one was. Until now. So—" Courtney concluded, hearing her own voice waver, a clear warning that her energy was rapidly diminishing—"is my plan acceptable?"
Slayde studied her, brow furrowed. "The idea seems sound enough. As you pointed out, the Fortune can't have ventured far. One extra day won't give them much more of an advantage, especially if we counter that advantage by spending the time gathering information to hasten our search. Moreover, your idea appeals to me for another reason. The knowledge that my investigator will accompany me home tonight should serve to keep you at Pembourne—you and Aurora."
"Aurora? How does she factor into this?"
"Aurora factors into anything that involves trouble," Slayde retorted dryly. "She thrives on adventure, or hadn't you noticed the way she glows when she's relaying one of Mr. Scollard's tales? She accepts every word as absolute truth—and not only those in his stories. She believes in every farfetched legend she gets wind of, including the one surrounding that wretched black diamond. Although, in that case, I must admit I was relieved as hell to discover she feared the jewel and its curse, else she probably would have escaped from Pembourne and combed all of England to find the bloody stone."
"Probably," Courtney concurred, recalling the sparkle in Aurora's eyes when she'd recounted one of Mr. Scollard's yarns.
"And now?" Slayde continued. "With a mystery such as the one you and I are embarking upon? Right here in her own home? 'Twould awaken every reckless impulse she possesses." He cast a knowing look out the window. "By now, she's undoubtedly on her way home from the lighthouse—where she's been since dawn—eager and ready, having noted Bow Street
's carriage round our drive. Unfortunately, Rainer's visit cannot be kept secret from her; the lighthouse provides a superb view of Pembourne. You can see the entire estate from its tower."
Courtney frowned, an unwelcome possibility inserting itself in her mind. "If you're asking me to lie to Aurora about the reason for Mr. Rainer's visit, I won't. 'Tis my intention to earn your sister's friendship. In order for that to happen, there must be honesty between us. I know no other way. Deceit has no place in a caring relationship."
An odd expression crossed Slayde's face. "No, it doesn't. Not unless there's just cause to employ it. Which in this case, there is not." Roughly, he cleared his throat. "I wasn't suggesting you lie to Aurora. I only meant to point out that once she learns why Bow Street
was here, she'll be ready to plunge right into what she'll view as a grand adventure. You'll need to pin her down to keep her from following my carriage to Dartmouth. And trust me, pinning Aurora down is like trying to catch a firefly. Even I know that."
Even you? Courtney wanted to blurt out. As her brother, it should be especially you. Wisely, she refrained from speaking her opinion aloud. It was too premature, too intrusive. But someday—soon, if she had her way—Slayde would allow Aurora into his heart.
Storing away that inspiring possibility, Courtney replied, "Fear not, my lord. I'll pique Aurora's interest by telling her about the investigator's imminent visit. In the interim, I promise to keep her occupied."
Occupied. Now that spawned another interesting notion, one that sent Courtney's thoughts spinning in an entirely different direction. Hadn't she, mere minutes ago, determined that she must put her past to rest? Well, why not start today? With a bit of help, she could seek some answers and keep Aurora amused at the same time.
If only she could combat this intolerable weakness long enough to do so.
"Courtney? Are you in pain?"
"No." In truth, she was fading fast, but she wasn't about to r
eveal that to Slayde—not in view of the plan she'd just formed. "I'm a bit tired, but I'm fine." She drew a shaky breath, trying to regain a semblance of strength. "Are we in agreement, then? I'll stay behind; you bring the investigator to Pembourne tonight."
"Agreed."
"Good." Courtney rose—slowly, this time—accepting Slayde's proffered hand in order to sustain her balance. "Then I shall return to my chambers at once, to rest up for Aurora's arrival. You leave for Dartmouth now."
Slayde wrapped his arm around her waist. "I will. After I've escorted you to your room and made certain you don't swoon." His meaningful look told Courtney her false bravado hadn't been the slightest bit convincing. "I'm glad you prefer honesty. You're a deplorable liar. Now lean against me or you'll never manage the stairs."
With a wave of gratitude—and something more, Courtney complied. "A deplorable liar? Admittedly so, my lord." She paused, tilting her face up to his. "You, on the other hand, are a far too accomplished one. You've not only fooled the world, you've even fooled yourself Thank goodness, you've just met someone you can't fool—me."
Stunned disbelief flashed across Slayde's features. Courtney gestured toward the doorway. "Shall we attempt the stairs?"
For a long moment, Slayde remained silent, and Courtney could actually feel the tension rippling through him.
Abruptly, he nodded. "Yes. You're exhausted."
Without another word, he guided her from the salon, up the stairs to her room. There, he turned her over to Matilda's able care. "Rest" was all he said before turning on his heel and leaving the bedchamber.
Perhaps she'd overstepped her bounds after all, Courtney mused a half-hour later, sinking gratefully into the bed's softness. But instinct told her she'd done the right thing. Slayde needed awakening … and awakened he would be.
Yawning, she snuggled under the covers, fatigue descending upon her like a heavy blanket. Her limbs felt weak as water, her eyelids drooping, half closed. In the distance, she heard Slayde's phaeton round the drive, then head away from the manor—toward the answers they sought, she hoped.
She wouldn't fight sleep. She'd give in to it, restore her strength.
Then later, she'd relay her intentions to Aurora, who would be unquestionably diverted and eager to assist in a venture she herself had proposed: getting Courtney to the lighthouse.
And to Mr. Scollard.
* * *
Chapter 7
« ^ »
"Courtney? Are you awake yet?"
Stirring from a half-sleep, Courtney lifted her head from the pillow and blinked. "I think so, yes." She brushed tendrils of hair from her face and gestured for Aurora to come in. "What time is it?"
"Half after eleven." Aurora entered, shutting the door with a guilty expression. "You've been asleep since I arrived home at nine. And Matilda will never forgive me if she knows I awakened you."
"Half after eleven!" Courtney pushed herself into a sitting position, glancing at the clock for confirmation. "That's impossible. The last time I looked it was twenty past eight."
"Evidently, you were wearier than you realized." Crossing over, Aurora perched in a nearby chair. "From all the activity that took place at Pembourne this morning," she prompted meaningfully.
Courtney began to laugh. "Aurora, you look like a hopeful pup awaiting a treat. Has no one filled you in on anything yet?"
"No. Slayde is nowhere to be found, and not one of the servants can—or will—provide the answers I seek." Another expectant look. "Can you?"
"What would you like to know?"
"To begin, why was Bow Street
here? What did they want? Did it pertain to your father? Your ship? The black diamond? Were they here to meet with you, or Slayde? How did they hear of your whereabouts? Did you learn anything? Will they be back?"
"Only that?" Courtney teased. "Very well, I'll answer your questions." Recalling Mr. Rainer's fleeting but critical visit, she sobered. "Bow Street
was here because they found the pirate who took over my father's ship. And 'twas Slayde they came to see; they didn't even know of my existence."
"But if they found the pirate … didn't he confess?"
"He couldn't. He was dead—shot in the chest."
Aurora sucked in her breath. "Dead … where did this happen?"
"In Dartmouth. Some local urchins discovered his body in a deserted alley."
"Dartmouth is right here in Devonshire, not thirty miles from Pembourne." Aurora frowned. "Even so, I don't understand. If he is dead, what prompted Bow Street's visit to Pembourne? They certainly didn't come to elicit Slayde's help. They'd rather consort with the devil than seek out the Huntleys."
"So I observed. The reason they came to Pembourne, albeit reluctantly, is because they found a note in the scoundrel's pocket. It was addressed to your brother." Slowly, leaving nothing out, Courtney relayed all the details they had thus far.
"My God," Aurora murmured when Courtney was through, "this becomes more complicated by the minute." Compassion softened her features. "No wonder you slept so long. You must be spent. What can I do to help?" Abruptly, she glanced toward the closed bedchamber door. "And where is Slayde?"
"He's gone to Dartmouth to try to unearth this Armon's contact. He's also hiring an investigator to go after Armon's ship."
"To go after Armon's ship—without us?" Aurora's reaction was so much what Slayde had depicted that Courtney nearly grinned. "You're the one who saw this Armon's men firsthand and can identify them. Not to mention—"
"Wait." Courtney held up a restraining palm. "Before you plunge into the same tirade I myself did not four hours past, let me put your mind at ease. Slayde has promised to bring this investigator to Pembourne so that I might speak with him—prior to the onset of his search."
"Here?" Aurora sat straight up. "When?"
"Tonight."
"Excellent. The only thing better would be if you were well enough for us to accompany him on his explorations."
"Us?"
A grin. "Certainly, us. That's what being my companion is all about. We must become inseparable."
"Especially when it means delving into an enticing mystery," Courtney put in dryly.
"Especially then," Aurora agreed without the slightest attempt at pretense. "Nevertheless, since you're not up for traveling, 'tis our responsibility to use today to our full advantage. We must amass all your knowledge and devise all our questions prior to this investigator's arrival, so that we can make full use of his visit and he can swiftly unearth Armon's accomplice."
"I agree," Courtney replied, reminded of the promise she'd made to Slayde: to probe the matter with Aurora and determine what light she could shed on the possible identity of Armon's accomplice. "Aurora, you just asked if you could help. There's one thing you can do, something that might make all the difference in the world. Think—who did you tell of your intentions to travel to London last week? Who might have known you'd be leaving Pembourne?"
Aurora pondered Courtney's question. She propped her chin on her hand, clearly racking her brain for answers. "I see the direction in which you're heading. You're wondering if someone used my departure from Pembourne to feign a kidnapping in order to extort the black diamond from Slayde. The idea is sound. The problem, however, is I told no one of my plans. No one, obviously, other than Elinore, who was my intended chaperon, and Mr. Scollard, who is my sole confidant and would never repeat a word I divulged."
"I assume that trustworthiness applies to the viscountess, as well, that she would have kept your secret."
"Yes and no," Aurora replied frankly. "And the 'no' part is why I didn't tell her it was a secret."
"You've lost me."
"Had Elinore known my trip to London was confidential, she would indeed have kept it from the world. But, had she known it was unsanctioned by Slayde, she would have canceled the entire trip, which is why I didn't dare tell her the truth. She believed I had Slayde's blessing, that he knew everything other than the dates of my journey
—and those I specified in the note I left him. So, in answer to your question, yes, Elinore is entirely trustworthy—when her silence is solicited. In this case, it was not."
"I see." Courtney chewed her lip. "How long had you two been planning this trip?"
"Nearly a fortnight."
"So 'tis possible she mentioned it to others."
"Entirely possible. Slayde was away until just before I left, so I really didn't worry over who knew of my plans. So long as Slayde didn't know…" Aurora shrugged. "In truth, he's my sole obstacle." A thoughtful pause. "What I can do is summon Elinore to Pembourne. She'll gladly recount who she might have spoken with about my impending arrival in London."
"That's a good idea." Courtney nodded. "Perhaps she can come by tomorrow, if she's not otherwise engaged."
"I'll send her a missive at once." Aurora shifted restlessly. "I wish we could sail with that investigator. Unfortunately, you're not yet well enough."