by Andrea Kane
"'Tis more than Slayde's emotional independence at stake," Courtney revealed. "It's…" She paused, weighing her words carefully. She'd vowed to Slayde not to divulge the truth about his fraudulent diamond, and she intended to keep that vow. "He fears for my safety. Not only my safety but the safety of anyone he cares for. He's sworn to preclude any potential danger by forsaking any future ties."
Aurora frowned. "The black diamond is gone from our lives, along with its horrifying curse. I gather, therefore, that what you're telling me has something to do with the Bencrofts and Slayde's belief that they're determined to punish us and forever exact their revenge."
"That's exactly what I'm telling you. Slayde doesn't believe the curse lies with the diamond, but with the men who vie for it. Most especially, with the Bencrofts, whose hatred he's convinced will never be extinguished. You of all people know how staunchly he believes that. 'Tis why he's so watchful of you and your whereabouts. Well, his protective convictions go far deeper than that." Courtney met Aurora's questioning gaze. "To put it bluntly, Slayde refuses to carry on the Huntley name, either through marriage or by siring a child. He's determined to let the hatred die with him."
Aurora sat bolt upright. "He told you this? That he intends never to marry or father children?"
"Yes."
To Courtney's amazement, Aurora clapped her hands together in glee. "This is even more wonderful than I thought."
"Aurora, did you hear what I just said?"
"Of course I did. The question is, did you?"
"Did I what?" Courtney was beginning to think she'd lost her mind.
"Did you hear what you just said—or rather, implied?" With an impatient shake of her head, Aurora rushed on. "No, evidently you didn't, or you wouldn't look so morose. Courtney, why would Slayde be telling you something so pointed, so intimate, if he weren't falling in love with you? The answer is, he wouldn't." She jumped to her feet, nearly dancing about in joyful anticipation. "This task is going to be easier than I thought."
"The man intends never to marry or sire children," Courtney repeated—for her own sake as well as Aurora's. "You don't find that a bit daunting?"
A shrug. "Not particularly. It doesn't surprise me; as you yourself just said, I know how certain my brother is that the Bencrofts orchestrated every tragedy the Huntleys have ever endured. Also, given Slayde's propensity for solitude, I suspect he never envisioned needing anyone, much less loving her, enough to alter his decision. But all that's changed now. He's in love. He's vulnerable."
"And he's going to fight it every inch of the way," Courtney reminded her.
"Indeed." Aurora's face lit up. "But then it wouldn't be a challenge if he didn't, now would it?"
Unbidden laughter bubbled up inside Courtney. "You're astonishing."
"Nothing like Slayde, am I?" Aurora quipped back.
Sobering, Courtney refuted her friend's statement. "To the contrary, you're a great deal more alike than I originally surmised. You're both strong-willed, loyal, and stubborn, with enormous hearts and brilliant minds. The difference is in the way you express those traits, not in your intrinsic characters."
"I don't understand my brother," Aurora said frankly. "And he understands me even less."
"I realize that," Courtney murmured. I also intend to change it, she vowed silently. 'Twill be my special gift to you both; perhaps the only one I can offer to sufficiently thank you for what you've given me.
"In any case, each of our tasks is clear," Aurora concluded. "You must seize every opportunity and use it to make Slayde see the truth: that his love for you is far more pivotal than any foolish vow he made to himself before the two of you met. And that together you can overcome anything, even the Bencrofts."
"Only that?" Courtney teased. "Tell me, is your task equally as simple?"
"Not simple, but creative. 'Tis my job to ensure that you have innumerable opportunities to do your job."
"Ah. Need I remind you that Slayde is a skilled and seasoned loner who's adamant about remaining so?"
"No, you needn't." Aurora's grin was impish. "'Twould seem, my friend, that two novices are about to undo one expert."
* * *
"Very well, Miss Johnston." Oridge scribbled down a few additional notes, then raised his head and leveled his keen investigator's gaze on Courtney. "We've gone over all the events you can recall from the time this Armon seized the Isobel to the time Lord Pembourne rescued you from the channel. You've given me detailed descriptions of the pirates who accompanied Armon onto your ship. And you've provided me with a list of names of the entire crew of the Isobel."
"That's correct, sir." Courtney massaged her temples, wishing the throbbing in her head would subside. Then again, how could she expect that it would? After all, she and Mr. Oridge had been ensconced in the library for what seemed like an eternity, hashing and rehashing the events that had brought her to Pembourne.
Inadvertently, her gaze wandered to the library's grandfather clock. Half after three. With the exception of a thirty-minute meal in the adjoining salon and one much-needed hour-long nap in her chambers, she'd been seated on the sofa since nine o'clock this morning, reliving the most harrowing experience of her life. She felt utterly drained and physically spent. And her concussion had little to do with it.
"Are you all right, Miss Johnston?"
Her head jerked around and, seeing the genuine concern on the investigator's face, she felt a stab of guilt. "Forgive me, Mr. Oridge. Yes, I'm fine."
"No apology is necessary." He closed his portfolio. "I realize how difficult this must be for you—in more ways than one." He cleared his throat, speaking in a low, reassuring tone. "Answering countless questions is exhausting. Far more exhausting, in fact, than asking them."
Courtney gave him a weak smile, grateful for his attempt to put her at ease. "I have little patience for these lingering injuries of mine. If only my strength were back, I'd go after the Fortune myself."
"Then how fortunate your strength hasn't cooperated," Oridge returned curtly, all semblance of compassion having vanished. Leaning forward, he gripped his knees, an intense expression on his face. "Miss Johnston, I'm going to be blunt. Traversing the ocean as a sea captain's daughter does not make you a seasoned navigator. You might think you know a great deal about ships. Trust me, you don't. Not when it comes to dangerous matters like pursuing a pirate ship and dealing with the pirates once you've found them. So if you have any heroic notions of striking out on your own, forget them. I'm good at what I do. If Armon's ship can be found, I'll find it. And you'll stay alive in the process. Am I making myself clear?"
"Perfectly clear."
"Good. Then I have only one more question for you. What kind of cargo was the Isobel carrying?"
"If you're asking if our cargo was valuable enough to pilfer, the answer is yes. We transported furniture and other manufactured goods to the Colonies."
"Furniture? Unlikely," Oridge muttered. "Other goods … such as what?"
"Pardon me?"
"Was there anything on board your ship that would bring a nice sum but was less cumbersome to transfer than furniture?"
"Why, yes." Courtney had no idea what avenue Oridge was pursuing, but she followed nonetheless. "I wasn't privy to a full list of our cargo, but I do recall there were silver pieces, vases, and several expensive wooden clocks aboard. Are those the type of things you mean?"
"Those are exactly the things I mean." Oridge came to his feet. "Thank you, Miss Johnston, you've been a great help. I suggest you go to your chambers now and rest."
Courtney rose as swiftly as he. "What is it I helped you with? What prospect are you entertaining?"
"As I said, you're pale and weary." He crossed over, pulled open the library door and gestured for her to pass. "I'm sure the earl will fill you in on whatever you need to know."
Slowly, Courtney walked toward him, halting only when she'd reached the open doorway. "You're not going to tell me anything, are you, Mr. Oridge?"
; "No, Miss Johnston, I'm not."
She nodded, frustration screaming along every nerve ending in her body. "I don't like your answer. But I respect it. The earl is your employer. Any conclusions you reach, you must first discuss with him."
"Thank you for your understanding," Oridge said with businesslike formality.
"You're welcome." Courtney stepped into the hallway, feeling baffled and weary and far too stimulated to rest. Until Slayde returned to answer her questions, she feared sleep was out of the question.
"Pardon me, Miss Johnston."
Courtney turned to see Siebert standing a few feet away. "Yes?"
"Lady Aurora asked me to give you a message when you'd finished speaking with Mr. Oridge. Which I presume you have?" Receiving Courtney's confirming nod, he continued. "She asked if you'd join her and the viscountess in the yellow salon. That is, if you're not too fatigued. Lady Aurora did specify that she'd understand if you preferred to retire to your chambers." The tone of Siebert's voice clearly stated that Lady Aurora would understand no such thing.
With a glimmer of humor, Courtney replied, "Thank you, Siebert. I'll join them at once."
Recalling the location of the yellow salon, she made her way there, knocking politely before entering.
"Come in," Aurora called out. Her eyes brightened when she saw who her visitor was. "Oh, Courtney." She jumped to her feet. "I'm so glad you're able to join us. At long last, I can introduce you to Elinore."
The elegant woman seated alongside Aurora rose, a smile of welcome on her face. "Miss Johnston, I'm delighted. Aurora has spoken of you with such enthusiasm."
"As she has of you," Courtney reciprocated, feeling suddenly shy. Lady Stanwyk was not at all the plump, gray-haired, motherly figure she'd expected. She was exquisite: all rose-colored silk and glittering jewels, her dark hair upswept and curled just so, her demeanor polished, regal.
"Please, dear, sit down and have some tea." Evidently, the viscountess sensed her unease, for she beckoned Courtney in, pouring a cup of tea and offering it to her along with a plate of scones. "Aurora has been filling me in on the past week's dreadful events. Please accept my condolences. Your loss must be very painful. Not to mention how difficult today must have been, between answering endless questions and reliving your harrowing experience. I appreciate the fact that you were kind enough to join us when I'm sure you'd much rather be abed."
"I … thank you." Courtney accepted the proffered refreshment, lowering herself gratefully to the settee. Beneath Lady Stanwyk's warmth and compassion, she could feel her shyness wane. "Actually, I'm glad for the company. When Siebert found me, I was contemplating what to do, given that I felt too drained to do much of anything, yet far too awake to lie down. Tea and pleasant conversation are precisely what I need."
"Perfect," Aurora proclaimed. "Because tea and pleasant conversation are precisely what Elinore and I are indulging in." Helping herself to another scone, she sat down beside Courtney. "Elinore received my missive. She was generous enough, as always, to respond immediately."
"I had no idea what was transpiring at Pembourne, else I would have been here sooner." The viscountess resettled herself and took up her cup, sipping her tea gracefully. "I'm still having trouble digesting all this. When Slayde said he'd received ransom notes during your absence, I had no idea he meant anything of this magnitude."
"Why would you?" Aurora turned to Courtney. "We get threatening letters on a steady basis. Or rather, we did," she corrected herself, relief evident in her every word. "Because of that wretched black diamond. Thank God it's gone."
Courtney felt a stab of guilt, one she firmly squelched by reminding herself that Slayde's deception had been effected with Aurora's well-being in mind. "I can understand your feelings."
"And I can understand why that dreadful pirate chose your father's ship to attack," Elinore put in, studying Courtney before glancing briefly at Aurora. "There is a striking resemblance between the two of you. A cursory one, to be sure. But more than enough to fool Slayde on a dark night at sea. The poor man must have been beside himself. No wonder he was so irate when we arrived home from London."
"Speaking of London…" Aurora leaned forward. "That brings us to the reason for my missive. Elinore, I awaited Courtney's arrival to address the subject, because we have an important question to ask you—one that affects Courtney as much, if not more, than it does me. I pray your answer will help shed some light on whoever, if anyone, was working with this Armon."
Elinore's brow furrowed. "Of course, anything. How can I help you?"
Aurora sighed. "At the risk of bringing up a sore point, it concerns my trip to London—the one you and I just made."
"What about it?"
"During the fortnight we were making our arrangements, do you recall discussing them with anyone? Or if not discussing them, mentioning the possibility that I might be arriving in Town?"
An affectionate gleam lit Elinore's eyes. "Of course I mentioned it. I was far too excited to keep the news to myself. Further, how else would I ensure the deluge of invitations that awaited us upon our arrival? When Lady Southington and Lady Hucknell came to tea the previous week, I made certain they understood the situation—how important it was for the right people to include us on their guest lists. After all, this was your first trip to London; I wanted it to be everything you craved. I emphasized that very thing to my staff when I assigned two dozen of them to go on ahead and open the town house. I wanted everything perfect for you: your room, your social calendar." Seeing Aurora slump down on the sofa, Elinore paused, the sparkle extinguished from her eyes. "I assume that's not what you wanted to hear."
"No," Aurora replied. "But the fault lies with me, not you. I never told you I intended the trip to be kept secret—most probably, because I wanted just the opposite: for the ton to welcome me with open arms. In truth, I'd have been thrilled if the whole bloody world knew—so long as Slayde didn't."
Elinore gave her a stern, measured look. "Then Slayde was right. You really did intend to go without his knowledge."
"No, I intended to ride off without his knowledge," Aurora corrected. "And to travel too far for him to drag me back. After which I assumed he'd find the note I left him and accept my decision, however unwillingly. Had any clue…" Her voice trailed off.
"I'm not sure I understand your line of thinking." Elinore shook her head in puzzlement.
"Forgive me, Lady Stanwyk," Courtney put in. "All this is my idea. I wondered if perhaps someone else was involved in Aurora's feigned kidnapping, someone who learned ahead of time that she'd be in London and therefore arranged with Armon to send the notes and seize the Isobel during her absence."
"I see." Comprehension dawned on Elinore's face. "And you were hoping I could shed some light on who that someone else might be."
"Exactly."
Aurora shook her head in disgust. "The answer to that is any one of five hundred people, thanks to me."
"Stop it." Courtney squeezed Aurora's arm. "You had no way of knowing about Armon or his plan. You were simply planning a pleasurable trip with the viscountess."
"I, too, feel dreadful," Elinore murmured, lowering her cup and saucer to the table.
"Please don't blame yourself, my lady," Courtney said. "Neither you nor Aurora did anything wrong. I didn't expect this avenue to lead us anywhere; the whole idea was farfetched. I merely wanted to leave no stone unturned. The last thing I wish is for the two of you to feel guilty. So, please, let's just drop the subject. All right?"
"All right." For a moment, Elinore fell silent, assessing Courtney's dejected state. "I have a suggestion," she said at last. "'Tis late, and you're exhausted. Why don't I return tomorrow and the three of us can spend a lovely afternoon together. In fact, I'll speak to your cook and ask her to prepare a picnic lunch. We'll sit in the garden, eat, chat, and relax. How does that sound?"
Courtney felt her last filaments of shyness evaporate. "Thank you, my lady. Aurora didn't exaggerate when she spoke of your
kindness."
"Then perhaps you'll agree to call me Elinore. As I intend to call you Courtney. This way, I'll feel you're not only Aurora's friend, but mine as well."
"I'd like that … Elinore." Courtney smiled, coming to her feet, a wave of weakness reminding her just how tired she really was. "I think I'll take your advice and go rest. But I look forward to our picnic with great anticipation."
Elinore's smile was as dazzling as her jewels. "Wonderful. Until tomorrow, then. Good night, Courtney."
* * *
The silence awakened her. Courtney sat up, realizing by the darkness and the quiet that it was late—very late.
Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, she turned up the lamp, frowning when the hands of the clock announced that it was past midnight. Not only had she slept through dinner, she'd undoubtedly slept through Slayde's arrival and his conversation with Mr. Oridge.