"'Tis fact, Julian. You've already acted more honorably than the two generations dividing you and Geoffrey, obscuring your nobility. Your inner strength matches his; your physical strength is far greater. And your assets exceed any he ever knew, for your partnership surpasses friendship."
That he understood. "You're speaking of Rory," Julian said, glancing tenderly at his wife. "And, if so, you and I are in complete agreement. My wife is an incomparable asset."
"And a journey unto herself."
Julian frowned. "You've lost me."
"No, you've just yet to reach where I stand. You will." Mr. Scollard refilled the cups. "Now, back to what I can tell you. The book—it bears many messages, some I see, others I don't. What I do see is a man, an old man with wisps of memory stored in his mind and a wealth of resolution hovering at his feet."
"An old man?" Aurora's saucer clattered to the table. "What old man? Where can we find him? What does he know? Can he help us find the diamond? Have we ever met him? Is he a pirate? Has he sailed with Julian?"
Scollard gave her an indulgent smile. "Ah, Rory, if I am a wizard, it's to keep up with your questions. No mere mortal could do so." He cast a sympathetic glance at Julian. "Stay sharp as you are. Else you'll fall by the wayside."
Julian chuckled. "I'll remember that."
"Mr. Scollard, tell us!" Aurora persisted.
"Very well." The lighthouse keeper pursed his lips. "The one who has firsthand knowledge. In a Cornish pub—I'm not certain which one. More than anyone else. That you'll have to discover for yourself. No, you haven't. No, he's not. And, no, he never has." A pleased nod. "I believe I've answered them all in order."
"I have no idea what you just said," Aurora replied, frustration lacing her tone.
"Really, Rory, if I can provide the answers, you can at least keep track of the questions."
"Perhaps if you combined all the answers into one," Julian suggested, biting back laughter despite his rampaging curiosity.
"Fine." Mr. Scollard gave a tolerant sigh. "The elderly fellow of whom I speak was a sailor, not a pirate. He's far too old to have sailed with you, Julian; he retired from his trade before you were born. He spends most of his time reminiscing with other onetime sailors at a small pub not too far from your manor in Polperro—" A pensive lapse. "I cannot see precisely where, but I do know you've never met. Whether or not he leads you to the black diamond, he's necessary for the completion of the journey, for he'll draw forth ghosts of the past that must be silenced forever, else the future will remain out of reach. And he knows more of the truth than anyone else to whom you might speak, for he's the last person yet alive who sailed with Geoffrey on his final voyage to England."
Julian nearly bolted from his chair. "You're saying he was actually on the ship where my great-grandfather died?"
"I am."
"Mr. Scollard," Aurora inserted, her eyes huge, "how old is this sailor?"
A shrug. "Some years past eighty. Fairly lucid, though. And his memories of sixty years ago are vivid."
"How can we find him?"
"That I will leave to your husband, who is far more adept at these matters than I." Mr. Scollard tensed a bit, alerting them to the, magnitude of his next words. "Don't underestimate the dangers that await from sources expected and unknown. They lurk in numbers, and in numbers must be undone. Greed is a great propellant. Vengeance wields more power still. And desperation is the most menacing by far, for it offers reward with no risk. Take great care, for the path upon which you now embark is deep with shadows, dark with hatred. Go with vision, perception, wits, and purpose. Return with peace, safety—and by the grace of God." A surge of trepidation crossed Mr. Scollard's face. "My gifts are limited. I wish I had more with which to protect you. I have only flashes of insight, heartfelt prayers, and a profusion of faith. May they be enough." He stared off, his eyes veiled with concern. "The obstacles are vast, the treasures vaster still. But go you must. 'Tis necessary to attain resolution. May finding it not cost more than its worth." He blinked, returning from wherever he'd been. "Finish your tea, both of you. Then go. Share your insights with Courtney and Slayde. After which, do what you must. And most of all, return to tell me of your discovery."
Throughout Scollard's discourse, the color had drained from Aurora's cheeks. "Mr. Scollard, I've never heard you talk like this," she whispered. "Are we truly in such grave danger?" The tip of her tongue wet her lips. "Will we … prevail?"
Scollard rose, walked over to ruffle Aurora's hair. "I see only that which I've told you," he said quietly. "Hold fast to your strength and your husband." His solemn gaze met Julian's. "Take care of her. As she will of you."
* * *
"I don't like this." Slayde was pacing about the yellow salon. "Scollard never says such ominous things as the ones you've just relayed. Aurora, maybe Julian should seek out this sailor on his own."
"No." Aurora gave an adamant shake of her head. "That's out of the question—and not only because I'd be exploding with curiosity." She swallowed, staring at her lap. "I'd be sick with worry."
"Julian?" Slayde arched a questioning brow in his direction.
"I told you I'd take care of Aurora, and I will," Julian replied, studying his wife's bowed head. "But locking her away, squelching her spirit is not the answer. Like the falcon, she needs to soar; which, in this case, means accompanying me, seeking the same answers I do." He saw Aurora's head snap up, her expression a mixture of wonder and relief. "I haven't forgotten the vows I made when I asked for her hand," he added pointedly, addressing Slayde but speaking to Aurora. "Not to my wife or to you—" His jaw set, he met Slayde's gaze head-on. "Aurora will go with me. However, she will also be safe."
Slayde scowled.
"Slayde," Courtney interceded, "there was a time not long ago when I was in a similar position to Aurora, a time you let me accompany you to the seediest section of Dartmouth to resolve our pasts."
"I did that against my will."
A smile. "I know. And I suspect Julian is doing this against his. But don't try to deter him. Certainly don't try to deter Aurora. Lest you've forgotten, 'twould be easier to upend a dozen limestone cliffs."
"Fine." Slayde shot Julian a look. "You'd best keep your vows."
"I always do."
A nod. "It's late. Spend the night at Pembourne. You can start for Polperro at first light."
"I think that's a sound idea." Julian rose. "It's been a long, exhausting day."
"I agree." Aurora, too, came to her feet. "It feels like a year since we dashed out of here this morning."
"Which reminds me," Julian asked Slayde, "what was Guillford's reaction to our appearance? Did he say anything after we left?"
"About you and Aurora? No. Your names were glaringly absent from our conversation. He still feels insulted by what he considers to be a flagrant slap in the face; I can sense it. But there's not a damned thing I can do about it. The man is entitled to his feelings, and he's just too set in his ways to overcome them. I don't think you need worry that he'll ever cause a scene—that same adherence to the rules of proper protocol will prevent him from acting in an unseemly fashion. I suspect he'll continue to be civil whenever your paths cross, be that in business or social circumstances. But I wouldn't expect any invitations to his house parties."
"I'm crushed," Julian returned dryly.
"I'm sure. In any case, he's nearly as stiff with me as he is with you. He probably believes that since Aurora was my charge, I'm responsible for her appalling behavior. Not to mention that I placed him in an untenable position; after all, I'm the one who promised Aurora to him, eager and untouched."
"I was never eager. Even when I was untouched," Aurora muttered.
"Be that as it may, he has definitely cooled off toward me. His sole interest in coming here today was business. It seems he's found a splendid racehorse, one he's convinced will yield huge profits. Unfortunately his own funds are tied up in other investments, so he asked if I'd be willing to put up the mon
ey for purchasing and training the stallion, after which the initial profits reaped from the horse's winnings would be mine. Once I'd recouped my investment, we would split the profits fifty-fifty. The deal was sound. I agreed. Immediately thereafter, the viscount stood up, announced that Camden would handle the details of our transaction, and took his leave. The entire meeting took less than an hour. Your carriage had scarcely rounded the drive when Guillford's followed suit." Slayde inclined his head in question. "Why? Does the viscount's disapproval trouble you?"
"Not in the least," Julian returned. "Although I do think the man is being absurd about the matter. He has a flock of women to choose from—" A smug grin. "—even if they do pale in comparison to my wife. Still, I realize this is not about Guillford's severed betrothal, for he knows as well as I do that he and Aurora are about as right for each other as a fox and a hen. This is about his bloody propriety." A dismissive shrug. "Either he'll get over it or he won't. The choice is his. I have more pressing matters to contend with. Such as getting some rest so I can track down the old man Scollard spoke of and ensure my spirited wife's continued well-being."
"Of course—that's it," Aurora exclaimed.
"What's it?" Julian's head whipped around.
"Nothing … I just realized … that is, it finally dawned on me…" She broke off, clearly searching for a believable reply.
"It finally dawned on you…?" Julian prompted, biting back a smile. Whatever great revelation had just erupted in his wife's mind, she obviously had no intentions of sharing it. Lord, she was the very worst of liars. "What is it that dawned on you?"
Instantly Aurora's expression brightened and she gave an exaggerated yawn. "The fact that I'm half-asleep." A swift side-glance at her sister-in-law. "What's more, I noticed that Courtney is looking extremely peaked."
"Am I?" Courtney inquired, her eyes twinkling.
"Yes. You are." Aurora shot her friend a meaningful look. "In fact, if you gentlemen don't mind, I think we should start up for bed."
"I agree." Julian played along, taking a step toward the door.
"No!" Aurora burst out. "That is … I meant Courtney and myself. You and Slayde stay here until your business is concluded."
"Our business is already concluded, Aurora," Slayde inserted dryly. "Yours, on the other hand, is apparently just beginning. You look like a rabbit about to bolt."
"Do I? I'm just tired." Her glance fell on the falcon book clutched in Julian's hand. "I think you two should stay in the salon a few minutes longer. Slayde, you should copy down the inscription and the underscored words in James's book, so you and Courtney can contemplate their meaning while Julian and I are in Cornwall."
"Aurora…" Slayde folded his arms across his chest. "I've seen that look on your face a hundred times before. What are you up to?"
"Nothing." Pausing only to nudge Courtney's elbow, Aurora began inching her way toward the door. "I promise you, Slayde, I'm going nowhere but upstairs. You and Julian can watch me make my ascent."
"So you can shimmy down the oak just outside your bedchamber and make your escape?"
Courtney began to laugh. "I don't think that's what Aurora has in mind, darling. Not if she means to include me in her plan." Courtney lay a gentle palm on her abdomen. "That poor oak would collapse beneath my weight."
"You're beautiful," Slayde countered instantly, his gaze softening with tenderness. "And so slight it's a wonder you haven't collapsed beneath the weight of my child. No, love—the oak would fare splendidly. Aurora, on the other hand…" He glared at his sister. "She would not fare nearly as well if she made any attempt to drag you off…"
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Aurora interrupted, rolling her eyes in frustration. "I'm not planning anything. Why would I? I have nothing to escape from. If you must know, I simply want to talk to Courtney alone."
"Go right ahead, soleil." Julian gestured toward the door. "Go up and have your chat. Slayde and I will follow shortly."
Aurora eyed him uncertainly. "You believe me?"
"Indeed I do. For several reasons. One, because you're a deplorable liar. Two, because I trust my instincts. And three, because I'd track you down in a heartbeat, and you know it."
A tiny smile played about her lips. "Yes, I do." She turned and tugged Courtney's arm. "Come. I need to see you."
Courtney complied, her shoulders shaking with laughter. "Really? I never would have known." They exited the salon.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Slayde demanded, scowling as he watched the women's retreating backs.
"Positive." Julian grinned, following Slayde's gaze. "Evidently my wife has something quite pressing to share with yours."
Slayde's jaw tightened. "That's precisely what I'm afraid of."
* * *
"All right, Aurora." Still grinning, Courtney settled herself on a chair in Aurora's room. "We've completed our subtle exit. I've had ten seconds to catch my breath. Now, what's on your mind? I hope nothing you want kept secret—obviously our husbands are going to have a million questions about the hasty retreat we just bid."
"That's fine. Although I think they'll be terribly disappointed when they hear what it was I wanted to discuss with you." Aurora leaned back against the closed door, her eyes shining with excitement. "I've just come to a wonderful realization—one that has nothing to do with the diamond, or with danger, or with the fictitious escape Slayde is convinced I have planned."
"But one that has everything to do with Julian," Courtney guessed.
Aurora nodded. "I told him."
"You told him you love him?"
"Yes."
"How did he react?"
"Not in the way I'd imagined. Nor in the way you'd imagined, either." Aurora crossed over and perched on the edge of the bed. "Although you were right about one thing—I'm completely unable to keep things to myself. I blurted out my admission the instant the opportunity arose. Then again, I never can seem to think straight when I'm in Julian's arms."
"I take it you confessed your feelings during an intimate moment?"
Another nod.
"In that case, Julian was as vulnerable as you," Courtney pointed out.
"Too vulnerable, at least from my husband's perspective. Had he had his full wits about him, he'd have done a better job of cloaking his reaction—even if my declaration did come as a huge surprise."
"Which, I'm presuming, it did?"
"Absolutely. Julian looked stunned and decidedly tense."
"Did he say anything?"
"He said he was moved, humbled, and honored—and that no one had ever offered him those words before."
"That sounds promising."
"Yes, but it was what he didn't say that's plagued me all day. Immediately after I blurted out my feelings, he withdrew somehow—not physically, not even verbally; but then again, that's not Julian's style. His self-restraint isn't worn on the surface like Slayde's was. Outwardly my husband is charming and expressive. Openness comes easily to him—but only in bed and in conversation. Anything deeper is another matter entirely. Feelings, emotions—that's where his self-imposed boundaries are set. His own feelings and emotions." Aurora drew a slow, purposeful breath. "Courtney, I've had several hours to think about this, to analyze the conflict Julian is experiencing. And what I finally understand, perhaps what you already understood, is that my loving Julian presents little or no problem for him. He has only to accept my feelings while still retaining control over his. The real problem would be if he let himself love me in return. Now that would render him vulnerable, something he refuses to be—for all the reasons you and I have already discussed."
Courtney nodded. "But he's already falling in love with you. So he's already vulnerable, whether he chooses to admit it or not."
"I know that," Aurora said quietly, interlacing her fingers, pressing her palms tightly together. "And on some level, so does Julian. But he's not going to give in without a fight. Until now he's been safe, transient—no family, no home, and no possibility of
loss. Loving me would change all that. 'Twould mean relinquishing his autonomy, entertaining a risk far greater than those incited by all his adventures combined." She paused. "And there's one thing more. Do you remember what I said about Julian feeling guilty for not being able to prevent Hugh's death?"
"I remember."
"I think that's a big part of this, too. Have you ever noticed how often and how vehemently my husband vows that he'll protect me, ensure my well-being?"
"You think that's because he couldn't do that for his brother?"
"To some extent, yes. All his life, Julian has been strong, self-sufficient, a man others looked to for solutions. He takes that role very seriously, even in his work. He feels a tremendous responsibility to set things right, to restore and protect. Well, one can't be omnipotent and vulnerable all at once, can one?"