Excitement shimmered through her. "Where are we going?"
"To fulfill your dreams. To the sites of every legend Mr. Scollard has ever told you—plus a few additional sites of my own. The world is at our feet, Rory, and I intend to show it to you. How would that be?"
"That would be paradise." Aurora's mind was already racing ahead to the wonder of discovery, the exhilaration of seeing, experiencing, traveling…
Coming home.
She blinked in astonishment at the ironic direction her thoughts had taken.
"Sweetheart, what is it?" Julian questioned.
"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "Try me."
"I was just thinking that our wedding trip sounds spectacular; a perfect beginning—and a perfect ending."
"Ending?" His brows drew together in puzzlement. "To what?"
"To a restlessness that is no more." Aurora drew a slow incredulous breath. "Oh, I'm sure I'll always embrace our journeys with open arms—as will you. But incomprehensible as this sounds, I'm looking forward to our homecoming almost as much as I am to our trip itself. Amazing, isn't it?" she said in wonder. "I've scarcely lived at Merlin Manor for one day, yet I've already begun to regard it as my home. Then again, that shouldn't surprise me. Your estate affected me as much—and as immediately—as you did, stealing my breath away and never quite restoring it. And your servants are the most endearing, albeit challenging group I've ever come upon. I can't wait to get to know them better. Most especially Emma, who's already reveling in her new job, and Gin, who's having a grand time trying to match wits with me—although I shudder to think how smug he must have been before I arrived." Aurora paused to inhale. "Also, the manor is but a shire away from Courtney and Slayde—and my new niece or nephew, who should be along very soon. Not to mention Mr. Scollard, whom I already miss and it's only been a few days." She broke off, eyeing the odd expression on Julian's face. "Am I upsetting you?"
"Upsetting me?" He shook his head. "No, soleil, you're making me incredibly happy. I saw the elation on your face yesterday as you explored Merlin Manor—strolling the beach, becoming acquainted with the servants—and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to transform my estate into the very home you just proclaimed it. At the time my reaction stunned me. But no longer. I realize now that ever since we met, I've been experiencing the perpetual and inexplicable need to do something I never fathomed doing, much less yearning to do: put down roots. Reconsidering Mr. Scollard's words in light of that fact, I begin to understand what he meant when he said you were a journey unto yourself, at the same time implying that my destination had yet to be reached." Julian caressed her face, his eyes alight with wonder. "He'll be proud to know that my journey is at an end—and the culmination is the greatest blessing I could ever imagine."
"The greatest blessing for us both," Aurora amended softly. She inclined her head, infused with a different type of joy. "You've pondered Mr. Scollard's words?"
"Thoroughly and repeatedly," Julian confirmed. "As I galloped toward the black cliffs, 'twas as if he were inside my head urging me on, reiterating the things he'd said two days past. I kept hearing his voice describing Barnes as having a wealth of resolution hovering at his feet, emphasizing the fact that Barnes possessed the ability to draw forth ghosts of the past that had to be silenced forever, else the future would remain out of reach. I believe Mr. Scollard was referring to our future, Rory, not merely that of the black diamond."
"And the ghosts we had to resolve—you think he meant Macall?"
"And Guillford."
"Yes, and Guillford." Aurora pursed her lips. "Sources expected and unknown—lurking in numbers, and in numbers were undone."
"So you heard Scollard's voice, too."
"I always do."
"We heeded his counsel," Julian pronounced. "You took care of me, and I of you."
"And now?"
"Now we do his bidding. We return to tell him of our discovery."
"He's going to have answers for us this time, Julian," Aurora realized aloud, somehow knowing it was true. "Or perhaps we'll supply those answers ourselves … with the aid of Mr. Scollard's magic."
"Perhaps." Julian cupped his wife's face between his palms. "In any case, the obstacles are behind us, soleil."
Aurora nodded. "All but one."
"The black diamond."
"Yes," she concurred. "The black diamond."
* * *
Mr. Scollard emerged from the lighthouse the instant their carriage came to a halt. "Welcome back," he greeted them, his bright blue eyes suspiciously damp.
Aurora ran forward and flung her arms about him. "Thank you," she whispered fiercely. "You never left us, not even for a moment."
"'Twas your faith that never left you, Rory," he declared, holding her away for a quick inspection, followed by a satisfied nod. "Your faith, your courage, and most of all, your love." With that, his glance shifted to Julian. "Your wound is healed?"
"Healed and well worth enduring." Julian gazed soberly at his newfound friend. "Thank you."
A hint of a smile. "And your destination—are the rewards all I envisioned them to be?"
"Even greater."
"Excellent." Mr. Scollard led them inside to the sitting room. "Then let us amass all your questions and put them to rest. 'Tis time for the ultimate resolution—and a most resplendent wedding trip."
That brought Aurora's head up. "You wouldn't care to tell me a bit more about that trip, would you?" she asked, settling herself on the settee.
"No, I wouldn't," Mr. Scollard retorted. "So you can stop staring at me like a hopeful pup awaiting a treat. That treat must be provided by your husband." He lowered himself to an armchair, shaking his head in exasperation. "Honestly, Rory, will you and Courtney never learn some patience? Between fending off her incessant questions about her babe's arrival date and now persuading you to stop snooping into your husband's surprise … 'tis a wonder I have enough strength left to climb the stairs to the tower."
"Do you know when the babe will come?"
Another twinkle. "Only the babe knows that."
That incited a worried frown.
"You'll have plenty of time, Rory," Mr. Scollard reassured her. "Resolve the past. Plan the future. By the time you embark upon it, you'll be an aunt."
"Very well." She leaned forward. "As you know, we spoke with Mr. Barnes. He told us nothing we didn't already know."
"Didn't he?"
Julian perched on the arm of the settee. "You're saying there was more to Barnes's purpose than leading us to Macall and Guillford?"
"I'm saying life's coincidences aren't coincidences at all, but fate."
"Like the sudden and essential appearance of a lighthouse that is a twin to this one?" Aurora inserted.
Mr. Scollard inclined his snow-white head. "No such lighthouse appears on any chart."
"I saw it, Mr. Scollard," she murmured, remembering that dark moment of despair when her friend's presence had sustained her. "I looked out toward Land's End and saw that miraculous beam just before Julian sprang down and attacked Lord Guillford. I wouldn't have survived my ordeal otherwise."
"Odd," Mr. Scollard replied. "Where you stood was Lizard Point, the southernmost tip of Lizard Peninsula. Land's End is miles from there. Then again, you were at one of Cornwall's highest peaks. That would explain your spying something so far away. But distinguishing the building's details, now that is an accomplishment."
"But not a coincidence," Aurora qualified, employing Mr. Scollard's philosophy. "That lighthouse appeared for a reason—to save my life. And distant or not, it seemed incredibly near. Why, I could see Land's End as clearly as if…"
"Rory." Julian's head whipped around, his eyes blazing with discovery. "Think about what you just said, and think about what Barnes told us."
Aurora frowned. "You've lost me."
"You said you could see Land's End, that it was incredibly near. Now consider my great-grandf
ather's last words, the ones Barnes said he uttered in feverish delirium."
Realization struck. "He said that the end was near, the end was in sight, that he'd see James before he got there." Her eyes widened. "You think he meant Land's End?"
"Based upon Mr. Scollard's theory that life's coincidences are in reality fate—yes, I think he meant Land's End."
"Then by following that theory through, Geoffrey's saying he'd see James before he got there means the jewel is hidden somewhere relatively near Land's End." Aurora leapt to her feet and began pacing about. "That could be a dozen places—Penzance, Mousehole, Newlyn…"
"Might I remind you that there are still quite a few clues and apparent coincidences left unexplored?" Mr. Scollard suggested offhandedly.
"The clues." Julian snatched up the bag they'd brought from Cornwall, extracting both strongboxes—each bearing its key and contents—together with the sketch of Morland and the falcon text.
"Yes, the clues are all here, yet they're useless without the coincidences," Mr. Scollard proclaimed with but a cursory glance at the items Julian had displayed. "Each is integrally tied to the other."
"The coincidences. Fine." Julian prowled about, hands clasped behind his back. "A lighthouse that doesn't exist, examined clearly from a distant spot."
"Distant, yes, but seen nonetheless," Scollard clarified. "Seen at a moment of greatest despair, transforming it to a moment of greatest triumph. Seen by means of a miracle of nature—the same miracle that permitted you to rescue Rory from her fate."
Julian had stopped pacing and was pondering Mr. Scollard's words. "That miracle of nature was a peak in the black cliffs."
"Indeed. One of the shire's highest, I would imagine. Cornwall boasts many such peaks. Not all must be quite so towering or difficult to mount. It all depends on what is being sought and who is doing the seeking." One white brow arched. "Then again, I'm sure you know that. You are, after all, the Merlin—are you not? Or, at least, one type thereof."
"You're speaking in riddles." Julian eyed him speculatively.
"As did Rory's great-grandfather."
"The falcon book." Aurora nearly tripped over Julian in her haste to grab it. "You're alluding to the inscription in the book." She opened the front cover, pointing to the section she sought. "'As it is with the merlin and the kestrel, chart your path, then soar to the highest peak and the key to all life's treasures will be yours'." She stared from the book to Mr. Scollard. "Wherever the black diamond is, we can spy its location from a peak close to Land's End." Again, she lowered her head, rereading the words as Julian stalked up beside her. "'Chart your path'," she murmured. "I wonder if 'chart' refers to Geoffrey's sketch." She swept the diagram from the table. "Could it be there's more here than we've already used?"
"Possibly." Julian inspected his great-grandfather's sketch, then gazed pointedly back at the book. 'You are far greater than you appear'—" he read aloud, scanning the first lines of the inscription. "'A rock of strength, a giant among men'. If there is a connection between these words and the map, I'd guess that connection to be the word 'giant'—which leads us back to the legend that inspired Geoffrey's design. Is that what James is alluding to here? Is your great-grandfather sending us back to the Tamar River? If so, it negates everything we just determined."
"True. The Tamar is nowhere near Land's End," Aurora conceded. "Still, you're right about the blatant reference to a giant. It seems too glaring to be a coincidence…" She caught herself using that word again, and her gaze flew to Mr. Scollard's. "Which it's not, is it? It's significant."
"As there are many types of merlins, there are many breeds of giants. Some are legendary, others tangible."
"A tangible giant?" Aurora frowned, totally at sea.
"If we follow the pattern, that tangible giant is a place," Julian reasoned aloud.
"Of course!" A soft gasp escaped Aurora's lips, fragments of memory falling into place. "Giant's Cave," she breathed, meeting Mr. Scollard's approving gaze. "How could I have forgotten?"
"You were little more than a tot when I relayed that particular tale to you, Rory," the lighthouse keeper replied. "It was sleeping in your memory, awaiting the right time to be recalled. That time is now."
"I know of no Giant's Cave," Julian inserted, brows drawn in puzzlement. "Given the fact that I've encountered many of Cornwall's most noted smugglers, I find that odd."
"No, actually, it isn't." Aurora turned to her husband. "You see, Giant's Cave is not a cave at all—it's a village."
"A village? Impossible. I know every village in…"
"As you know this one," she concurred. "Only you know it by another name: Mousehole."
Julian's jaw dropped. "Explain."
"Gladly. Giant's Cave is Mousehole's true name, although no one refers to it as such. It was coined 'Mousehole' by boatmen who recognized its inaccessibility by any means other than water—'tis near impossible to reach by land."
"As the giants pursuing Tamara spilled forth into the Channel, so does Giant's Cave," Mr. Scollard murmured.
"So that's the connection," Aurora breathed. "Another coincidence that's not a coincidence at all."
"I'll be damned." Julian shook his head in amazement, then glanced at Mr. Scollard, a new awareness dawning in his eyes. "That sheds light on another particular phrase you used. In referring to the black cliffs, you said that not all peaks must be quite so towering or difficult to mount. Mount—as in Mount's Bay, the cove of water surrounding Mousehole, spanning the distance between Lizard's Point and Land's End."
"That's where I spotted the lighthouse," Aurora realized, her mind streaking back over the details she could recall of the waters just east of Land's End. "But there are no cliffs arising from the bay. There's St. Michael's Mount, that magnificent old castle that sits amid the bay—but its location is all wrong. It's east of Mousehole, and as a result, even farther away from Land's End. It's also hardly what I would call a tangible peak…" Abruptly she broke off and seized her husband's forearm. "The rocks—there were several formidable ones jutting out of the water." She pointed to James's inscription. "'A rock of strength'," she recited. "It makes perfect sense. I should have thought of it immediately. One of the rocks in Mount's Bay is the tangible peak that will lead us to the black diamond." Another quick glance at Mr. Scollard. "And I know just which rock it is."
Julian's head snapped around. "Go on."
"'Tis the second part of the legend Mr. Scollard told me all those years ago—and it, too, has just awakened in my memory along with its counterpart." Aurora's eyes began to dance. "There's a legendary rock in the waters leading toward the village which, unlike the other jagged peaks in the bay, is submerged, revealed only at low tide. It's name is Merlin Carreg—or translated, Merlin Rock. That's the rock in James's inscription, the one upon which we must stand to find the treasure." She gave a little skip. "Many merlins, many giants, no coincidences—it's all falling into place."
"Indeed it is." Julian's face was taut with excitement as he scanned James's inscription once last time, then held out the book for Aurora's inspection. "Read the closing phrase of James's inscription. It provides us with the last piece of crucial information we need. James's instructions are now abundantly clear, as is our course. Mousehole is on the coast near Penzance, some eight miles east of Land's End. Both Mount's Bay and Merlin Rock lie directly at its feet. We must await low tide. When that occurs, we'll row out to Merlin Rock and climb out onto it. And then, we'll gaze across Mount's Bay in a direct line to Mousehole, keeping Land's End in sight."
"But what is it we're seeking?" Aurora asked, scanning James's words to determine what her husband knew that she didn't. "Surely our great-grandfathers wouldn't choose a hiding place that's within clear view of every passing sailor."
"They didn't. Mount's Bay is navigated mainly by fishermen, all of whom sail along the coastline so as to avoid the very rocks you just mentioned. And should a few ships actually pass close enough by Merlin Rock to offer their occu
pants the precise view our great-grandfathers meant for us to see, those glimpsing it wouldn't have a clue they were beholding something of great significance."
"What exactly is it they'd be beholding?" Aurora demanded.
"The final piece of the puzzle: the highest peak."
"Mousehole's highest peak?"
"Exactly."
"But Julian, Mousehole is a small fishing village. There are no soaring cliffs, ridges, or moors there."
"There needn't be. Keep in mind what Mr. Scollard said—not all peaks must be quite so towering or difficult to mount. The peak we're seeking could be no more than a modest hill. The important thing is that it will be visible from where we stand, and it will be taller than all else surrounding it." Julian tossed a grin in Mr. Scollard's direction. "Remember: 'It all depends on what is being sought and who is doing the seeking'."