A corner of Julian's mouth lifted. "Your staff is loyal."
"They have reason to be."
"I'm curious about your butler—Siebert, did you say his name was?—about Siebert's animosity. Does it stem from outrage over last night's indiscretion or a fundamental hatred for the Bencrofts?"
"Perhaps some of both." Slayde gripped the edge of his desk. "Why are you here, Morland?"
Without the slightest show of discomfort, Julian crossed over to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of Madeira. "Would you like one?"
"No."
Taking a healthy swallow, Julian leaned back against the sideboard, watching Slayde and gauging his reaction. "Before I begin, let me state my position on a less than pleasant topic—one we've always carefully avoided, as we've avoided each other. I've never subscribed to this timeless war between our families. I never intend to. I'm not sure where you stand on the issue. I know you despised my grandfather and, to a lesser extent, my father. But am I correct in assuming that prior to what happened last night, you had nothing against me personally?"
Slayde's brooding stare darkened. "I'm not certain how to answer that. No, I had nothing against you personally—until last night. However, that doesn't mean I ever forgot you were Lawrence Bencroft's son."
Julian had expected nothing less. "Regardless of that fact, I'd appreciate you putting aside your hostility long enough to hear me out."
A muscle worked in Slayde's jaw. "You ask a great deal, Morland. Your father's lying accusations have once again thrown my life into chaos and my family into danger. I'm fighting to keep them safe. And just when I'd ensured Aurora's future, she ran off to stage her own ruin. Her defiler? The last remaining Bencroft, the very man whose family has sought to destroy mine for nearly a century. So you'll forgive me if I'm a bit less than hospitable. As for hearing you out, I'll do so only because Aurora tells me you didn't realize her identity any more than she did yours. Nevertheless, be aware that after you've had your say, I intend to call you out. Not because you're a Bencroft, but because you're an immoral blackguard."
"Fair enough." With an unruffled nod, Julian tossed off his Madeira. "You do realize, however, that you'd be providing gossips such as Lady Altec with precisely the ammunition they seek."
"I doubt they could hurt Aurora any more than she's already hurt herself."
"I suppose that's true. Still, a duel won't be necessary."
"I disagree. Now, name the time and place."
"The time? As soon as possible. The place? Any church will suffice. Even Pembourne's chapel, if you prefer."
"You want to duel in a chapel?" Slayde asked incredulously.
"No, I want to marry your sister in a chapel."
Slayde's breath expelled in a rush. "What did you say?"
"I think I made myself clear. I've come to offer for Aurora. Is that so surprising? I am, after all, the man who ruined her for the Viscount…?" Julian inclined his head quizzically. "Who was she to marry, anyway?"
"Guillford," Slayde supplied automatically, his expression a picture of stunned disbelief.
"Guillford?" Julian gave a derisive snort, shaking his head and prowling restlessly about the room. "No wonder Aurora was so eager to free herself. Guillford is a pleasant enough fellow—I've shared many a game of whist with him—but he's about as exciting as an unpainted canvas. Surely you realize how wrong he is for your sister."
"Morland, have you lost your bloody mind?" Slayde seemed to recover himself all at once. "Or is this your idea of some cruel and vicious joke?"
"I don't joke about my life, Pembourne." Julian stalked over to the desk, leaning forward to confront Slayde head-on. "Neither do I forsake my responsibilities—at least those I deem worth shouldering. Surprised? Don't be. The truth is, you don't know a bloody thing about me or about my principles. All you know is whatever you've convinced yourself are 'Bencroft' traits. Now let's get to Aurora. You're concerned over her future, and with good reason. Most of the ton's suitable gentlemen are either married or terrified by the very name of Huntley. And once Lady Altec has spread her news—as I hear she does remarkably well—the final few potential suitors will vanish like the mist. Which reminds me, has the oh-so-proper Viscount Guillford cried off yet? If not, I'm sure he will the very instant his driver can rush him to Pembourne Manor. Now, let's see. Aurora is how old—nearly one and twenty? I fear her marital prospects look bleak."
Anger slashed Slayde's features. "So you're here to sacrifice yourself? How noble. And how unbelievable. What do you really want—to taunt me?"
"No. I want Aurora. I wanted her the minute I saw her. Before I knew she was a Huntley. Before I even knew what the hell she was doing in Dawlish's. She's a beautiful, captivating woman. One whom, for the record, I had no intentions of bedding last night. Nor, by the way, did she ask me to. On the contrary, she made her innocence a well-known fact from the start. All she wanted was to disentangle herself from an unwanted betrothal."
Slayde's color had returned and he was watching Julian with a guarded expression. "You really mean this, don't you?"
"Yes. Now the question is, are you going to forbid the marriage because I'm a Bencroft? If so, you're a fool. I'm not my father, nor am I my grandfather. I walked out of that house six years ago for a reason. I never intended to return. But circumstances altered that decision. So I'm here—for now."
"For now. How comforting. After which you'll be off again, roaming the globe, I presume."
"In time, yes."
"And what will Aurora do? Be imprisoned at Morland? She's miserable enough doing that here, and Pembourne is her home."
An unexpected grin tugged at Julian's lips. "If my suspicions about Aurora are correct, she'll be dashing about the world at my side."
"Don't look so damned smug. Aurora would accompany the devil himself in order to experience a life of adventure."
Julian's eyes glinted. "I'm sure you're right. Fortunately I'm not the devil. Moreover, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I don't think Aurora's accompanying me would be inspired solely by her desire for adventure. Your sister was as intrigued by me as I was by her. And if you're about to ask how I know that—don't. You won't like the answer."
Slayde's hands balled into fists. "You bastard."
"Unfortunately not. I'm a Bencroft. But that's already been too well established." Julian's goblet struck the desk with a purposeful thud. "Look, Pembourne. I'll give you a wealth of reasons why you should consider my offer. First, I happen to be the man Aurora approached—the man who eventually helped ruin her. Second, better than anyone, I know the ramifications of the black diamond's ludicrous curse. Hordes of scoundrels are hell-bent on finding the stone—using whatever means they have to. You want Aurora gone from Pembourne, safely taken care of. She would be. To begin with, she'd no longer be a Huntley. Thus, she'd no longer be a target for thieves—or worse. Further, let me assure you that no one, I repeat no one, for whom I'm responsible is ever harmed. I vow to you that as my wife Aurora will be fully protected at all times—by me. Safety will cease to be an issue. On to financial security. My father squandered his money. I did not. I'm wealthy enough to offer Aurora any luxury she might want. I can also bestow upon her the elevated title of duchess—albeit accompanied by the name Morland." Julian arched a brow. "Think about what a delightful upheaval we'd cause. After all these years, merging our families. That alone would make it worthwhile, even if it weren't for the splendid reasons I just enumerated."
"What about Aurora's wishes?" Slayde demanded. "Where do those fit in?"
"They didn't seem to concern you when you arranged her betrothal to Guillford."
"This is different."
"Very. Aurora didn't want him. She does want me."
"You're so bloody sure?"
"Why don't we ask her?" Julian suggested with a grand sweep of his arm. "Summon her to your study. Tell her of my offer. Then give me a half hour to talk with her. Alone. After which I'll leave, give her time to consider her options.
" His lips twitched. "If I'm wrong, if she refuses me, then you can call me out and shoot me dead. Or at least you can try."
For a long silent moment, Slayde just stared. Then he nodded. "Very well, Morland. Let's play by your rules. I'll have Siebert summon Aurora."
* * *
Four minutes later, Aurora knocked tentatively and stepped into the study. "You wanted to see me?"
Slayde rose. "No, actually my visitor wanted to see you." He inclined his head toward the sideboard where Julian lounged, watching Aurora's entrance. "You remember the Duke of Morland?"
Twin spots of color stained her cheeks, but she met Julian's gaze without flinching. "Yes—I remember. Good afternoon, Your Grace."
Julian grinned at her formal acknowledgment. Straightening, he crossed over until he stood before her, close enough to make out all the vibrant hues of her red-gold hair. "Lady Aurora," he replied, capturing her hand, slowly raising her fingers to his lips. "How are you?"
She inclined her head, myriad emotions flashing across her face. "The same as I was when you last saw me," she managed. "One doesn't change overnight."
His lips brushed her skin. "Doesn't one?"
He could actually hear her breath catch.
"Aurora," Slayde announced without prelude, "the duke has come here to offer for you."
Turquoise eyes widened with astonishment. "Why?" she blurted.
Julian's grin widened. "I think that's obvious."
"No—it's not." Aurora tugged her hand away. "I'm not some pathetic waif that needs a home, Your Grace. Nor must I be rescued from the outcome of my reckless act. You weren't responsible for last night's … episode. I was. There's no need for you to make amends."
"Amends?" Seeing the golden sparks ignite Aurora's eyes, the proud tilt of her chin, Julian found himself wondering if this plan was going to yield even more than he himself had realized. "I assure you, making amends is the last term I would use to describe my intentions. That would imply a sense of regret, which I happen not to feel." He cut himself short, determined for this conversation to remain private—for many reasons.
Pointedly he turned to Slayde. "We agreed that I might speak with your sister alone."
"Yes, we did." Slayde glanced at Aurora. "Do you have any objections?"
She looked as if she wanted nothing better than to voice some. But in the end curiosity won out. "I have no objections."
"Very well." Slayde snapped open his timepiece, making note of the hour. "Thirty minutes." He headed for the door. "I'll be just down the hall."
Julian waited until the quiet click of the door handle signified they were alone. Then he turned his attention back to Aurora, who was openly studying him, a wary expression on her face. She was even lovelier than he remembered, Julian mused silently. Her features were alive, vibrant, her figure slight yet enticingly curved—as the close-fitting bodice of her morning dress revealed—her eyes as vivid as flawless gems, her hair a shimmering cloud of golden red.
Marriage was beginning to look infinitely appealing.
"Why are you staring at me?" Aurora interrupted his thoughts to demand.
A corner of Julian's mouth lifted. "I could ask you the same question. In my case, I'm staring at you because you're beautiful. And your reason?"
"I'm just … surprised to see you. I'm even more surprised by your proposal. And I'm awaiting an explanation."
He chuckled. "You're not surprised to see me. You watched my arrival from your bedchamber window."
Aurora's jaw dropped—as clear an admission as if she'd spoken it aloud. "Are you sure the name Merlin is derived from the falcon and not the prophet? There seems to be nothing you don't know."
"I'm sure." Julian recaptured her fingers, pressing her palm to his lips. "Speaking of falcons, how is it you know of the merlin?"
"My great-grandfather raised falcons. Our library is filled with books about them. I never leave Pembourne, so I have endless hours to read. Why do you want to marry me?"
Her forthrightness was almost as bewitching as her beauty.
And her revelation supplied yet another piece of an ever-growing puzzle—one Julian was determined to solve.
"Why do I want to marry you?" he murmured truthfully. "Many reasons. This is one." He kissed the pulse at her wrist.
"Stop." She jerked her hand from his, clutching the folds of her lilac morning dress and tilting her head back to meet his gaze. "Your Grace…"
"Julian," he corrected.
"Julian. From what I know of you, you're a very independent man who spends his life sailing the world on one adventure or another. In addition, judging from that barmaid's reaction to you last night, I doubt you're ever at a loss for willing female companionship."
"I notice you haven't yet mentioned that I'm a Bencroft."
"I was getting to that. Your name—and mine—are the best reasons for us to stay as far apart as possible. So why are you here asking for my hand?"
Her spirit, her candor—she was the most innocently arousing woman he'd ever met, Julian decided. He captured a strand of her hair, rubbed its silky texture between his fingers, consciously aware of the fact that he couldn't seem to stop touching her. "Aside from the minor detail that we were discovered at the village tavern, in a private room, on a bed, and in each other's arms? Very well, Rory." Another grin. "Let's explore my reasons by employing that extraordinary honesty of yours. Can you tell me you didn't feel what I felt when we kissed?"
"Can you tell me you've never experienced that feeling before?"
"Yes. I can tell you I've never experienced that feeling before." Even as he uttered the words, Julian knew they were true.
Aurora searched his face, as if trying to assess his sincerity and his motives.
"Shall I be more specific?" Julian probed huskily. "Very well. I scarcely tasted your mouth and I burst into flames. I couldn't get enough of you—your taste, your scent, the feel of you in my arms. I lost all sense of reality to the point where the world ceased to exist other than you. I never even heard your brother's approach."
"Nor did I," Aurora confessed softly, her voice filled with wonder rather than embarrassment. "I felt everything you just described, and more. But, Your Gr… Julian, that's hardly a basis for a marriage."
"No, but it's a damned good start—especially since that kiss resulted in a scandal far more extensive than even you imagined when you walked into Dawlish's."
She sighed. "Yes—that. I'm too impulsive. 'Tis my worst fault—well, one of my worst faults."
"I'm looking forward to discovering the others." Julian's palm slid around to caress her nape. "Aurora, you're not a coward. Don't run from me. I'll give you everything you want—freedom, adventure, excitement…" He lowered his head, brushed her lips with his. "…Passion. I'll open the doors to a world you never knew existed. All you have to do is say yes."
Aurora drew back, clearly torn between desire and pragmatism. "We're virtual strangers."
"One word from you will change that."
She sucked in her breath. "Did Slayde actually agree to this? Scandal or not, the bitterness he feels for your family would preclude…" She broke free of Julian's touch, turned away.
"Go on," Julian urged, watching her spine stiffen, knowing at the same time that this was one issue that had to be addressed—for many reasons.
"'Tis nearly eleven years since my parents were murdered," Aurora stated. "I'm sure you know all the details—'twas hardly a secret. Slayde found them lying amid pools of blood in Pembourne's hallway. They'd been driven through by a sword. And for what? For possession of a diamond they'd never even seen, much less stashed away. A jewel the Bencrofts insisted we had." Her voice quavered, then strengthened again. "My poor implacable brother. He was already so intense, so damned autonomous. From that day on, those qualities magnified threefold as did his restlessness. He assumed the role of my guardian with a fervor that bordered on obsessive, sequestering me here at Pembourne amid a swarm of guards paid to ensure I never left the e
state, while Slayde traveled the world, returning to Pembourne as seldom as possible."
"That must have been very painful for you," Julian said quietly, visualizing a frightened little girl who'd just lost both her parents and had to mourn them all alone, without the comfort of a brother who had none to offer. "Very painful and very difficult."
"It was—all of it. Not just my parents' deaths, but the terror of knowing their murderer was still out there, as were others who would kill to unearth the black diamond. Worst of all was the loneliness. Oh, I understood Slayde's motivation, but that made my isolation no less bearable. Without Mr. Scollard, I think I would have lost my mind."