"Who is Mr. Scollard?"
"The Windmouth lighthouse keeper—and my dearest friend. Other than Courtney, that is." Warmth flooded Aurora's tone. "Courtney's arrival in our lives changed everything. For Slayde and for me. She brought us love, constancy—she made us a family. She also effected a lull in the danger, publicly declaring that the black diamond was no longer in Huntley possession. Because of that brilliant tactic—added to the miracle of her love and now the child she's carrying—Slayde changed, softened, and finally relaxed his obsessive need to envelope me in a cocoon of safety." Aurora's hands balled into fists at her sides. "Until now, when his obsession was rekindled by your father's ravings, his blind accusations. It's all begun anew … the ransom notes, the threats, the attempted burglaries…"
Julian caught her shoulders, brought her gently around. "Aurora, we can put an end to all that."
"How?"
"Before I answer your question, let me say this. I know that for years Slayde believed my grandfather killed your parents. But as we now know, he was wrong. The murderer has been caught and punished."
"That can't undo a decade of torment. Chilton might not have committed the murders, but he and Lawrence stopped just shy of doing so. They spewed their venom in every way they could—in business, in public. Even in private, directly to my father's face the very month he died, swearing vengeance, vowing to make him pay for every setback your family had endured—setbacks Papa had no more caused than he'd caused your brother's death, although heaven knows, Lawrence proclaimed that to be a Huntley act as well. Nothing stopped the Bencrofts. Chilton and Lawrence dedicated their lives to undermining us. Worst of all, they invented and perpetuated the fallacy that we were hoarding the black diamond. And I've just described to you the results of that flagrant lie. So, no, Slayde will never forgive them. Neither will I."
"He'll never forgive them," Julian repeated, cupping Aurora's chin and raising it until she met his gaze. "Perhaps that's the answer to your question about why Slayde would permit you to marry me. Perhaps your very astute brother recognizes that I'm not my father or my grandfather. I'm very much my own person." A weighted pause. "I can't undo the past, Aurora. But I sure as hell can change the future. We both can. Whether we do is up to you."
Conflicting emotions again darted across her beautiful face.
"Marry me," Julian urged softly.
"Has Slayde already given his approval?"
"He's left the decision to you."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then he intends to call me out and shoot me."
That elicited an impish grin. "It would seem 'tis I who am rescuing you, Your Grace."
"Does that mean yes?"
Amusement faded, eclipsed by a contemplative look. "You alluded to the fact that we can alter things, amend the future. The 'many reasons' you have for wanting this marriage—honor and physical attraction notwithstanding—what are they?"
This was the moment of truth, the moment Julian had anticipated with equal measures of excitement and apprehension.
He hadn't a clue how Aurora would react. But he was about to find out.
"Let's sit down." Julian guided Aurora into a chair, then perched across from her on the edge of the desk. "I'm taking a risk sharing this information with you," he stated bluntly. "As of now, I'm the only one who's privy to it. But I'm willing to take that risk because I believe you'll be as intrigued by the truth as I am … and equally eager to act upon it."
Aurora's slender brows arched. "What truth?"
"First, you must promise not to repeat this to anyone."
"Julian—" She sounded amazed. "We met only last night. Why would you have faith in my promise?"
"Instinct."
"Have you forgotten I'm a Huntley?"
"Not for a moment."
"Nor can I forget you're a Bencroft."
"I'm counting on that."
Now she looked totally baffled. "I don't understand."
"Will you give me your word not to share what I tell you? It was meant for my knowledge alone—and now yours. If the details are revealed to the wrong person, if this situation is handled incorrectly, the future could become even bleaker than the past. But if it's approached the right way, we can undo so much damage, lift a sixty-year malediction from our shoulders … and transform rogues into heroes."
Aurora tensed. "This concerns the black diamond, doesn't it?"
"Your promise, Aurora."
"You have it." She leaned toward him, her eyes round as saucers. "Do you know where the diamond is?"
"Not yet. But I will. And before you ask, this has nothing to do with my father's investigation. This is an entity unto itself."
"Tell me."
"Have you ever heard of the Fox and the Falcon?"
Aurora's whole face lit up. "Of course! Some of Mr. Scollard's most wondrous legends center around them and all their daring exploits. Mr. Scollard is a visionary of sorts. He has the most extraordinary abilities, like bursts of insight into the past or future. Anyway, he's been sharing magical stories with me since I was a tot. And the mysterious Fox and the Falcon were among my favorites. The Fox—cunning, brilliant. The Falcon—precise, lethal. The fearless way they embraced danger, immersed themselves in exciting adventures. Such as the time they recaptured that enormous English brig from bloodthirsty pirates—calculating the ship's probable course, stealing aboard by night, overtaking the stunned blackguards before daybreak. Oh, and the time they embarked on that quest for the chest of jewels that had been smuggled from China to…" Aurora's brow furrowed.
"Ceylon," Julian supplied.
"Ceylon," Aurora breathed, staring at Julian in growing wonder. "So those stories are true. That's what you're saying, isn't it?" She scarcely paused, much less awaited an answer. "Of course they're true. Who better than you to know? You're an adventurer, just as they were. You've traveled the world, heard dozens of incredible tales—and you know the authentic ones from the fabrications. I told Slayde he was wrong; Mr. Scollard's yarns are far more than mere fairy tales. They are, aren't they?" This time she stopped, gazing at Julian like a hopeful puppy.
She wouldn't be disappointed. What he was about to divulge would send even Aurora's imagination soaring.
"Yes, Aurora, Mr. Scollard's yarns about the Fox and the Falcon are much more than fairy tales." Julian seized her hands in his, his fervent grip conveying the importance of his upcoming revelation. "His stories are accurate but incomplete. The Fox and the Falcon were indeed adventurers, but the purpose behind their various quests delved far deeper than a thirst for excitement. They were special agents retained by King George II from the year Seventeen Thirty-nine through the year Seventeen Fifty-eight to handle various delicate missions. They traveled abroad, restoring stolen treasures, rescuing English ships—the stories are limitless. They worked swiftly, brilliantly, and—as one would expect—anonymously, which is why no one ever learned the details of their dazzling exploits until now."
"Until now … and until you." Aurora's wonder was tempered by puzzlement. "How is it you discovered all these undisclosed facts? And, fascinated though I am, what have the Fox and the Falcon to do with the black diamond?"
"I'm getting to that. In Seventeen Fifty-eight the King ordered the Fox and the Falcon to go in search of the black diamond. Their objective was not to turn the stone over to the Russian prince who was offering a reward for its recovery, but to restore it to its rightful place in the sacred temple of India from which it was stolen centuries ago."
"That's very benevolent. But why would King George involve them in such a mission? The diamond's disappearance didn't impact England."
"Ah, but it did. Consider what was happening in India at the time. A year earlier, Britain had reestablished its supremacy in Bengal at the Battle of Plassey. Conflict was rampant. Rumors had sprung up among the natives that it was the English who had stolen the gem all those years ago and that until the diamond was restored, blood and death would rule Bengal."
"I see." Aurora nodded pensively. "Then for all our sakes, I wish the Fox and the Falcon hadn't failed in their mission."
"They didn't fail," Julian refuted, watching Aurora's forehead wrinkle in confusion. "At least not in finding what they sought. What they failed in was completing their assignment."
"I'm lost," Aurora pronounced. "I thought it was our great-grandfathers who found the black diamond."
"It was."
A heartbeat of silence.
Realization struck, sending Aurora bolting to her feet. "Julian, are you telling me…"
"I'm telling you that Geoffrey Bencroft and James Huntley were the Fox and the Falcon."
* * *
Chapter 4
« ^ »
With a shaken expression, Aurora sank back into her chair. "I think it's time you told me how—where—you uncovered this information."
"I fully intend to." Julian leaned forward, brushing a strand of burnished hair from her cheek. "As of today, I inherited my great-grandfather's journal, which explains everything I just told you—and more."
"But there were two generations of Bencrofts between you and Geoffrey! Why weren't your father or grandfather aware of the intrigue?"
"Because my great-grandfather didn't choose for them to be aware of it." Julian proceeded to explain the letter and the chest he'd been left, as well as what each contained.
"My God." Aurora shook her head, trying to assimilate all she'd just learned. "Then all these years … the hatred between our families, the bitterness, the accusations…"
"Could have been avoided," Julian finished. "The deception and animosity that we all thought destroyed our great-grandfathers' friendship never existed. Quite the opposite, in fact. Geoffrey and James were partners in the truest sense, bound by allegiance to each other and to England. Betrayal was out of the question."
"But then what went wrong?" Aurora demanded. "When they found the black diamond, why did my great-grandfather abandon yours and flee for England?"
"He didn't." Julian frowned, contemplating what he'd read in Geoffrey's final journal entry. "Before they left on their last mission, our great-grandfathers calculated the diamond's location to be high in the mountains of Tibet, where it had been hidden by a thief who never lived to reclaim it. Assuming that the specifics outlined in the journal unfolded as planned, the Fox and the Falcon sailed from England, adopting their customary roles as mercenaries in pursuit of great wealth and adventure. No one realized who they were, or that they were on the verge of finding and restoring the black diamond. Unfortunately they weren't the only ones combing the Himalayas. There were several other privateers headed there, too, equally intent on unearthing the stone and hell-bent on reaping the reward. According to the journal, the Fox and the Falcon had planned to swiftly uncover the stone, then throw the others off course by feigning failure. James was to take the diamond and head back to England—allegedly disgusted with his lack of success, actually intent on concealing the diamond until Geoffrey's return. Geoffrey, in the meantime, was to stay behind for a fortnight, pretending to search. But in reality, he was to assess the privateers—waiting until he convinced them that the stone had yet to be found before hastening home to England—at which time he and James would deliver the stone to King George."
"Geoffrey's cunning, James's precise tactics," Aurora murmured. "Remarkable—in more ways than one. Not only did their separate departures convince the others that the diamond had yet to be found, it also increased the Fox and the Falcon's chances for a successful escape. Anyone pursuing them would be forced to divide up and go after each man individually. After all, who had the stone—Geoffrey or James? Their plan was brilliant."
"As were they," Julian concurred.
"So my great-grandfather hid the stone, then fell to his death, dashed on the rocks at the foot of Dartmouth Cliffs." Aurora inclined her head. "Was he pushed?"
"That question will probably remain unanswered. Eventually word leaked out that James had absconded with the stone, brought it to Devonshire. But did someone kill him to get it?" A shrug. "We'll never know for sure."
"But we do know that Geoffrey died of a fever en route to England—and that with him died the last vestiges of the Fox and the Falcon." Aurora's expression grew quizzical. "Why didn't King George reveal the truth at that time, at least to our families? That would have explained so much, and avoided even more."
"First of all, I doubt that the King knew the diamond—or James—were even in England. If he did, he would have tracked James down and demanded he turn over the stone. But remember, the agreement between our great-grandfathers was that they go to the King together. So, I'm willing to bet that James told very few people he'd returned, and no one about the location of the black diamond. Less than a week later, he died. As for why the King didn't reveal the truth about the Fox and the Falcon after both had perished, my guess is that he was afraid to take the risk. Remember, the Fox and the Falcon hadn't managed to restore the gem, only to find it. If word of their mission were to have seeped out, it would have appeared to some as if England intended to keep the jewel—and the fortune it generated—for itself. Moreover, the King himself died less than two years later, precluding any possible change of heart time might have wrought."
"So the Fox and the Falcon became only a legend … until today."
"Exactly."
Aurora sat back, her expression more exhilarated than dazed. "This is all so incredible."
"The rest of the tales are equally incredible. Each and every one of the quests my great-grandfather described is a dazzling adventure unto itself. When you read that journal…"
"May I?" Aurora jumped in eagerly. "May I read the journal?"
Julian had been awaiting that particular request. "Hmm," he replied, taking his time, presumably entertaining the notion. "I don't know what to say. The journal was, after all, meant for my eyes and my eyes alone. To show it to a—what was the term you used? Ah—to a virtual stranger, would be a blatant violation of my great-grandfather's wishes." One brow arched in undisguised challenge. "On the other hand, if my wife were to come upon the journal by chance, if her curiosity were to overcome her self-restraint, compelling her to read the entries—then, that would be an accident of fate, would it not?"
Despite herself, Aurora began to laugh. "You, Julian, are a shameless rogue. Tell me, is there ever a time you don't get what you want?"
"Until now, no." Julian raised Aurora's chin with a determined forefinger, reminding himself why he was here and what he intended to accomplish. "In this instance only you can decide whether I get what I want. My unblemished record, Rory, is in your hands."
"Somehow I suspect your record is the only unblemished thing about you."
"You're evading my question."
"Actually I'm preparing to ask my own. Everything you just revealed to me about the Fox and the Falcon—how does it factor into your proposal? How will my becoming your wife ensure the success of whatever goal you hope to attain?"
"By reestablishing a partnership that was thwarted sixty years ago, and by seeing it through to fruition." Julian's tone grew fervent, all humor vanishing beneath the conviction that pulsed through his veins. "Think about it, Rory. By combining all the Huntley and Bencroft resources, including individual fragments of information left to each of us, we can fulfill our great-grandfathers' mission. As a result, we can restore dignity to their names, justify their cause, and end a sixty-year period of ostracism and hatred that should never have been."
"You intend to hunt for the black diamond."
"I intend to find it. Find it and restore it to its rightful place in India."
Aurora raised her chin a notch higher, studying Julian with uncanny insight. "This means a great deal to you, far more than another exciting adventure, and far more than honor. After all, you didn't even know your great-grandfather, and according to you, you had no use for either your father or your grandfather. Monetary gain certainly isn't a factor, not if you mean to turn o
ver the stone without reaping a reward. So what is this ardent resolution of yours based on?"
Julian sucked in his breath, taken aback by her perception. "I'm not sure which stuns me more, your audacity or your insight."
"My audacity, most likely," she supplied. "Slayde tells me it's uncommon and intolerable. Although at this particular moment, I believe it's my insight that is functioning more acutely. It tells me you're avoiding my question."
"Perhaps I am," Julian replied, memories of his father's taunting dare melding into images of Hugh—images that still had the power to make his chest constrict with the painful sense of loss. "There are some things I simply choose not to discuss. I assure you, however, my reasons aren't sinister, only personal."
"Very well, I'll ask a less personal question, then. Aren't you intimidated by the black diamond's curse?"