The Black Diamond

  "Good evening, Siebert. It is I," Aurora announced.

  "I never doubted that for a moment, my lady," the butler returned dryly. "Who else would be breaking down the door at this hour of night?" He stepped aside to admit the two of them, nodding politely—if aloofly—at Julian. "The earl and countess are in the sitting room."

  "Thank you, Siebert."

  Aurora exploded into the sitting room like a cannon. "We found the…"

  "My God, what happened to you?" Slayde demanded, bolting to his feet and staring at his sister. "Were you in an accident?"

  "What?" Confused, Aurora followed Slayde's gaze, realizing for the first time what a sorry state she was in. "Oh. I must have torn my gown."

  "Torn your gown?" Slayde was still gaping. "Aurora, you're covered with dirt, your gown and mantle are shredded, and you have scratches all over your arms. What in the hell went on at Morland?"

  "Your ingenious sister figured out the location of this—that's what went on," Julian supplied, flourishing the strongbox as he entered the room.

  "It was at Morland Manor?" Courtney exclaimed, sitting upright on the sofa.

  "In a matter of speaking." Julian proceeded to fill them in, concluding by showing them the strongbox and its contents.

  "Well," Courtney murmured, shaking her head in amazement, "it appears we're going to have to pore over James's library yet again."

  "I'll begin tonight," Julian qualified at once. "Slayde, you're welcome to join me. But our wives are going to bed."

  Aurora's head shot up. "Not I," she protested. "Courtney needs her rest. But…"

  "Aurora—" Julian held up his palm, silencing her protest, his tone as unyielding as it had been in the inn when he'd demanded she let him speak with Stone in private. "You haven't eaten since breakfast. You're pale, covered in scratches, and swaying on your feet. In short, you're exhausted. There are hundreds of books in that library. It's doubtful Slayde and I will discover anything over the next few hours. If we do, I'll awaken you. I'm accustomed to this pace. You're not. So don't argue with me. Eat something, take a hot bath, and go to sleep."

  "Very well." Normally Aurora would have fought like a tigress. But if there was anything she wanted equally as much as she wanted to tear through those books, it was the chance to talk to Courtney. Further, Julian was right. She felt unusually weak and her head was pounding painfully—almost as if the effects of the day were descending upon her all at once. "I'll rest—for a while."

  She retired to her old room, where she ate two helpings of supper, soaked in a hot tub, then slipped into her nightrail and wrapper and padded down the hall to Courtney's bedchamber.

  Tentatively she knocked.

  "Come in."

  Aurora opened the door and poked her head inside. "'Tis only I."

  "I know. I've been expecting you." Courtney placed her brush on her dressing table, waving Aurora into the room. "Are you feeling better?"

  "Much. I guess I was hungrier than I realized."

  "And dirtier." Courtney grinned. "Have a seat."

  Aurora closed the door behind her, glancing about the chamber. "Are you expecting Slayde?"

  "Eventually. After he spends half the night in the library poring over books with Julian. In truth, I think he welcomed the opportunity. These days my poor husband prowls about quite a bit before bedtime, coming to my chambers only when he's very, very sleepy."

  A new understanding lit Aurora's eyes. "I would imagine this is a difficult time—for both of you."

  "Difficult, but worth it." Courtney lay her palm on her abdomen. "Besides, it will only be a few more weeks before our babe arrives. After which I intend to heal as quickly as I can—if for no other reason than to end Slayde's nighttime strolls."

  The two women laughed.

  "A month ago you would have scoffed at what I just said," Courtney noted aloud.

  "A month ago I was a child," Aurora replied, dropping into a chair. "A child and a fool. Courtney, I'm in a terrible predicament. I don't know what to do."

  "Is this about Julian?"

  "Yes, heaven help me."

  Courtney's delicate brows drew together. "He's not causing you unhappiness, is he?"

  "No. Well, yes. But not in the way you mean."

  Slowly Courtney sank onto the bed, regarding her friend with keen insight. "You're falling in love with him, aren't you?"

  To Aurora's horror, tears welled up in her eyes. "Yes," she managed. "And I can't seem to stop it from happening."

  "Why would you want to?"

  "Because it changes everything. Because adventure and excitement—even passion—are diversions, while love is profound, real. Because my emotions are in turmoil. I can't control them nor do I fully understand them." A pause. "And because Julian would hate the idea."

  "Ah. So that's what this is all about." Courtney skipped over the bulk of her friend's tirade and focused on her final statement. "You're worried about Julian's reaction when you declare your love."

  "You can't imagine how vehemently he's going to resist the whole idea."

  "Oh, can't I?" Courtney's eyes sparkled. "You, my dear friend, have a very short memory. Last spring, 'twas you who were counseling me about this very thing."

  "That was entirely different."

  "Really? How so?"

  "Because I knew Slayde was in love with you. So, for that matter, did he. He was just too much of a dolt to accept your love in return."

  "And Julian?"

  "Julian is a stubborn, self-contained loner who refuses to share his thoughts or his feelings, much less his heart."

  "That sounds remarkably like a description of Slayde when I met him." Courtney leaned forward and took Aurora's hands in hers. "I realize the two men are not exactly alike, nor are the circumstances that defined their lives. But they do share quite a few similarities—strong ones. Surely you've noticed."

  A morose nod. "I've noticed. Unfortunately all the traits they share are negative ones. They're like two immovable rocks. Only Julian, unlike Slayde, has no desire—or reason—to budge."

  "I'm sure Lawrence and Chilton had a lot to do with that fact." Courtney's expression grew thoughtful. "Remember, Slayde never had to endure the ostracism and rejection Julian did. I can't imagine that was easy."

  "It's more than Lawrence's renunciation that shaped Julian's outlook," Aurora replied quietly, giving voice to the conclusion she'd drawn after listening to Julian fervently, albeit reluctantly, discuss his brother. "Hugh's death had a lot to do with Julian's remoteness—perhaps more than Julian himself realizes. He and his brother were very close."

  "Hugh died quite young," Courtney murmured. "If I recall correctly, Slayde told me it happened his first year at Oxford. Are you saying that as a result of Julian's loss and the pain it incited, he cut himself off emotionally?"

  "Yes. But I think it goes far deeper than that." Aurora frowned. "Courtney, Hugh was sickly all his life. Julian spent much of his childhood coming to grips with the fact that there was nothing he could do to change the reality of his brother's frailty, that no matter how hard he prayed, he couldn't transfer his own vigor to Hugh. He felt helpless and guilty. I think there's a part of my husband that feels responsible for Hugh's death—not for causing it, but for being unable to prevent it. He's never been the same since Hugh died. I believe the reason for that is because, upon Hugh's death, Julian lost not only the sole person who mattered to him, but a piece of himself as well."

  "Poor Julian." Courtney's eyes softened with compassion. "No wonder he chose the path of an adventurer. 'Tis far easier to remain detached when you never stay still long enough to face others … or yourself."

  "Exactly. And he's managed to accomplish precisely that—up until now, that is. Coincident with Julian's homecoming, everything changed. He's been plunged into the heart of his past and his pain."

  "By whom?"

  "His father."

  "Lawrence?" Courtney gasped. "What impact could that monster possibly have on Julian's life n
ow? He's dead!"

  "But his cruelty is very much alive. He's blackmailing Julian into doing his bidding, using Julian's feelings for Hugh as bait." Aurora proceeded to explain the terms of Lawrence's will and their effect on her husband. "Julian is driven. He's fighting to redeem himself in a way that has nothing to do with his father's rejection and everything to do with his own sense of guilt and loss."

  "No wonder Julian is so consumed with finding that diamond," Courtney realized aloud.

  "And why, once he has, he'll resume his life as it was," Aurora added bleakly.

  "With one exception: now he has a wife. A wife he elected—no, fought—to marry, one with whom he'll doubtless prefer to roam the globe."

  "So long as all she demands of him is to share his adventures and his bed."

  "But not his love."

  "Exactly. You yourself just said he'll never stand still long enough to put down roots or—heaven help him—fall in love."

  "All the more reason why it's up to you to make him stand still long enough for that to happen."

  "What?" Aurora's head came up.

  "You heard me," Courtney stated flatly. "Aurora, you, better than anyone, know that winning Slayde over was a monumental challenge. He was determined for the Huntley name, along with that detestable curse, to die with him. To that end he swore off marriage and children. I was desperately in love with him and miserable at the prospect of our never having a life together. You're the one who told me to go after my future, because ultimately it was Slayde's future as well."

  "I did say that, didn't I?"

  "Um-hum. But advice, my friend, is easy to give. Carrying it out, especially when it means battling 'an immovable rock', is hard. Damned hard. I have no doubt you're up for the challenge. The question is, do you love Julian enough to seize it, to hang on until you conquer it?"

  "You ask arduous questions." Aurora massaged her temples. "But Lord help me, I think the answer is yes."

  "So do I." Courtney's lips curved. "Let's explore these emotions of yours. You once asked me what it felt like to be in love. Now 'tis my turn to ask you. Tell me how Julian makes you feel."

  "How Julian makes me feel?" Aurora sucked in her breath. "Like a storm-tossed sea. Like the branches on an oak when the wind sweeps through them. Like a waterfall plunging over the edge of a cliff and crashing to a swirling pool below. Like…"

  "All right, all right," Courtney interrupted, laughing. "I should have expected that."

  "It's nothing like the description you gave me."

  "Perhaps that's because love is different for each of us. For me it meant a sense of peace, belonging. For you it means exhilaration, adventure. Aurora, we both know you'd never be content with a serene and quiet life."

  "Nor do I seem destined to have one. Certainly not once I've conveyed my feelings to Julian."

  "You're so convinced he'll react badly?"

  "Aren't you?"

  "No. I think you're underestimating how much he cares for you. Oh, I don't expect he'll admit it; allowing himself the vulnerability of needing someone will doubtless seem an untenable prospect."

  "Untenable? He'll never permit it."

  "We don't always have control over our emotions."

  "Courtney, this is preposterous." Aurora sprang to her feet, pacing restlessly about the bedchamber. "Julian and I have been married less than a week. Prior to that we scarcely knew each other." She halted, pivoting about to face her friend. "How long did it take you to realize you were in love with Slayde?"

  "Less time than it's taken you to perceive your feelings for Julian. And remember, Slayde and I were truly strangers—in every way. You and Julian are married; you share an intimacy Slayde and I didn't experience right away."

  "That's passion, not love."

  "In your case it's passion coupled with the same emotional affinity Slayde and I shared. In truth, I can't imagine a more powerful combination. So time is not the issue here."

  "Perhaps not. But, Courtney, I'm not as selfless as you. I can't bear loving a man who can't—won't—return my love."

  "You won't have to," Courtney replied softly. "Trust me, Aurora. Julian is half in love with you already. I see it in his eyes when he gazes at you, in his voice when he boasts of your skill as an adventurer. Even in the protective way he looks out for your well-being. And his desire for you—well, that's self-evident. All the seeds are there. 'Tis up to you to make them grow. After that, both your lives will be transformed."

  Aurora was on the verge of disagreeing when Courtney's final statement sank in. "Odd," she commented aloud. "Mr. Scollard said almost those exact words when he spoke of my future with Julian."

  "Really?" Courtney jumped on her friend's revelation. "When was this?"

  "Right after Julian offered for me. I raced straight to the lighthouse to see Mr. Scollard. He, too, said that Julian and I would transform each other's lives—at the same time, incidentally, that he revealed the true story of the Fox and the Falcon—before I told it to him."

  "None of that should surprise you, knowing Mr. Scollard." Courtney dismissed Aurora's disclosure with a wave of her hand. "What else did Mr. Scollard say about you and Julian?"

  "He cautioned me that the merlin was deceptive, sometimes in ways even he himself doesn't comprehend. And he heralded love as the strongest and most wondrous of forces, with the exception of fate."

  "Excellent! As always, Mr. Scollard is a genius," Courtney exclaimed. "Further, I concur with his opinion exactly. It gives me all the more confidence in the advice I'm about to dispense."

  "Which is?"

  "Don't wait to tell Julian you love him. When the next opportunity arises, tell him."

  "Immediately?" Aurora's jaw dropped.

  "Yes. For many reasons. First, you're far too forthright to restrain yourself. Second, despite your concern to the contrary, Julian is far too arrogant to reject your declaration. He might even savor it. Either way he'll need time to adjust, to face his own feelings and come to grips with the inevitable. Believe me, it will be far easier for him to lower his walls if he's certain your love awaits on the other side."

  "And how do I convince him of that?"

  "That, my dear friend, is something only you can decide and only you can accomplish. But somehow I think you'll manage quite well."

  "You're serious." Aurora's heart was pounding like a drum.

  "Absolutely."

  "Courtney, what if he…?"

  "He won't."

  "I have to think about this." Aurora resumed pacing. "I never imagined a man could have so much power over me. Ironic, isn't it? I just secured my freedom and now I'm bound in a more fundamental way than I was before."

  "But this time it's by choice."

  "Or by fate," Aurora amended, considering Mr. Scollard's words.

  "Yes, fate." Courtney leaned contentedly back against the pillow, regarding her friend with a smug grin. "I suspect fate has wondrous plans for you."

  "If you say so."

  "Do you doubt Mr. Scollard and me?"

  Aurora rolled her eyes. "All right," she decided. "I'll tell him. Heaven help me, I'll tell him."

  * * *

  Chapter 10

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  Dawn's pale rays awakened her.

  Rolling onto her back, Aurora blinked, opening her eyes to stare up at the familiar ceiling, wondering why she felt so out of sorts awakening in her own bedchamber.

  The answer spilled forth like the sunlight. Julian wasn't beside her.

  Propping herself on her elbows, Aurora scanned the room, confirming that her husband indeed was not there. She'd waited up half the night for him until her aching body and heavy eyelids won out and sleep had claimed her.

  Perhaps that had been for the best.

  She was still reeling from her conversation with Courtney, or rather, from its outcome. She'd expected many things from her friend: compassion, understanding, profound discussion. All of which she'd gotten in abundance. What she hadn't expected was the s
heer impulsiveness of Courtney's response. It was she who was the reckless one, the one who rushed impetuously into situations. Courtney was calmer, more rational, capable of weighing all the ramifications before acting. And yet, just when Aurora was facing the most overwhelming of challenges, when she'd somehow found the sensibility to restrain herself from blurting out her feelings to Julian, Courtney had urged her to do precisely that.