Andrea Kane (20 page)

“I suppose not.”

“Did the two of you argue?” Aurora pressed.

“Not really, no. An argument would have been welcome compared to the discussion we had.”

“What kind of discussion?” Seeing Courtney shift uncomfortably in her chair, Aurora added, “I realize I’m prying. But I can’t very well help you overcome the obstacles if I don’t know what those obstacles are.”

Courtney sighed, laying her father’s timepiece on the table. “The only obstacle I see is also the most difficult to surmount: Slayde himself.”

“Are you in love with him?”

A faint smile. “Didn’t you already put that question to me?”

“No. The question I put to you was ‘Do you care for him?’ To which you replied, ‘Yes,’ Now I’m asking something more. Are you in love with my brother?”

“Yes,” Courtney heard herself whisper, startling as the fervent affirmation left her lips.
’Tis true,
she thought, the realization flooding her heart.
The very answer I’ve sought has found me
—
just as Papa predicted.
“Unbearably so,” she added softly.

“Are you sure?”

“Extremely sure.”

Aurora looked fascinated. “I’ve never been in love.”

“Nor I.”

“Then how can you be so certain? And in so brief a time?”

Courtney’s lips curved. “A very intelligent friend of mine once said, ‘One needn’t touch a flame in order to know it burns.’ ”

“Ah. A wise friend indeed.” Aurora’s eyes sparkled. “Very well, in light of your answer, we must bring Slayde around without delay.”

All humor vanished from Courtney’s face. “You have no idea how formidable a task that promises to be.”

“Don’t underestimate my brother’s feelings for you, Courtney. I believe he’s equally as smitten as you. Which, for a man like Slayde—one who’s accustomed to depending only upon himself—is akin to drowning.”

“ ’Tis more than Slayde’s emotional independence at stake,” Courtney revealed. “It’s…” She paused, weighing her words carefully. She’d vowed to Slayde not to divulge the truth about his fraudulent diamond, and she intended to keep that vow. “He fears for my safety. Not only my safety but the safety of anyone he cares for. He’s sworn to preclude any potential danger by forsaking any future ties.”

Aurora frowned. “The black diamond is gone from our lives, along with its horrifying curse. I gather, therefore, that what you’re telling me has something to do with the Bencrofts and Slayde’s belief that they’re determined to punish us and forever exact their revenge.”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Slayde doesn’t believe the curse lies with the diamond, but with the men who vie for it. Most especially, with the Bencrofts, whose hatred he’s convinced will never be extinguished. You of all people know how staunchly he believes that. ’Tis why he’s so watchful of you and your whereabouts. Well, his protective convictions go far deeper than that.” Courtney met Aurora’s questioning gaze. “To put it bluntly, Slayde refuses to carry on the Huntley name, either through marriage or by siring a child. He’s determined to let the hatred die with him.”

Aurora sat bolt upright. “He told you this? That he intends never to marry or father children?”

“Yes.”

To Courtney’s amazement, Aurora clapped her hands together in glee. “This is even more wonderful than I thought.”

“Aurora, did you hear what I just said?”

“Of course I did. The question is, did you?”

“Did I what?” Courtney was beginning to think she’d lost her mind.

“Did you hear what you just said—or rather, implied?” With an impatient shake of her head, Aurora rushed on. “No, evidently you didn’t, or you wouldn’t look so morose. Courtney, why would Slayde be telling you something so pointed, so intimate, if he weren’t falling in love with you? The answer is, he wouldn’t.” She jumped to her feet, nearly dancing about in joyful anticipation. “This task is going to be easier than I thought.”

“The man intends never to marry or sire children,” Courtney repeated—for her own sake as well as Aurora’s. “You don’t find that a bit daunting?”

A shrug. “Not particularly. It doesn’t surprise me; as you yourself just said, I know how certain my brother is that the Bencrofts orchestrated every tragedy the Huntleys have ever endured. Also, given Slayde’s propensity for solitude, I suspect he never envisioned needing anyone, much less loving her, enough to alter his decision. But all that’s changed now. He’s in love. He’s vulnerable.”

“And he’s going to fight it every inch of the way,” Courtney reminded her.

“Indeed.” Aurora’s face lit up. “But then it wouldn’t be a challenge if he didn’t, now would it?”

Unbidden laughter bubbled up inside Courtney. “You’re astonishing.”

“Nothing like Slayde, am I?” Aurora quipped back.

Sobering, Courtney refuted her friend’s statement. “To the contrary, you’re a great deal more alike than I originally surmised. You’re both strong-willed, loyal, and stubborn, with enormous hearts and brilliant minds. The difference is in the way you express those traits, not in your intrinsic characters.”

“I don’t understand my brother,” Aurora said frankly. “And he understands me even less.”

“I realize that,” Courtney murmured.
I also intend to change it,
she vowed silently.
’Twill be my special gift to you both; perhaps the only one I can offer to sufficiently thank you for what you’ve given me.

“In any case, each of our tasks is clear,” Aurora concluded. “You must seize every opportunity and use it to make Slayde see the truth: that his love for you is far more pivotal than any foolish vow he made to himself before the two of you met. And that together you can overcome anything, even the Bencrofts.”

“Only that?” Courtney teased. “Tell me, is your task equally as simple?”

“Not simple, but creative. ’Tis my job to ensure that you have innumerable opportunities to do your job.”

“Ah. Need I remind you that Slayde is a skilled and seasoned loner who’s adamant about remaining so?”

“No, you needn’t.” Aurora’s grin was impish. “ ’Twould seem, my friend, that two novices are about to undo one expert.”

“Very well, Miss Johnston.” Oridge scribbled down a few additional notes, then raised his head and leveled his keen investigator’s gaze on Courtney. “We’ve gone over all the events you can recall from the time this Armon seized the
Isobel
to the time Lord Pembourne rescued you from the channel. You’ve given me detailed descriptions of the pirates who accompanied Armon onto your ship. And you’ve provided me with a list of names of the entire crew of the
Isobel.”

“That’s correct, sir.” Courtney massaged her temples, wishing the throbbing in her head would subside. Then again, how could she expect that it would? After all, she and Mr. Oridge had been ensconced in the library for what seemed like an eternity, hashing and rehashing the events that had brought her to Pembourne.

Inadvertently, her gaze wandered to the library’s grandfather clock. Half after three. With the exception of a thirty-minute meal in the adjoining salon and one much-needed hour-long nap in her chambers, she’d been seated on the sofa since nine o’clock this morning, reliving the most harrowing experience of her life. She felt utterly drained and physically spent. And her concussion had little to do with it.

“Are you all right, Miss Johnston?”

Her head jerked around and, seeing the genuine concern on the investigator’s face, she felt a stab of guilt. “Forgive me, Mr. Oridge. Yes, I’m fine.”

“No apology is necessary.” He closed his portfolio. “I realize how difficult this must be for you—in more ways than one.” He cleared his throat, speaking in a low, reassuring tone. “Answering countless questions is exhausting. Far more exhausting, in fact, than asking them.”

Courtney gave him a weak smile, grateful for his attempt to put her at ease. “I have little patience for these lingering injuries of mine. If only my strength were back, I’d go after the
Fortune
myself.”

“Then how fortunate your strength hasn’t cooperated,” Oridge returned curtly, all semblance of compassion having vanished. Leaning forward, he gripped his knees, an intense expression on his face. “Miss Johnston, I’m going to be blunt. Traversing the ocean as a sea captain’s daughter does not make you a seasoned navigator. You might think you know a great deal about ships. Trust me, you don’t. Not when it comes to dangerous matters like pursuing a pirate ship
and
dealing with the pirates once you’ve found them. So if you have any heroic notions of striking out on your own, forget them. I’m good at what I do. If Armon’s ship can be found, I’ll find it. And you’ll stay alive in the process. Am I making myself clear?”

“Perfectly clear.”

“Good. Then I have only one more question for you. What kind of cargo was the
Isobel
carrying?”

“If you’re asking if our cargo was valuable enough to pilfer, the answer is yes. We transported furniture and other manufactured goods to the Colonies.”

“Furniture? Unlikely,” Oridge muttered. “Other goods…such as what?”

“Pardon me?”

“Was there anything on board your ship that would bring a nice sum but was less cumbersome to transfer than furniture?”

“Why, yes.” Courtney had no idea what avenue Oridge was pursuing, but she followed nonetheless. “I wasn’t privy to a full list of our cargo, but I do recall there were silver pieces, vases, and several expensive wooden clocks aboard. Are those the type of things you mean?”

“Those are exactly the things I mean.” Oridge came to his feet. “Thank you, Miss Johnston, you’ve been a great help. I suggest you go to your chambers now and rest.”

Courtney rose as swiftly as he. “What is it I helped you with? What prospect are you entertaining?”

“As I said, you’re pale and weary.” He crossed over, pulled open the library door and gestured for her to pass. “I’m sure the earl will fill you in on whatever you need to know.”

Slowly, Courtney walked toward him, halting only when she’d reached the open doorway. “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you, Mr. Oridge?”

“No, Miss Johnston, I’m not.”

She nodded, frustration screaming along every nerve ending in her body. “I don’t like your answer. But I respect it. The earl is your employer. Any conclusions you reach, you must first discuss with him.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” Oridge said with businesslike formality.

“You’re welcome.” Courtney stepped into the hallway, feeling baffled and weary and far too stimulated to rest. Until Slayde returned to answer her questions, she feared sleep was out of the question.

“Pardon me, Miss Johnston.”

Courtney turned to see Siebert standing a few feet away. “Yes?”

“Lady Aurora asked me to give you a message when you’d finished speaking with Mr. Oridge. Which I presume you have?” Receiving Courtney’s confirming nod, he continued. “She asked if you’d join her and the viscountess in the yellow salon. That is, if you’re not too fatigued. Lady Aurora did specify that she’d understand if you preferred to retire to your chambers.” The tone of Siebert’s voice clearly stated that Lady Aurora would understand no such thing.

With a glimmer of humor, Courtney replied, “Thank you, Siebert. I’ll join them at once.”

Recalling the location of the yellow salon, she made her way there, knocking politely before entering.

“Come in,” Aurora called out. Her eyes brightened when she saw who her visitor was. “Oh, Courtney!” She jumped to her feet. “I’m so glad you’re able to join us. At long last, I can introduce you to Elinore.”

The elegant woman seated alongside Aurora rose, a smile of welcome on her face. “Miss Johnston, I’m delighted. Aurora has spoken of you with such enthusiasm.”

“As she has of you,” Courtney reciprocated, feeling suddenly shy. Lady Stanwyk was not at all the plump, gray-haired, motherly figure she’d expected. She was exquisite: all rose-colored silk and glittering jewels, her dark hair upswept and curled just so, her demeanor polished, regal.

“Please, dear, sit down and have some tea.” Evidently, the viscountess sensed her unease, for she beckoned Courtney in, pouring a cup of tea and offering it to her along with a plate of scones. “Aurora has been filling me in on the past week’s dreadful events. Please accept my condolences. Your loss must be very painful. Not to mention how difficult today must have been, between answering endless questions and reliving your harrowing experience. I appreciate the fact that you were kind enough to join us when I’m sure you’d much rather be abed.”

“I…thank you.” Courtney accepted the proffered refreshment, lowering herself gratefully to the settee. Beneath Lady Stanwyk’s warmth and compassion, she could feel her shyness wane. “Actually, I’m glad for the company. When Siebert found me, I was contemplating what to do, given that I felt too drained to do much of anything, yet far too awake to lie down. Tea and pleasant conversation are precisely what I need.”

“Perfect,” Aurora proclaimed. “Because tea and pleasant conversation are precisely what Elinore and I are indulging in.” Helping herself to another scone, she sat down beside Courtney. “Elinore received my missive. She was generous enough, as always, to respond immediately.”

“I had no idea what was transpiring at Pembourne, else I would have been here sooner.” The viscountess resettled herself and took up her cup, sipping her tea gracefully. “I’m still having trouble digesting all this. When Slayde said he’d received ransom notes during your absence, I had no idea he meant anything of this magnitude.”

“Why would you?” Aurora turned to Courtney. “We get threatening letters on a steady basis. Or rather, we
did,”
she corrected herself, relief evident in her every word. “Because of that wretched black diamond. Thank God it’s gone.”

Courtney felt a stab of guilt, one she firmly squelched by reminding herself that Slayde’s deception had been effected with Aurora’s well-being in mind. “I can understand your feelings.”

“And
I
can understand why that dreadful pirate chose your father’s ship to attack,” Elinore put in, studying Courtney before glancing briefly at Aurora. “There is a striking resemblance between the two of you. A cursory one, to be sure. But more than enough to fool Slayde on a dark night at sea. The poor man must have been beside himself. No wonder he was so irate when we arrived home from London.”