The Black Diamond (17 page)

"They've been untouched for years," Slayde reminded her. "I doubt there's anything in them but cobwebs and dust."

"Still, it's worth a try."

"I agree," Julian interrupted, coming to his feet. "So let's stop talking and begin searching. James must have left something of himself behind, just as Geoffrey did. In addition, if I'm right, if the clues leading to the black diamond are hidden at Pembourne and Morland, 'tis up to us to find them, combine them, and complete our great-grandfathers' mission."

"I'll begin in the library," Courtney offered. "First I'll collect all James's falcon books. Then I'll scrutinize them one by one." Seeing Aurora's stunned expression, she grinned, patting her abdomen. "No, Aurora, I haven't lost my adventurous spirit, only my agility. My attempts to cross the grounds would only slow you down and worry Slayde silly. 'Tis best that I remain here and take on a more sedentary job."

"Without question," Slayde concurred instantly. "Aurora, you accompany Courtney to the library. And don't let her do anything foolish.
You
climb the ladder and hand down the books. The two of you can read through them together. I, in the meantime, will go through and inspect every personal article Father bequeathed me when he died—just in the event James passed something down, something we inadvertently overlooked, given that we hadn't a notion of his true identity. Julian, before I get started I'll instruct Siebert to show you to the falcon cages. You're welcome to scour every inch of them for clues. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Julian nodded his assent.

Aurora bit her lip, torn between flagrant refusal and allegiance to Courtney. Hell and damnation, she didn't answer to Slayde anymore. Further, he knew bloody well she was itching to inspect those falcon cages—and equally averse to being cooped up in this blasted manor again. On the other hand, she understood the basis for her brother's command. Courtney would never be content being idle. Left alone she would scramble up the ladder to reach every one of those texts, jeopardizing her well-being even as she convinced herself that she and the babe would remain unharmed.

In the end there was no choice to make.

"Come, Courtney." Aurora gestured to her friend. "Let's get started."

Julian caught Aurora's arm as she passed. "I'll personally rush straight to the library and deliver any clues I might find," he vowed quietly.

Aurora's head came up.
He understands
, she realized in astonishment, seeing the approval—together with some profound, unnamed memory—flicker in his eyes.
He admires my decision.

It was that unnamed memory that captured her interest.

Studying Julian's enigmatic expression, Aurora had the oddest feeling that her husband's admiration stemmed from something personal, some firsthand experience … or relationship … that elicited the kind of loyalty he evidently respected. Could it also be responsible for the honor he so fervently pursued? And if so, who or what had inspired it?

Lord, she had so much to learn about this man, so much she
intended
to learn if they were going to have a real marriage. That notion almost made her smile, given that—by her own claim—she'd never expected to marry at all.

Mr. Scollard had been right all along—as usual.

"Soleil?"
Evidently Julian thought her silence implied skepticism. "I
will
let you know if I discover anything in the cages."

"T
hank
you," she said aloud. "I'll try to be patient. But waiting is something I'm not very good at."

"Ah, now
that
I know from firsthand experience," he stunned Aurora by muttering, his tone low and wicked, clearly meant for her ears alone. "And I promise,
soleil
—I'll try never to keep you waiting."

Before Aurora could respond—or even recover, for that matter—the teasing look on Julian's face had vanished and he was heading toward the door. "Let's find Siebert," he instructed Slayde.

Watching her husband's departure, Aurora pondered the astonishing transformation he seemed able to make so effortlessly. It was as if a flash of Julian emerged from the confines of Merlin's formidable presence, only to disappear as quickly as it had come.

Well, she relished a challenge as much as he did. And she'd just encountered the greatest challenge of all: Julian himself.

"You're disappointed," Courtney pronounced as Slayde followed Julian out the sitting-room door. "You were obviously yearning to explore those falcon cages. Aurora, I'm not a child. Go with Julian. I can collect books on my own."

"Absolutely not." Aurora gave an adamant shake of her head. "I have no intentions of letting you climb ladders or overtax your strength. Besides, that's not disappointment you're seeing; it's contemplation."

"Contemplation," Courtney repeated. "Over what—Julian?"

"Yes." A sigh. "My new husband is a very complex man."

"So I noticed." Courtney cleared her throat, her gaze fixed on Aurora. "Despite your craving for adventure, I know how terrified you are of the black diamond, how certain you are of its curse. I also realize Julian won't rest until he finds it, which places you right at the heart of this search—a reality that's doubtless as frightening as it is exhilarating. Yet, despite all this upheaval, you look radiant. May I assume the past few days yielded all I predicted they would?"

Aurora shot her friend a grin. "You may."

"You're happy then?"

"Ecstatic—at least when I'm in Julian's arms. Now, if only I could unlock his thoughts as easily as I unlock his passions…" She frowned. "Somehow I think that's going to be a significantly more difficult task."

"I'm sure it will be." Courtney's lips twitched. "Especially given that unlocking his passions probably required no more than a moment or two alone in his bedchamber."

"Bedchamber? We scarcely lasted beyond Pembourne's gates." Aurora flushed as she recalled her first moments of wedded bliss. "We consummated our marriage in Julian's carriage," she confessed in a confidential whisper. "Are you shocked?"

Laughter bubbled up in Courtney's throat. "By the Fox and the Falcon, yes. By you? Never." She squeezed Aurora's hands. "I can hardly wait to hear more. Unfortunately I'll have to exercise some patience. Dozens of books beckon us."

"Yes," Aurora agreed, staring off in the direction of the library. "As does the black diamond."

* * *

A half hour later, a stack of texts were strewn across the library's oriental rug and Aurora was sifting through the top and final shelf of books.

"Nothing," Courtney muttered from the settee. Readjusting the cushion behind her back, she tossed another book to the floor. "Other than some interesting margin notes on the differences between the peregrine and the merlin. I can't find a single item either within the text or penned by James that even remotely resembles a hidden message."

"I'll climb down and help you," Aurora replied, extracting two more thick volumes, cradling them against her as she descended the wooden ladder.

She'd scarcely righted herself when Julian strode through the doorway, anticipation rippling through his powerful frame.

"Julian—what is it?" Aurora demanded.

"This." Julian held out a somewhat rusted but visibly ornate key for her inspection. "I found it lying alongside the falcon cages."

"Is that significant?" Aurora examined the worn scrap of metal intently. "I assume it was once used to keep the falcons locked in their cages."

"It was. I tried the key. It fit the locks perfectly."

"Then…?"

"This key looks exactly like the one my solicitor presented to me, the one that opened Geoffrey's strongbox. It has the same short shaft, slender notches, and gilded trim. I'm on my way to Slayde's study to see just how identical the two keys are."

"You're thinking that Geoffrey made James a key so he could gain entry to the strongbox?" Courtney questioned.

"That, of course, is the logical assumption." Julian frowned, turning the key over in his palm. "But I've got an excellent memory for detail. And although the similarities are stark and unmistakable, I don't recall the original key's notches being quite so close together."

"There is another possibility," Aurora proposed, the notion exploding inside her like fireworks. "Perhaps James commissioned a matching strongbox of his own—
and
a key that presumably unlocked not only his falcon cages, but that opened his strongbox as well. If so, perhaps that strongbox contains information as vital as that which Geoffrey bequeathed Julian."

Julian's head shot up, his astonished gaze fixed on his wife. "My theory precisely."

"Don't look so astounded, Julian," Courtney advised him cheerfully. "Aurora has the quickest and most inventive mind I've ever encountered in a man or a woman. You'd best accustom yourself to that fact."

"It would seem so." Julian eyed his wife, looking not the least bit threatened by Courtney's pronouncement. "Do you know, Rory, with your daring and intelligence, 'tis a pity you've been confined to Pembourne all these years."

"For the world's sake, perhaps, but not for Merlin's," Aurora quipped back, her grin impish. "I'd make an extraordinary mercenary—and a formidable adversary. So feel relieved that marriage has rendered me an ally."

Julian laughed, a rich, husky sound that permeated the room like warm honey. "I do,
soleil
. Very relieved." His gaze fell on the key and his laughter faded. "Time to test our theory."

"I'm going with you," Aurora declared instantly.

"As am I." Slowly Courtney eased to her feet. "Although I'm a bit dubious about your suspicions. Had James possessed such a strongbox, Slayde would have known of its existence."

"If the box were among James's personal effects." Julian was halfway to the door. "If not, it could still exist—hidden. In which case it's up to us to determine its whereabouts."

Only three steps behind her husband, Aurora paused and cast a swift glance at Courtney. "Do you mind if I run on ahead?"

"Of course not." Courtney waved for her to do just that. "Oh, one question: who is Merlin? Other than a falcon, that is."

"A most extraordinary mercenary—the one I offered myself to at Dawlish's a fortnight ago," Aurora called over her shoulder. "I'll explain later. I don't want to miss anything."

With that she darted after Julian.

Slayde was already trying the key, Julian looming over him, when she burst into the study. "It doesn't fit," Slayde announced, extracting the key and holding it up beside the original. "You're right. The notches are different. As far as this second key fitting anything other than the falcon cages—more specifically, some hidden strongbox—wouldn't James have told someone if he had commissioned such a box? How else could he ensure that it fell into the right hands? He certainly couldn't assume someone would pass by our falcon cages and suspect the key used to unlock them would also unlock some unknown strongbox."

"Not unless the person passing by had already seen the key to Geoffrey's box and noticed a resemblance." Julian clasped his hands behind his back, his body taut with concentration. "Your solicitor," he asked abruptly. "Is it Henry Camden?"

Slowly Slayde lowered the keys to his desk. "Yes. It is."

"I thought as much. He's mine as well, and has been for years. In fact, his father George was retained by my great-grandfather—
and
yours, I suspect, given the nature of Geoffrey and James's partnership."

"That makes sense. And, yes, the Camdens have served us for generations. Both Henry and his father before him were outstanding solicitors—consistently trustworthy and competent."

"Very competent." A glint of speculation lit Julian's eyes. "And very trustworthy. Maybe trustworthy enough to endow with not one, but two strongboxes for safekeeping—Geoffrey's
and
James's."