Authors: Andrea Kane
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #General
"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 estate, 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."
"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?"