Andrea Kane (34 page)

“Well, your news will have to wait. I’ve been exploding since yesterday, when this happened.”

“Happened?” Slayde cocked a wary brow. “Aurora, you didn’t try to leave Pembourne, did you?”

“No, Slayde.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been here every minute. But, as of yesterday, I’ve had company.”

“Company?” Slayde stiffened, as did Oridge. “Who?”

“Come see.” Aurora tugged Courtney’s hands, drawing her into the house, toward the sitting room.

Slayde cast a swift, pointed look at Siebert, who shook his head. “No, sir,” he said quietly. “Nothing on the missives yet. Although I do believe the current surprise will lift Miss Johnston’s spirits somewhat. Also, my lord, I thought you and Mr. Oridge would want to know that you had your own surprise visitor yesterday morning.”

“Really? Who?”

“The Duke of Morland.”

Courtney halted in her tracks, whirling about to listen.

“Morland?” Slayde repeated in amazement. “He came here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did he want, Siebert?” Oridge asked.

“I’m not quite sure. He was seething with rage, spouting something about how Lord Pembourne had stolen from him again, wrested away his future. I couldn’t make out all of it. The man was thoroughly foxed. But I did assure him I’d impart word of his visit.”

“And so you have.”

“Slayde, the duke was drunk,” Aurora interrupted impatiently. “I listened to every word from the second floor landing, hoping he’d say something revealing. He didn’t. His accusations were wild and incoherent, precisely as Siebert just told you. So let’s discuss him later. Right now, I want to bring Courtney to our guest.”

“Indeed, sir.” Siebert surprised Slayde by concurring. “Lady Aurora is quite right. The duke’s ramblings were vague, at best. And I do think you’d enjoy accompanying Miss Johnston to the sitting room. Mr. Oridge can remain with me at my post; I’d be happy to supply him with any pertinent details. You can join us in a few minutes. How would that be?”

With a puzzled expression, Slayde complied. “All right. I’ll be back shortly.”

He followed Aurora, who’d already dragged Courtney halfway down the hall.

“This guest actually came to see you,” Aurora was explaining. “But he and I have become splendid friends in the interim.”

“He?” Slayde demanded.

Aurora grinned at Slayde over her shoulder. “Yes—
he.”
She flung open the door to the sitting room. “Courtney, greet your guest.”

A joyful gasp escaped Courtney’s mouth. “Lexley!” She bounded across the room to the settee, hugging the stout man who had struggled weakly to his feet.

“Courtney.” He clasped her to him, tears glistening in his eyes. “Thank God.”

“Those were to be my words,” she said, guiding him back to his seat, carefully scrutinizing him as she lowered herself beside him. “Although somehow I knew Mr. Oridge wouldn’t disappoint me.”

“Oridge—as I hear it, he’s the man I owe my life to.”

“Yes. He’s the investigator who sent those exceptional navigators I presume rescued you from Raven Island. Mr. Oridge works for Lord Pembourne, who hired him to find Armon’s ship. Armon is—was—that horrible pirate who captured the
Isobel,
in case you didn’t know his name. Which you probably did, given you spent more time topside than I did. Either way, he’s dead now. He was killed by whoever paid him to steal the black diamond.” Courtney paused to catch her breath. “Have I thoroughly confused you?”

A hint of a smile. “No. But not for want of trying. It’s just lucky that Lady Aurora explained most of this to me while we waited for you and Lord Pembourne to return from London. The rest I knew from Booth.”

“Booth?”

Lexley’s smile widened. “He’s the head of those exceptional navigators you just mentioned.” Glancing toward the door, Lexley’s gaze found and recognized Slayde. “M’lord,” he said humbly, “I don’t know how to express my gratitude. When Courtney fell from my shoulder and was swallowed up by the Channel, I begged you to save her. Somehow I knew you would. At the time, I had no idea that I, too, would benefit from your kindness and bravery. I thank you for my life. But, more importantly, I thank you for Courtney’s.”

“No thanks are necessary.” Slayde walked over, perched on the arm of a chair. “Are you well?”

“I’m weak but unharmed.” A chuckle. “Lady Aurora has taken excellent care of me. Why, I’ve even been promised a visit to the Windmouth Lighthouse to meet this extraordinary fellow Scollard.”

“We could have gone today—Mr. Lexley is much stronger than he was yesterday,” Aurora inserted. “But since I wasn’t allowed to leave the mansion…”

Slayde shot her a look. “Tell me about the rescue,” he urged Lexley. “And about the other crewmen who were abandoned with you. Did they all survive?”

“Each and every one of us,” Lexley answered proudly. “Oh, we didn’t eat much, and at night it got pretty cold. But our prayers kept us going. Prayers are the one thing that bloody pirate couldn’t take from us. And look how well they worked. He’s dead and we’re home.”

“Where are the others now?”

“By this time? With their families. Booth arranged everything. I told him I had no family, and he said he had instructions to bring me to Pembourne Manor.”

“Oridge,” Courtney murmured aloud. “He must have provided those instructions. What a kind gesture.”

“Booth and his men were astounding,” Lexley continued. “They navigated those waters as if the rocks and currents didn’t exist. They got us off on longboats, all nine of us. They brought us food, water, and bandages—some of which they gave us right there in the longboats. The rest they administered aboard their fishing boat. Then they supplied us with enough ale to make us forget any aches and pains we might have. We slept most of the way to Cornwall. Three carriages were waiting there to take the men to their homes—no matter how far away they lived. One of those carriages brought me here.” Lexley stared at a spot on the carpet. “I wish I’d had something to give Booth and his men, payment of some kind…”

“They’ll be compensated,” Slayde assured him. “I’ll see to it at once.”

Lexley looked up. “I’ll repay you down to the last shilling. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“Your safety is payment enough.”

Pride and gratitude warred on Lexley’s face. “I’m not good at taking charity, m’lord. I work for my money.”

“Fine. We’ll discuss that when you’re stronger.”

“I’m almost myself. Which reminds me, I won’t impose on your hospitality after today. First thing tomorrow, I’ll be on my way. I just needed to see for myself that Courtney was all right. Although Lady Aurora did a fine job of assuring me she was.”

“I’m sure you’re eager to resume your life,” Slayde responded smoothly. “But if it isn’t too much trouble, I’d appreciate your postponing your departure, merely for a week or two. Courtney is still somewhat out of sorts, as you can imagine. You, of all people, know the full extent of what she endured—” Slayde shot Lexley a meaningful look, the name
Arthur Johnston
hanging between them as clearly as if it had been spoken. “I’m sure it would ease her distress to have a long-standing friend nearby. Surely you can understand what I’m saying?”

Bowing his head, Lexley nodded. “Yes, sir. I can well understand.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.” Slayde turned to Aurora. “What bedchamber did you give Lexley?”

“I had Miss Payne make up the blue room.”

“Splendid.” Slayde stunned Aurora by giving her an approving wink before refocusing his attention on Lexley. “Is the room to your liking?”

The elderly sailor stared. “To my liking? I’ve never seen such elegant quarters in my life.”

“Good. Then you won’t mind keeping them for a while?”

Lexley swallowed. “No, m’lord. I won’t mind.”

Slayde rose. “I’ll leave you and Courtney to catch up. I must speak with Siebert. Aurora?” He gestured for his sister to accompany him.

Aurora’s face fell.

“Unless you object, m’lord,” Lexley interceded, “I’d be honored if Lady Aurora would agree to stay. She’s awaited this reunion nearly as eagerly as I have.”

A corner of Slayde’s mouth lifted. “Very well,” he agreed, heading toward the door. “I’ll return shortly, with Oridge. He’ll want to meet and talk with you.”

Courtney squeezed Lexley’s arm. “I’ll be right back.” She scurried after Slayde, catching up to him in the hall. “Slayde?”

He waited, his expression tender. “Hmm?”

Without the slightest hesitation, Courtney rose on tiptoe, wrapped her arms about Slayde’s neck, and tugged his mouth down to hers, kissing him soundly. “I just fell in love with you all over again,” she whispered. With a radiant smile, she darted back into the sitting room.

Slayde stared after her, myriad emotions crossing his face.

Then, he resumed his walk to the entranceway, his pace and path the same as it had been countless times before.

Except this time he was whistling.

“He said nothing else?”

Pacing about the marble floor, Slayde digested everything Siebert had relayed about Morland’s visit.

“No, sir. He just kept repeating himself, alternately demanding to see you and lambasting you for destroying his life, stealing from him yet again, and thus annihilating his future. He reeked of liquor, so deep in his cups he could scarcely stand upright.”

“Obviously, he saw the letter and ransom notes printed in the
Times,”
Oridge commented, carefully saying only that which was public knowledge.

“My thought exactly, sir,” Siebert agreed. “The duke obviously believes Lord Pembourne’s trading the diamond for Lady Aurora’s life was akin to stealing it from the Bencrofts yet again.”

Slayde halted, his gaze meeting Oridge’s, each of them having the same thought.

Siebert’s assessment
would
have made excellent sense, if Morland was not the person now in possession of the diamond.

But if Slayde’s theory was correct and Morland was the criminal they sought, his fury could have been ignited only by the realization that the publication of the letter and ransom notes would thwart his attempts to restore the jewel and reap its profit.

Which made yesterday’s diatribe totally baffling.

Oridge had prepared Slayde for Morland’s rage. But the kind of rage they’d both expected had been the kind that incites murder, not childish tantrums. After all, he’d allegedly killed Armon and, just days ago, attempted to shoot Courtney down in cold blood.

That prompted another thought. If Morland was the person who’d followed them to Somerset, aware of the fact that they were en route to London, why had he driven to Pembourne yesterday, presumably to vent his rage at Slayde, knowing damned well Slayde wasn’t there?

Was it all a ruse to divert suspicion from himself?

Was he clever enough to devise such a complex plan?

If he was sober, maybe.

But if he was as drunk as Siebert said? Never.

“You’re sure Morland was foxed?” Slayde demanded. “He couldn’t have been feigning it?”

Siebert’s brows rose. “Not unless he’s the finest actor in all of England. The stench of liquor came from his breath, not his person, which it would have, had he doused his clothing for effect. Moreover, his eyes were glazed, his speech slurred, and his balance severely impaired. No, sir, there’s not the slightest doubt—the duke was totally, utterly soused.”

“I see.” Slayde frowned. Siebert wasn’t prone to exaggeration. And if Bencroft was as deep in his cups as the butler implied, he’d be alert enough to devise nothing.

Unless, of course, Siebert was lying.

The very thought made Slayde’s blood run cold. On its heels came a jolt of self-disgust and an explosion of denial. No. Absolutely not. He didn’t care how emphatically Oridge had cautioned him. There were certain members of his staff whose loyalty he refused to question. Siebert was one. He’d been with the Huntleys since before Slayde was born, overseen Pembourne with unfailing pride, discipline, and principles, demonstrating nothing but honesty and dedication for nearly four decades.

If Siebert said Morland was drunk, then drunk he was.

With a muttered oath, Slayde resumed pacing.

“Oh, and one other thing, sir,” Siebert added, oblivious to Slayde’s inner turmoil. “Mr. Rayburn was at Pembourne, as well. He followed the duke from Morland.”

“Of course—Rayburn!” Slayde exclaimed. “I completely forgot. Did he stay hidden? Or was Morland aware of his presence?”

“His Grace was
aware
of nothing.” Siebert sniffed. “That fact notwithstanding, he was restricted to the doorway, his back facing the grounds, and Mr. Rayburn, throughout his tirade.
I
spied Rayburn because he intended me to. He gestured to me from the shrubs, alerting me to his presence lest I need assistance. Needless to say, I didn’t. Given the duke’s wretched physical state, I was able to escort him to his carriage within minutes and without the aid of so much as a footman.”

“I’ve got to ride to Morland.” Slayde’s frown deepened. “Not only to meet with Rayburn, but to hear firsthand what Bencroft has to say. However, I won’t leave Courtney unguarded.”

“Sir?” Siebert inclined his head quizzically. “Is Miss Johnston in danger?”

Feeling Oridge’s warning look, Slayde answered, “Siebert, you of all people know my contempt for Lawrence Bencroft. I didn’t trust the bastard while he was locked away in his fortress. Now, he’s invading my home, evidently provoked by what he read in the
Times,
and drunk to boot. What if he returns and makes another scene? Or worse, what if he becomes violent? I don’t know what he’s capable of—and neither do you. I refuse to take that risk, either with Courtney’s safety or Aurora’s.” A quick glance at Oridge. “If I leave Pembourne for several hours later today, would you stand vigil for me?”

“Of course, my lord. I’ll use that time to speak with Lexley—since I’m certain Miss Johnston will be glued to his side.”

“She will indeed. Incidentally, thank you for having him brought here. I can’t tell you what seeing him meant to Courtney. Especially in light of losing her father.” With those words, Slayde’s gaze darted back to Siebert. “You’re sure we received no responses to my missives?”