Andrea Kane (4 page)

A corner of Slayde’s mouth lifted. “I agree.”

“ ’Tis also stronger. It works faster and disguises the bad flavor of medicine. Next time, I’d like my laud…laudan…”

“I’ll make certain all your subsequent doses are served in goblets of brandy.”

Her lashes drifted to her cheeks. “I’d like that.”

She was asleep.

Silently, Slayde stared down at his patient, oddly moved and more than a bit unsettled.

He had time to contemplate neither.

“Lord Pembourne!” Matilda burst into the room, her eyes wide as saucers. “Come quickly!”

Whipping about, Slayde stared at the white-faced maid. “What in God’s name is it?”

“It’s Lady Aurora! She’s home!”

S
LAYDE SWOOPED DOWN THE
staircase like a hawk.

“Aurora.” Taking the hallway in a dozen long strides, he reached the entranceway door, seizing his sister’s shoulders in a grip so punishing, she winced. “Are you all right?”

Indignant turquoise eyes gazed up at him. “Of course I am. Slayde, have you lost your mind?”

He blinked. “Evidently so.” Slowly, he released her, his baffled gaze sweeping her from her head to toe and finding her thoroughly intact. “You weren’t harmed?”

“Harmed? Certainly not. As promised, the viscountess chaperoned me everywhere.” Tucking a wisp of red-gold hair behind her ear, Aurora indicated her companion. “Honestly, Slayde, it’s not like you to become so emotional.”

Slayde’s gaze shifted from his sister to the elegant, utterly stupefied woman beside her. “Elinore?”

“Hello, Slayde,” Lady Stanwyk said. Uneasily, she assessed the tension between brother and sister, her fingers idly stroking the glittering diamond-and-emerald necklace about her throat. “Perhaps I should go.”

“No, you should
not
go,” Aurora declared with a vehement shake of her head. “And I apologize for my brother’s rudeness.”

“What do you mean, ‘as promised’?” Slayde grilled her, ignoring the excess chatter as the significance of his sister’s earlier words sank in.

Aurora frowned. “The note I left you. I explained where I was going, with whom, and for how long. Certainly you understood my reasoning. For heaven’s sake, Slayde, I cannot remain a prisoner at Pembourne forever—”

“What note? I never received a note. Other than ransom ones,” he added.

Now it was Aurora’s turn to look shocked. “Ransom notes? Why on earth would you receive ransom notes?”

“Because half of Devonshire thinks you’ve been kidnapped, that’s why. Because you’ve been missing from Pembourne for a week, and no one has had a clue as to your whereabouts. Word leaked out that you’d been taken. Notes began arriving posthaste.”

“Oh, my God.” Aurora looked positively stricken. “Slayde, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I truly did leave you a note.” Her nose wrinkled. “I can’t imagine how you missed it.”

“Where did you put it?”

“I propped it on my pillow. The morning I left—one week ago today.”

Slayde’s eyes glittered dangerously. “And where, pray tell, did you go?”

“To London.” Aurora’s face lit up. “It was exhilarating. Elinore took me to balls at Almack’s and Carlton House. We rode in Hyde Park and shopped on Bond Street. I even peeked into White’s and caught a glimpse of the gaming.”

“Are you telling me you’ve spent the better part of the last week traipsing about London, with no protection whatsoever?”

Her chin came up. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“You didn’t bother mentioning this intended excursion to our staff,” Slayde accused harshly. “Or is it a coincidence that not one of them reported it to me? Nor, for that matter, did they report Elinore’s visit
or
your subsequent departure.”

A flicker of guilt. “I met Elinore at the lighthouse. It was the only way I could leave Pembourne without being questioned or accompanied. In my confirming note, I explained to Elinore that I needed to drop something off at the lighthouse prior to our departure and asked if her carriage could collect me there. She agreed. As for our servants, they hadn’t a clue of my plans. I merely strolled off in my customary direction. And, since my own wardrobe is sadly lacking in gowns appropriate for a Season, I had no reason to carry a bag. Instead, Elinore and I purchased all I needed in London. She was wonderful. And, in case you’re entertaining the possibility that she was involved in my little plot, don’t. This is the first she’s hearing of it. So don’t even consider blaming her.”

“Fear not—I blame you.”

“Slayde, forgive me for intruding,” Lady Stanwyk murmured, inserting herself with the grace and refinement she so naturally exuded. At forty years of age, she was still a striking woman, her dark hair perfectly coiffed, her green muslin dress cut to her exact specifications. “I’m terribly sorry this dreadful mix-up had to occur. And ’tis true: this is the first I’ve heard of Aurora’s scheme. Certainly I don’t condone it; nor would I have agreed to go along with it if I had. But with regard to her safety, truly, she was quite secure and fully chaperoned. We were accompanied by two ladies’ maids, a carriage driver, and four footmen. We stayed at my London Townhouse, which is fully staffed. Not to mention the fact that I was with Aurora every waking moment.” The viscountess gave a delicate cough. “Other than when she darted from my carriage for that one brief dash down St. James Street to view the men’s clubs. And even then, she was in my line of vision.”

“I stopped only at White’s,” Aurora said in quick clarification. “And I raced back to Elinore’s carriage the moment her footman came to retrieve me—that is, after I’d viewed White’s grand bow window and squinted my way through one game of whist.”

“How reassuring,” Slayde bit out.

“Safety was never an issue, Slayde,” Elinore repeated. “Nor was cruelty. After all—in Aurora’s defense—despite the rashness of her methods, she’d assumed you’d read her note and were apprised of her whereabouts. Had either of us known otherwise, we would have rushed right home. Surely you believe that.”

The helpless fury raging inside Slayde banked, and he turned to the viscountess, abruptly realizing how boorishly he was behaving. “Elinore, forgive me. This argument has nothing to do with you and should not be taking place in your presence. Thank you for taking such excellent care of Aurora and for introducing her to the fashionable world that she was evidently determined to experience.”

“I’m twenty years old, Slayde,” Aurora reminded him. “And you’ve never even brought me out. Is it so wrong for me to want to—”

“We’ll discuss this later, Aurora,” Slayde broke in, jaw clenched in warning. “For now, I want the viscountess to know how much we appreciate her excellent care-taking.”

“You needn’t thank me for spending time with Aurora,” Lady Stanwyk demurred, waving off Slayde’s thanks. “Your parents were Theomund’s and my closest friends; Aurora is like a daughter to me. Anything I can do for her—for either of you—is my pleasure.”

Again Slayde brought his irritation under control, reminding himself that Elinore wasn’t responsible for his sister’s reckless nature. “In which case, I’ll merely ask how you’ve been.”

“For an aging widow?” A faint smile touched the viscountess’s lips. “Quite well, thanks to my refreshing and delightful excursion with Aurora.”

“Aging?” Slayde cocked a brow. “Elinore, you’re scarcely older than I.”

“How gallant of you, Slayde. However, if memory serves me correctly, you’re one and thirty, nearly a decade my junior.”

“You look and act like a young girl,” Aurora defended at once.

Elinore patted her arm. “That’s because you kept me young this week. It’s been eons since I’ve dashed from ball to ball like a wide-eyed child fresh from my Court presentation. In fact, during the two years that Theomund has been gone, I’ve seldom taken part in a London Season, much less immersed myself in one.” Her fingers brushed the stones of her necklace. “In truth, the excitement felt rather good.”

Slayde’s gaze followed her motion. “Was that a gift from Theomund?” he inquired politely.

“Yes.” She glanced down at herself. “His last before he died. Lovely, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Slayde’s expression grew thoughtful. “Actually, it reminds me very much of a necklace Mother owned.”

“It should. It’s almost identical. Your father commissioned a jeweler to design your mother’s as a Christmas gift. I admired it so often that, some years later, Theomund contacted the same jeweler to design one for me.” A worried pucker formed between the viscountess’s brows. “That doesn’t disturb you, does it? That I wear something similar to your mother’s?”

“Of course not. I’m sure it pleased Mother greatly.”

“It did. But that’s not what I meant. ’Twasn’t your mother’s reaction I was pondering.” A slow indrawn breath. “You’re away so often, I lose sight of the fact that you might still…” Her voice trailed off.

“My parents have been gone for over a decade now, Elinore,” Slayde supplied. “My wounds have healed, I assure you. However,”—he cast a sideways look at Aurora—“that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how they died. Nor have I abandoned my intentions to shelter my sister from harm.”

“Of course. I understand.” Elinore turned to Aurora. “ ’Tis time for me to take my leave. Clearly, you and your brother have things to discuss.”

Aurora frowned, doubtless eager to forestall the inevitable. “But—”

“Thank you for understanding, Elinore,” Slayde said firmly. “Good day.”

“Good day.”

Slayde waited only until the viscountess had gathered her skirts and gone. Then he turned to his sister. “We’ll discuss the ramifications of your actions later. For now, where did you say you placed that alleged note you left me?”

“It wasn’t alleged. It was real. And I left it on my pillow.” Aurora headed for the stairs. “I’ll show you.”

Three minutes later, Slayde stood at the foot of Aurora’s bed, arms folded stiffly across his chest. “Well?”

Perplexed, she shuffled her bedcovers about. “I don’t understand. I put it in plain sight. Could a breeze have blown it away?”

“A breeze? From where? Miss Payne hasn’t set foot in here to open a window. She’s been too busy fretting over your absence.”

“Well, I can’t imagine—here it is!” Aurora reached between the mattress and the headboard, retrieving the note and flourishing it for Slayde’s inspection. “Somehow it toppled beneath my bedding. No wonder you didn’t spy it. It was wedged so tightly, not even your keen eye could discern it.”

Slayde snatched the page and scanned it. “Damn,” he muttered, crumpling it into a ball and tossing it across the room. “You’ve been frolicking about London while I’ve been—” He broke off.

“You’ve been…?” Aurora prompted. Pensively, she inclined her head. “Slayde, I’ve never seen you so unnerved. Oh, I know how fervent you are about your role as my protector. I’m sure the ransom notes you received must have been terribly upsetting. Still, they’re not the first threatening letters we’ve received pertaining to the diamond, nor is this the first time someone’s tried to extort it from us. Obviously, just as on those other occasions, these senders were lying. I’m here. I’m fine. So why are you behaving so irrationally?”

Hands clasped behind him, Slayde regarded Aurora with the brooding, self-contained intensity she recognized all too well. “Two of the ransom notes contained locks of what I presumed to be your hair. I believed the letters were valid. I complied with the senders terms.”

“What terms?”

“An exchange—the black diamond for you.”

Undiluted shock registered on Aurora’s face. “So you
did
have the diamond. All these years—”

“Not all these years,” Slayde interrupted. A heartbeat of a pause. “It was only recently that the stone came into my possession.”

“I see. How did it come into your possession? Did you find it?”

“No. It was presented to me.”

“By whom?”

“That’s irrelevant. The point is, I turned it over to a man I believed was holding you prisoner, a man who obviously went to a great deal of trouble to
make
me believe he was holding you prisoner,” Slayde amended. Slowly, he shook his head. “There’s more here than meets the eye.”

“I don’t care,” Aurora declared with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m thrilled the diamond is gone. At last we’ll be rid of that horrible curse.”

A dark scowl. “There is no curse, Aurora. There’s only the greed of those who seek the stone, and whatever accompanies its possession. Wealth, acclaim…or vengeance.”

Aurora sighed deeply. “You still think Lawrence Bencroft is involved. Slayde, he’s too drunk to contrive some grand scheme to avenge his family’s downfall. Is it so difficult for you to accept the possibility that the pirate who summoned you acted alone?”

“If he did, he’s remarkably clever and thorough. Not to mention quick-thinking. He’d have to have learned about your excursion to London immediately, leapt at the chance to feign a kidnapping, and found a perfect replica for you all within a day. Quite a feat, wouldn’t you say?”

“I was hardly invisible. Hundreds of people saw me in London. This pirate could have been in or about Town, caught a glimpse of me, and dispatched a missive straightaway.” A flicker of bewilderment flashed in Aurora’s eyes. “What replica?”

“The young woman I believed to be you when I relinquished the stone. The woman who lost her father, her home, and very nearly her life. The woman who’s down the hall now, recovering from extensive injuries and severe shock. The woman who, from a distance, looks much like you and from whom that filthy pirate clearly acquired the locks of hair he sent me.
That
replica.”

Aurora sank down on the bed. “You’d better explain.” She listened, eyes widening as Slayde relayed the details of what had occurred two nights past. “Who is she?”

“Her name is Courtney Johnston. Her father captained the vessel that was overtaken by that blasted pirate. He was murdered at the same time that his daughter was taken prisoner. That’s all I know. Miss Johnston is awake for only short periods of time. And when she is, she’s still very weak, in a great deal of pain, and—much of the time—incoherent.”

“And all alone,” Aurora murmured. “God knows, I understand how that feels.” Swallowing, she asked, “How old is she?”