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A faint smile touched the earl’s lips. “Nor do I. However, perhaps once you’ve met my sister, you will. Aurora is not what one would call a complacent young lady.”
“But if she went willingly to London, why were you receiving ransom notes?”
“My question exactly. Further, how could a single person—namely, the pirate who killed your father—have had ample time to observe and recognize Aurora, send the appropriate letters to Pembourne, then board a ship, sail forth until he reached yours, overtake it, and hold your crew captive for several days?”
“It isn’t possible.” Courtney shook her head. “The Isobel was en route to the Colonies, three days out of port, when he made his attack. That means he had to be sailing at least that long, even if he knew our exact location and followed us. Not to mention the time it would take him to conceal his own vessel and row out to the Isobel under cover of darkness.”
“And why would he be keeping track of your ship’s whereabouts, much less following you? Even if he already knew of your existence and of your resemblance to Aurora—a farfetched enough idea, given that Aurora doesn’t appear in public—he’d have no cause to act until he spied Aurora in London and realized she was vulnerable. And that’s assuming he’d already devised his plan and was simply waiting for a chance to enact it.”
“I’m still lost,” Courtney murmured. “If you’re right, if that pirate was working with someone, how would that someone have known of Lady Aurora’s intentions to leave Pembourne and travel to London? Clearly, her decision to slip away was impulsive.”
“But not unprecedented. Aurora is very creative—if not very successful—in her attempts to see the world. Usually, she wanders only as far as the lighthouse just beyond Pembourne, by the water’s edge. However, on occasion, she gets more ambitious. ’Twould be obvious to anyone watching the estate that she’s eager for more freedom.”
“Anyone watching the estate,” Courtney repeated. “In other words, you believe Pembourne is under scrutiny.”
“I do.”
“By whom?”
A bitter stare. “The same man whose family has scrutinized and condemned us for generations. Ever since the quest for that bloody diamond.”
“The Bencrofts? Is that the family you mean?”
“Yes. If anyone has a reason—at least in his own distorted mind—to twist a knife in my gut, it’s Lawrence Bencroft, the current Duke of Morland. The hatred within that man runs deeper than you can imagine.”
“Deep enough to feign a kidnapping in order to torment you?”
“Not just to torment me,” Slayde amended. “To baffle, outwit, and humiliate me, and then to rob me of a treasure he considers rightfully his, a treasure that, if my guess is right, is in Morland’s possession right now.”
The pounding in Courtney’s head had begun to intensify as the lingering effects of laudanum slowly faded. “What will you do?” she asked, unconsciously sagging toward Slayde.
“Something my family hasn’t done in sixty years: go to Morland. Visit that drunken snake. And, should he be the inventor of this sick scheme, expose him for the manipulative bastard that he is.” The earl looked down, taking in Courtney’s drooping head. “Shall I bring you more laudanum?”
“No—please. I don’t want to sleep. When I do, the nightmares return. Besides, I can’t think clearly when I’m drugged. And I want to make sense of what you just said.” Desperately, she battled the dull throbbing in her skull. “If what you’re saying is true, if the Duke of Morland hired that wretched pirate to seize Papa’s ship, then the duke must know where to find him—if only to recoup the jewel.”
“I would assume so, yes.” Slayde frowned. “Are you certain you’re able to continue this conversation? ’Tis obvious you’re in pain.”
“I’m certain. Please, my lord, I need to think, to talk. Just for a while. When the pain becomes too much to bear, I’ll take the laudanum. But not yet.”
Lord Pembourne nodded against her hair. “As you wish.” To Courtney’s surprise, he made no move to release her. Instead, he eased her forward, cradling her nape and pressing her cheek to his waistcoat. “Is that better?”
“Much, thank you.” In truth, it was more than better. It was wonderful. By anchoring her head in his powerful hand, the earl was releasing the pressure pounding at her skull while at the same time offering her a sturdy foundation upon which to rest. Even her ribs felt less constricted.
“They’ll fade, you know.”
The words rumbled through his chest to her ear.
“What will?”
“The nightmares. They won’t last forever. They’ll lessen, first in intensity, then in frequency. Finally, they’ll besiege you only on occasion. And suddenly you’ll discover they’re endurable. You won’t be crushed beneath their force. And you’ll begin to live again.”
Courtney sighed. “I hope you’re right.”
“I am.” He hesitated. “Miss Johnston, before we resume our discussion, I have a favor to ask of you, if I may.”
“A favor?” Irony laced her tone. “You saved my life, took me into your home, and are now providing both sympathy and aid, not to mention hope. You may ask anything of me you wish. And please,” she added softly, “call me Courtney, as you did a few minutes past. I realize it’s a bit unorthodox, but then so is the fact that you’ve taken a total stranger into your home and are now visiting her chambers. In addition, to be honest, I’ve never in my life been addressed as ‘Miss Johnston’—with the exception of the one loathsome year I spent at Madame La Salle’s Boarding School for Young Ladies. And that is a period of time I’d like to forget. As, I’m sure, Madame La Salle is doing her best to forget me.”
The earl surprised her—and himself—by chuckling, a husky sound that rolled through Courtney like warm honey. “How ominous. Very well then, Courtney. My favor is as follows: would you consider staying on at Pembourne as Aurora’s companion? Not just while you’re recuperating, but afterward. Until my adventure-seeking sister drives you away. You’d be doing me a great service.”
