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“I realize that, but ’tis you he needs to speak with, not I.”
“In other words, you’re running away.”
Slayde pivoted, his eyes narrowing on her face. “No. I’m riding to Morland. Or at least to the outskirts of the estate where my investigator is posted. I want to ascertain if he’s learned anything of interest. If Morland has made any unexpected trips, met with anyone of import or means, I’ll ride back into the village, seek out Morland’s banker and solicitor, and exert more pressure—I hope enough to unnerve one of them into divulging even the smallest of incriminating details. As for Oridge, I’ll return in ample time to meet with him before sending him off in one of my ships to pursue the Fortune.”
“I see.” Courtney’s tone told him she still believed he was running away.
Hell, she was right. He was.
“Slayde?”
“What?” He watched her cross towards him, and he battled the urge to drag her into his arms, vows be damned.
“The duke might be dangerous,” she murmured, laying her palm against his jaw. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
Tension crackled between them.
Abruptly, Courtney rose on her toes, wrapped her arms about Slayde’s neck, and tugged his mouth down to hers.
He made a rough sound deep in his throat, pulling her to him and burying his lips in hers for one long, unendurable—and final—moment.
At last he broke away, feeling a tangible empti
ness as their bodies separated, fervently wishing he were anything but a Huntley. God, he didn’t want to let her go. All he wanted was to lose himself inside the gift she offered.
But he couldn’t. He cared too damned much, more than he himself had realized until this very moment.
With a muttered oath, he turned on his heel, leaving the embrace, the bedchamber, and Courtney behind.
Because he had to.
Chapter 9
AURORA SCOOTED UP THE path leading to the manor, glancing at the position of the sun. It couldn’t be much past seven, she decided. It had been dark when she’d left for the lighthouse at half after five. But now the household was up and about, and she was eager to return in time for Courtney’s meeting with Mr. Oridge and for Elinore’s impending visit.
The drive came into view, and Aurora halted, startled to see Slayde’s phaeton, ready to go, and her brother, who was in the process of climbing into the front seat and taking up the reins.
“Slayde?” She called his name, taking the remaining distance between them at a dead run.
Slayde’s head snapped about, and he scowled, looking as cantankerous as his guards did after one of her escapes. “What is it, Aurora?”
“Where on earth are you going? Isn’t Mr. Oridge speaking with Courtney this morning?”
“To Newton Abbot. And yes. Now, does that satisfactorily answer your questions?”
She blinked, taking in the deep circles under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t slept a wink. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Slayde snapped, fingers tightening about the reins. “I’m just eager to be on my way. And, lest you forget, I’m not required to give you a schedule of my comings and goings. If I recall correctly, ’tis the other way around—not that you adhere to that principle. Good day.”
With a slap of the reins, he was gone.
Aurora stood, gaping after him, wondering what had inspired his black mood. Had he and Courtney argued? ’Twas possible, especially if he’d given Courtney an especially bad time of it during his lecture about her attempted walk to the lighthouse. Or was it something else, something to do with the mystery?
This did indeed require investigation.
Bursting through the front door, Aurora nearly knocked Siebert over.
