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“I’m praying for exactly that.”
A brief pause. “There’s one thing we haven’t discussed.”
“Which is?”
Aurora sighed, torn between eagerness and honesty—honesty winning out. “The ton’s reception. You touched on the subject before, then dismissed it—possibly without considering what you were dismissing. Courtney, I’ve heard equally as much about the fashionable world as you have. According to Elinore, they can be quite vicious. During my sole foray into the London Season, she served as my chaperon, thus preventing a wealth of pointed fingers and icy stares. But I don’t delude myself. Despite my elation at attending so many grand balls, I knew people were whispering behind my back. After all, I’m a Huntley. Were I to truly make my debut, be brought out on Slayde’s arm, I’d be subject to blatant rejection and snubbing—even after you and I have successfully enacted all we just discussed. As you yourself pointed out, your plan—though positively brilliant—will eliminate the ton’s fear, but ’twill do nothing to erase the age-old scandal. For myself, I don’t care. I’ll withstand the less-than-kind reception, just to be among people, to see the world. But for you, who’s already seen and done so much, there’s nothing to be gained and a great deal of potential hurt to endure. Remember, once you and Slayde are wed, the Huntley whispers will extend to you. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
Courtney’s eyes glowed. “I’m sure I love your brother. As for the world, I don’t care a whit about what they say or don’t say about me. Let them gossip. Nothing would make me prouder than to stand beside Slayde—as his wife and your sister.” Rising, Courtney walked over to squeeze Aurora’s hands. “ ’Tis not an issue—honestly. But I appreciate your worrying about me.”
A current of understanding ran between the two women.
“Now, back to our plan,” Courtney continued. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll all breakfast together. Once Slayde leaves, I’ll stand guard while you get the papers. Then I’ll head off to the stables and fetch two horses while you plead our case to Cutterton.” A worried pucker. “I’m not the best of riders, but for the relatively short distance to Morland, I’ll manage. We’ll ride to the lighthouse, wait a prescribed period of time, then head out from there. I’ll tell Matilda I’m eager to see Mr. Scollard, but too peaked to walk. That will explain why we’re not on foot.”
“Perfect.”
Courtney gave Aurora’s hands another squeeze. “Again, thank you.”
“No, Courtney, ’tis I who thank you,” Aurora murmured, gazing at her friend. “I believed fate brought you to Pembourne for my sake. Which it did—in part.” An insightful nod. “But the more amazing part…” She smiled. “My brother is a very lucky man.”
“Ah, I’ve been expecting you.” Mr. Scollard made his way down the last three steps from the tower, greeting Courtney and Aurora as they bustled through the lighthouse door. “Actually, you’re a bit early,” he amended, glancing at his timepiece. “Given Courtney’s limited riding ability, I assumed you’d need some extra time.” He shrugged. “No matter. Tea is prepared.”
Courtney laughed, unfastening her mantle. “You were right. I did need that time. Unfortunately, my mount did not. He descended the hill like a bullet. He galloped; I prayed.”
Nodding his white head, Mr. Scollard poured three cups of tea. “Prayers are invaluable—as you’re fast finding out.” He offered her a cup, assessing her with those probing blue eyes. “I didn’t anticipate another visit from you so soon. I’m glad you found your way.”
“As am I.” Courtney knew they were referring to more than today’s jaunt.
“The journey continues,” he apprised her, handing Aurora her tea. “You and Rory are entering a dark segment, but one you must embark upon—carefully. Drink up.”
Aurora took a huge gulp, then broached the subject that had plagued her the past hour. “Mr. Scollard, I asked Cutterton to dispatch one of his men to deliver our letters to London, and he agreed. No questions asked.”
A knowing nod. “He’s a good man, Cutterton. Very dedicated.”
“But intolerably overprotective, as you know from my constant complaints. His attitude this morning was completely out of character. I expected to have to beg and plead, fall at his feet, pretend to be violently ill, concoct some extravagant lie. Yet all I did was make my request—stipulations and all—and off he went to find Mathers, who he assured me was the right man.” Aurora’s eyes narrowed. “Did you have anything to do with Cutterton’s sudden and inexplicable agreeability?”
“I?” The lighthouse keeper’s brows rose. “I haven’t spoken a word to the fellow.”
“Your powers are far-reaching.”
A chuckle. “So is your determination.”
Aurora sighed. “As usual, you’re not going to answer me, are you?”
“I thought I had.”
“Mr. Scollard,” She tried another, equally important, tactic. “What advice can you offer Courtney and me? I know you can’t—or won’t—foresee the outcome of our venture, but what glimpses can you share?”
A fond smile. “Twenty years will be celebrated. Just as we celebrated yours, Rory.”
“My birthday,” Courtney murmured. “ ’Tis in a fortnight. I’d forgotten.”
“You’ve been preoccupied.” His eyes sparkled. “And very inventive, as well. I commend you on your plan.”
Eagerly, Courtney leaned forward. “Will it succeed?”
“Just as it is with me, you see much—and much, you don’t.” Abruptly, the lighthouse keeper frowned. “Danger,” he murmured, an odd light coming into his eyes. “ ’Tis only now emerging to take form. Terrible danger. Look deep within. It’s festering close at hand.”
“Danger close at hand?” Courtney repeated. “Do you mean the duke? Will he thwart my plan? Will it fail?”
