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Taking a healthy swallow, Julian leaned back against the sideboard, watching Slayde and gauging his reaction. "Before I begin, let me state my position on a less than pleasant topic—one we've always carefully avoided, as we've avoided each other. I've never subscribed to this timeless war between our families. I never intend to. I'm not sure where you stand on the issue. I know you despised my grandfather and, to a lesser extent, my father. But am I correct in assuming that prior to what happened last night, you had nothing against me personally?"
Slayde's brooding stare darkened. "I'm not certain how to answer that. No, I had nothing against you personally—until last night. However, that doesn't mean I ever forgot you were Lawrence Bencroft's son."
Julian had expected nothing less. "Regardless of that fact, I'd appreciate you putting aside your hostility long enough to hear me out."
A muscle worked in Slayde's jaw. "You ask a great deal, Morland. Your father's lying accusations have once again thrown my life into chaos and my family into danger. I'm fighting to keep them safe. And just when I'd ensured Aurora's future, she ran off to stage her own ruin. Her defiler? The last remaining Bencroft, the very man whose family has sought to destroy mine for nearly a century. So you'll forgive me if I'm a bit less than hospitable. As for hearing you out, I'll do so only because Aurora tells me you didn't realize her identity any more than she did yours. Nevertheless, be aware that after you've had your say, I intend to call you out. Not because you're a Bencroft, but because you're an immoral blackguard."
"Fair enough." With an unruffled nod, Julian tossed off his Madeira. "You do realize, however, that you'd be providing gossips such as Lady Altec with precisely the ammunition they seek."
"I doubt they could hurt Aurora any more than she's already hurt herself."
"I suppose that's true. Still, a duel won't be necessary."
"I disagree. Now, name the time and place."
"The time? As soon as possible. The place? Any church will suffice. Even Pembourne's chapel, if you prefer."
"You want to duel in a chapel?" Slayde asked incredulously.
"No, I want to marry your sister in a chapel."
Slayde's breath expelled in a rush. "What did you say?"
"I think I made myself clear. I've come to offer for Aurora. Is that so surprising? I am, after all, the man who ruined her for the Viscount…?" Julian inclined his head quizzically. "Who was she to marry, anyway?"
"Guillford," Slayde supplied automatically, his expression a picture of stunned disbelief.
"Guillford?" Julian gave a derisive snort, shaking his head and prowling restlessly about the room. "No wonder Aurora was so eager to free herself. Guillford is a pleasant enough fellow—I've shared many a game of whist with him—but he's about as exciting as an unpainted canvas. Surely you realize how wrong he is for your sister."
"Morland, have you lost your bloody mind?" Slayde seemed to recover himself all at once. "Or is this your idea of some cruel and vicious joke?"
"I don't joke about my life, Pembourne." Julian stalked over to the desk, leaning forward to confront Slayde head-on. "Neither do I forsake my responsibilities—at least those I deem worth shouldering. Surprised? Don't be. The truth is, you don't know a bloody thing about me or about my principles. All you know is whatever you've convinced yourself are 'Bencroft' traits. Now let's get to Aurora. You're concerned over her future, and with good reason. Most of the ton's suitable gentlemen are either married or terrified by the very name of Huntley. And once Lady Altec has spread her news—as I hear she does remarkably well—the final few potential suitors will vanish like the mist. Which reminds me, has the oh-so-proper Viscount Guillford cried off yet? If not, I'm sure he will the very instant his driver can rush him to Pembourne Manor. Now, let's see. Aurora is how old—nearly one and twenty? I fear her marital prospects look bleak."
Anger slashed Slayde's features. "So you're here to sacrifice yourself? How noble. And how unbelievable. What do you really want—to taunt me?"
"No. I want Aurora. I wanted her the minute I saw her. Before I knew she was a Huntley. Before I even knew what the hell she was doing in Dawlish's. She's a beautiful, captivating woman. One whom, for the record, I had no intentions of bedding last night. Nor, by the way, did she ask me to. On the contrary, she made her innocence a well-known fact from the start. All she wanted was to disentangle herself from an unwanted betrothal."
Slayde's color had returned and he was watching Julian with a guarded expression. "You really mean this, don't you?"
"Yes. Now the question is, are you going to forbid the marriage because I'm a Bencroft? If so, you're a fool. I'm not my father, nor am I my grandfather. I walked out of that house six years ago for a reason. I never intended to return. But circumstances altered that decision. So I'm here—for now."
"For now. How comforting. After which you'll be off again, roaming the globe, I presume."
"In time, yes."
"And what will Aurora do? Be imprisoned at Morland? She's miserable enough doing that here, and Pembourne is her home."
An unexpected grin tugged at Julian's lips. "If my suspicions about Aurora are correct, she'll be dashing about the world at my side."
"Don't look so damned smug. Aurora would accompany the devil himself in order to experience a life of adventure."
Julian's eyes glinted. "I'm sure you're right. Fortunately I'm not the devil. Moreover, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I don't think Aurora's accompanying me would be inspired solely by her desire for adventure. Your sister was as intrigued by me as I was by her. And if you're about to ask how I know that—don't. You won't like the answer."
Slayde's hands balled into fists. "You bastard."
"Unfortunately not. I'm a Bencroft. But that's already been too well established." Julian's goblet struck the desk with a purposeful thud. "Look, Pembourne. I'll give you a wealth of reasons why you should consider my offer. First, I happen to be the man Aurora approached—the man who eventually helped ruin her. Second, better than anyone, I know the ramifications of the black diamond's ludicrous curse. Hordes of scoundrels are hell-bent on finding the stone—using whatever means they have to. You want Aurora gone from Pembourne, safely taken care of. She would be. To begin with, she'd no longer be a Huntley. Thus, she'd no longer be a target for thieves—or worse. Further, let me assure you that no one, I repeat no one, for whom I'm responsible is ever harmed. I vow to you that as my wife Aurora will be fully protected at all times—by me. Safety will cease to be an issue. On to financial security. My father squandered his money. I did not. I'm wealthy enough to offer Aurora any luxury she might want. I can also bestow upon her the elevated title of duchess—albeit accompanied by the name Morland." Julian arched a brow. "Think about what a delightful upheaval we'd cause. After all these years, merging our families. That alone would make it worthwhile, even if it weren't for the splendid reasons I just enumerated."
"What about Aurora's wishes?" Slayde demanded. "Where do those fit in?"
