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"I did. I do." Aurora gave a dazed shake of her head. "Listen to me. I don't know what I'm saying, much less what I'm feeling. Please, Mr. Scollard, help me."
His vivid blue eyes shone with equally vivid memories. "Your expression … your plea … you sound much as another did not too long ago. Another whom you love very much."
A sage nod. "You're speaking of Courtney."
"Surely you recall how she grappled with her feelings for Slayde?"
"Yes, but that was different."
"Was it?"
"Definitely. Courtney and Slayde fell in love. They shared their thoughts; they understood each other … why, Courtney transformed my brother into an entirely different man."
"After being thrust unexpectedly into his life—yes, she did. As Slayde did for her. My point exactly." Mr. Scollard took a thoughtful sip of tea. "Love is an astonishing force. Stronger than all other forces combined. Except perhaps fate. Fate, much like you, is not only fervent, she has a definite mind of her own. It appears she's decided to insert herself in your life."
"For good or for ill?"
"Your instincts say for good." A glimmer of humor. "Evidently so does your balance. Else it would have found a way to right itself by now. Two days have passed since you met the duke, and one sleepless night has elapsed since his proposal—and his revelation. Surely that's enough time to regain your sensibilities."
Aurora sat bolt upright, having scarcely heard Mr. Scollard's final sentence. "So you do know."
He shrugged. "There's much I know, still more I don't."
"Exactly what is the much to which you refer?" Aurora asked cautiously, guarding her words in a way she'd never anticipated doing with her oldest friend.
A smile touched Mr. Scollard's lips. "Your honor is as fierce as your spirit. I'm proud of you, Rory. The duke requested secrecy, and secrecy you have granted. Despite the tragedies you've faced, the limitations that have so thwarted your need to fly, your character has flourished. You'll make an exemplary wife, at least for one as uncommon as you." With that, Mr. Scollard set down his cup. "Now, to address your question about the much to which I refer. I refer to Geoffrey Bencroft and James Huntley. Fine men, both. Loyal to their country. Brave and intelligent—with an insatiable thirst for adventure. Much as the great-grandchildren they begot. The ones who have inherited their legacy and are soon to be joined in a partnership as profound as that of the Fox and the Falcon—a partnership that is identical in some ways, splendidly different in others." Mr. Scollard's eyes twinkled. "I needn't elaborate on the differences. In any case, Geoffrey's mind was keen, perceptive, cunning as that of a fox. James's tactics were flawless, unfailing, lethal as those of a falcon. 'Tis wrong for their memories to remain tarnished. Just as it's wrong for the black diamond to remain unrestored to the sacred temple from which it was taken. But none existed who could right those wrongs. None until now."
Aurora sucked in her breath. "If you were aware of all this, why didn't you tell me?"
"The legacy wasn't mine to share; therefore, I saw only smoky fragments, wisps of truth—until yesterday when the duke opened that chest. Suddenly the haze lifted and my vision cleared."
"Then tell me, is it Julian's and my fate to fulfill our great-grandfathers' quest?"
"You have much to fulfill, equally as much to be fulfilled. Both those tasks pose daunting challenges."
A sigh. "And of course, it's too soon for you to predict whether we'll meet those challenges."
"Meet them you shall. Surmount them?" A resigned shrug. "I see only that which is offered for my sight."
Aurora propped her chin on her hand. "Tell me about Julian."
"What is it you wish to hear?"
"Anything. I need your guidance."
An insightful look. "Do you?"
"Of course—yes." Aurora felt utterly exasperated. "I'm marrying a total stranger, a man as transient as a gypsy, as fleeting as the tide, and as overwhelming as the forces of nature."
"I concur wholeheartedly." Mr. Scollard placed a fourth cake on Aurora's plate. "All the more reason to gather your strength. Excitement can be quite taxing. As can freedom, adventure, and, of course, passion."
That brought her up short. Aurora cast a swift sidelong glance at her friend, wondering how to interpret his comment. Oh, she hadn't a doubt that he'd deliberately chosen the very words Julian had used to describe her future as his wife. But by passion did Mr. Scollard refer to a vast ecumenical passion for life? Or did he refer to something far more intimate? Could he actually perceive the wild explosion that stormed her senses each time Julian took her in his arms?
Her perusal provided no answers. The lighthouse keeper's expression was nondescript as he calmly stirred sugar into his tea. "Your betrothed is not totally dissimilar from your brother, Rory," he asserted. "Remember, autonomy is often a result, not a choice."
Aurora's speculations vanished, her mind racing off in this new and significant direction. "Especially in Julian's case; his father was a horrid, vengeful man."
"Indeed."
