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"There is another possibility," Aurora proposed, the notion exploding inside her like fireworks. "Perhaps James commissioned a matching strongbox of his own—and a key that presumably unlocked not only his falcon cages, but that opened his strongbox as well. If so, perhaps that strongbox contains information as vital as that which Geoffrey bequeathed Julian."

Julian's head shot up, his astonished gaze fixed on his wife. "My theory precisely."

"Don't look so astounded, Julian," Courtney advised him cheerfully. "Aurora has the quickest and most inventive mind I've ever encountered in a man or a woman. You'd best accustom yourself to that fact."

"It would seem so." Julian eyed his wife, looking not the least bit threatened by Courtney's pronouncement. "Do you know, Rory, with your daring and intelligence, 'tis a pity you've been confined to Pembourne all these years."

"For the world's sake, perhaps, but not for Merlin's," Aurora quipped back, her grin impish. "I'd make an extraordinary mercenary—and a formidable adversary. So feel relieved that marriage has rendered me an ally."

Julian laughed, a rich, husky sound that permeated the room like warm honey. "I do, soleil. Very relieved." His gaze fell on the key and his laughter faded. "Time to test our theory."

"I'm going with you," Aurora declared instantly.

"As am I." Slowly Courtney eased to her feet. "Although I'm a bit dubious about your suspicions. Had James possessed such a strongbox, Slayde would have known of its existence."

"If the box were among James's personal effects." Julian was halfway to the door. "If not, it could still exist—hidden. In which case it's up to us to determine its whereabouts."

Only three steps behind her husband, Aurora paused and cast a swift glance at Courtney. "Do you mind if I run on ahead?"

"Of course not." Courtney waved for her to do just that. "Oh, one question: who is Merlin? Other than a falcon, that is."

"A most extraordinary mercenary—the one I offered myself to at Dawlish's a fortnight ago," Aurora called over her shoulder. "I'll explain later. I don't want to miss anything."

With that she darted after Julian.

Slayde was already trying the key, Julian looming over him, when she burst into the study. "It doesn't fit," Slayde announced, extracting the key and holding it up beside the original. "You're right. The notches are different. As far as this second key fitting anything other than the falcon cages—more specifically, some hidden strongbox—wouldn't James have told someone if he had commissioned such a box? How else could he ensure that it fell into the right hands? He certainly couldn't assume someone would pass by our falcon cages and suspect the key used to unlock them would also unlock some unknown strongbox."

"Not unless the person passing by had already seen the key to Geoffrey's box and noticed a resemblance." Julian clasped his hands behind his back, his body taut with concentration. "Your solicitor," he asked abruptly. "Is it Henry Camden?"

Slowly Slayde lowered the keys to his desk. "Yes. It is."

"I thought as much. He's mine as well, and has been for years. In fact, his father George was retained by my great-grandfather—and yours, I suspect, given the nature of Geoffrey and James's partnership."

"That makes sense. And, yes, the Camdens have served us for generations. Both Henry and his father before him were outstanding solicitors—consistently trustworthy and competent."

"Very competent." A glint of speculation lit Julian's eyes. "And very trustworthy. Maybe trustworthy enough to endow with not one, but two strongboxes for safekeeping—Geoffrey's and James's."

"'Tis possible," Slayde murmured. "Henry would never have mentioned James's strongbox to you—not without specific instructions to do so. He's far too principled. He'd wait until James's descendent approached him."

"You," Julian qualified.

"Yes—I."

"Then we'd best be off now." Julian plucked the second key from the desk, glancing out the study window as he did. "There are but a few hours of daylight left. We'll ride until dark, then stay at an inn and be waiting for Henry first thing in the morning when he opens his office."

"No." Slayde gave an adamant shake of his head.

"No?" Julian started.

"You heard me, no." Slayde folded his arms across his chest, his eyes a steely gray. "I won't leave Pembourne, not with the dangers hovering at its gates." He held up his palm, silencing Julian's objections. "Don't waste my time with senseless arguments. My family name means a great deal to me, but not as much as my wife and child. I'll tear this manor apart piece by piece, scrutinize every object and document I find for hidden clues. But until that black diamond is found and restored, until the invasions of my home cease to occur and the threatening notes stop arriving, I will not leave this estate. Period."

Julian sucked in his breath. "Fine. We'll send for Henry, then; ask him to ride to Pembourne at once. It will delay our answers a day or two, but if that's the only way…"

"It's not."

Both men jerked about to stare at Aurora, who shot them an exasperated look.

"Have you forgotten that Slayde is not the only living Huntley?" she demanded. "Married or not, I'm still James's great-granddaughter. Slayde, pen a letter of permission for me to take to Mr. Camden. Then you remain here with Courtney, and I'll ride to Somerset with Julian. We'll forfeit not an instant of time, and if Henry is indeed in possession of a Huntley strongbox, he can present it to me."

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