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"You're right. The threatening notes and attempted burglaries have all but ceased. So, if it's not privateers…" Aurora scanned the area again. "Stone would have no reason to conceal himself, especially now that he and I have officially met. Do you think it's Macall? Do you think he discovered your whereabouts and tracked us here?"
"No." Julian shook his head. "Macall's determined enough to hunt me down, but not shrewd enough to follow me undetected from a distance—especially by water. If he were out there, I'd have spied him hours ago. No, actually I don't think we were followed—this time. However…"
"I know," Aurora interrupted, her eyes twinkling. "The cardinal rule of adventurers. Eliminate any potential obstacles." She rose to her feet, brushing clumps of dirt from her gown. "Tell me, Merlin—is hurrying permitted? Or is that too conspicuous? Must we walk unobtrusively so as not to arouse suspicion?"
Julian chuckled and stood up, the strongbox and tools tucked beneath his arm. "Hurrying is not only permitted but advisable. Come."
They scrambled down the cliffs, Aurora's gown catching and ripping several times along the way. At last they reached the ketch, at which time she bounded by Julian, leaping aboard and fidgeting restlessly as her husband lowered the strongbox and tools to the deck, then swung down beside her. "Now," she urged. "Quickly. Open it."
Julian extracted the key, then paused, offering it to Aurora while he untied the rope that bound their ketch to land. "Why don't you?"
"I?" Aurora stared. "Really?"
"James was your great-grandfather. Technically the strongbox belongs to you." A teasing grin as he raised the sail. "Besides, you deserve a reward. You've proved to be quite a splendid—and successful—adventurer." He folded her fingers around the key, then
resumed his place at the helm. "You open. I'll steer. It's all yours, Rory."
Trembling with excitement, Aurora kneeled beside the strongbox, locating the knob that corresponded to the one beneath which Geoffrey had concealed his keyhole.
She grasped it firmly and eased it aside until the slot was revealed. Then she fit the key into the slot, exerting pressure—a little at a time—until the lock gave, opening with a telltale click.
Aurora's gaze met Julian's.
"Bravo, soleil," he praised. "Now let's see what James left us."
Wetting her lips, Aurora raised the lid, baring the chest's contents for them both to see.
A dagger adorned with the head of a falcon greeted their eyes. Beneath the dagger lay a single sheet of paper covered with text, discolored with age.
Aurora lifted both articles from the strongbox and turned her attention first to the dagger, which she held out for Julian's inspection. "It's identical to Geoffrey's."
"Indeed it is," he concurred. "Clearly this is James's way of ensuring us that what we've found is genuine—left to us by the Falcon." Julian veered the ketch on its course, casting a quick look at the paper in Aurora's hand. "One edge of the page is jagged. And the words are printed, not penned. What do they say?"
"The page must have been torn from a book." Aurora frowned, turning the paper back to front, scanning the contents. "There's printing on both sides. The content describes the hunting habits of the falcon—more specifically, the merlin and the kestrel."
"The two smallest falcons," Julian noted aloud. "Interesting. We'll have to read the text more closely, see what particular wording James wants us to distinguish. Are there any marks penned on the page?"
"No marks, no underlined or circled words, not even a notation in the margin—not on either side." Aurora fingered the page's uneven edge. "The good news is that none of the contents were cut off when the page was torn free." A pause. "I wonder what book James took it from."
"That might be equally as significant as what's printed on the page itself," Julian mused aloud. "I suggest we leave Plymouth immediately, ride directly to Pembourne to show our findings to Slayde and Courtney. After all, we have no immediate reason to return to Morland now that we've found the strongbox. And your brother and sister-in-law deserve to know our findings."
Aurora shot him a knowing look. "Not to mention that Pembourne contains James's library—and all his falcon books—which you're eager to get your hands on, given that one of them is doubtless the book we seek."
Julian chuckled. "You're becoming increasingly more insightful."
"Perhaps my insight is strengthening only with regard to you," Aurora suggested pointedly, studying her husband's profile to gauge his reaction. "Careful, Merlin. I'm beginning to understand the way you think."
An amused sideways glance. "Should I feel threatened?"
"Only if you insist on retaining those wretched walls of yours." Her smile was beatific. "If not, I'm quite harmless."
"I'm glad to hear that, soleil. I've started to see for myself just how formidable an adversary you would be."
Julian's tone was teasing, which irritated Aurora more than the wariness she'd been expecting. Teasing meant he was intentionally evading the subject, skillfully thwarting any inroads she hoped to make. Damn you, Julian, she fumed silently. You can't shut me out forever. I won't let you.
The fervor of her own resolve gave her pause. Yes, Julian was a challenge—one she'd vowed to rise to. But the intensity of her determination to break down his emotional walls far exceeded anything she'd ever experienced in the mere facing of a challenge. What exactly was troubling her so much? Julian was giving her all the things he'd promised when he offered for her: adventure, excitement, passion. He'd vowed to share the exhilaration of his life, the wealth of his experience. He'd said nothing about relaying his innermost thoughts, sharing his feelings.
Opening his heart.
