"Slayde?"
Still, Slayde hesitated. "The ride to the village might be too much for you and the babe."
"Our child isn't due to make an appearance for more than a month beyond Aurora's chosen wedding day," Courtney reminded him gently. "As for the ride, it's scarcely a mile from Pembourne to the village. Both the babe and I will fare wonderfully, my love. I promise."
"Fine." At last, Slayde seemed to be convinced. "A wedding it is. At the village church. With a party to follow, here at Pembourne. Would that please you, Aurora?"
"Oh, yes," Aurora breathed. "Very much." She grinned at Courtney. "T hank you."
"You're more than welcome," her friend answered in that tranquil way of hers.
"Julian." Slayde's tone and expression had lost all traces of lightheartedness. "There's one last issue we must discuss, that being the reality of your father's grand proclamation prior to his death. I realize there was no affinity between the two of you; however, I need to know your intentions with regard to his investigation. Do you mean to continue it, to support his ludicrous claim that I'm harboring the black diamond here at Pembourne? If so, you'd best tell me now before you whisk away my sister, then insert her between us."
Julian felt Aurora's pointed gaze—a gaze not furrowed in worry over where his allegiance might lie, he noted t hank fully, but one that was bright with curiosity over how he proposed to address Slayde's query—one Julian himself had been anticipating.
"The answer, Slayde, is no," he returned smoothly. "I don't intend to pursue my father's so-called investigation. And not because I won't come between Aurora and her family—although I respect her feelings for you and Courtney—but because I've already perused my father's papers thoroughly, and they're no more than an empty and grasping crusade conducted by a mean-spirited man. His entire investigation consists of a notebook filled with empty accusations and rambling avenues that have turned up nothing. There isn't one shred of tangible evidence there, nor even a concrete path worthy of pursuit. Certainly nothing to compel me to further his course. In fact, I'd all but decided to dispose of his notes when it occurred to me you might want to see them, to assure yourself that I speak the truth." Julian gestured toward the window. "The papers are in my carriage. My footman will fetch them before I leave. Read them at your leisure. Then do with them what you will. In the interim, I'll make a public statement retracting my father's accusations. I might not be able to undo all the damage he caused, but perhaps I'll shake some reason into people, succeed in deterring a few prospective thieves from invading Pembourne. Does that satisfactorily address your concerns?"
Slayde gave an audible sigh of relief. "It does."
"Have we covered all your objections, then?"
"To my amazement, yes."
"Good." Julian's fingers tightened about Aurora's. "Then 'tis time to embrace the future." He turned to his bride-to-be, gave her a conspiratorial wink that spoke volumes. "The future—and all it entails."
----
Chapter 5
« ^ »
" A h, Rory. Excellent. It's five minutes past six. You're just in time for tea and sunrise. A half hour for the former, a quarter hour for the latter."
Mr. Scollard brushed a shock of white hair from his forehead and gestured toward the tray of refreshment laid out in the Windmouth Lighthouse's small sitting room. "Come. Sit by the fire. It will warm the winter chill away. As will the tea."
"Fortifying tea, I hope," Aurora replied, slipping out of her mantle and crossing over to accept the proffered cup of steaming brew. She had long since given up being surprised by Mr. Scollard's foreknowledge of all her visits—a knowledge based not on firsthand scrutiny of her approach, but on some innate awareness that only Mr. Scollard possessed. One simply accepted Mr. Scollard's visionary abilities as a given,
Still, Slayde hesitated. "The ride to the village might be too much for you and the babe."
"Our child isn't due to make an appearance for more than a month beyond Aurora's chosen wedding day," Courtney reminded him gently. "As for the ride, it's scarcely a mile from Pembourne to the village. Both the babe and I will fare wonderfully, my love. I promise."
"Fine." At last, Slayde seemed to be convinced. "A wedding it is. At the village church. With a party to follow, here at Pembourne. Would that please you, Aurora?"
"Oh, yes," Aurora breathed. "Very much." She grinned at Courtney. "T hank you."
"You're more than welcome," her friend answered in that tranquil way of hers.
"Julian." Slayde's tone and expression had lost all traces of lightheartedness. "There's one last issue we must discuss, that being the reality of your father's grand proclamation prior to his death. I realize there was no affinity between the two of you; however, I need to know your intentions with regard to his investigation. Do you mean to continue it, to support his ludicrous claim that I'm harboring the black diamond here at Pembourne? If so, you'd best tell me now before you whisk away my sister, then insert her between us."
Julian felt Aurora's pointed gaze—a gaze not furrowed in worry over where his allegiance might lie, he noted t hank fully, but one that was bright with curiosity over how he proposed to address Slayde's query—one Julian himself had been anticipating.
"The answer, Slayde, is no," he returned smoothly. "I don't intend to pursue my father's so-called investigation. And not because I won't come between Aurora and her family—although I respect her feelings for you and Courtney—but because I've already perused my father's papers thoroughly, and they're no more than an empty and grasping crusade conducted by a mean-spirited man. His entire investigation consists of a notebook filled with empty accusations and rambling avenues that have turned up nothing. There isn't one shred of tangible evidence there, nor even a concrete path worthy of pursuit. Certainly nothing to compel me to further his course. In fact, I'd all but decided to dispose of his notes when it occurred to me you might want to see them, to assure yourself that I speak the truth." Julian gestured toward the window. "The papers are in my carriage. My footman will fetch them before I leave. Read them at your leisure. Then do with them what you will. In the interim, I'll make a public statement retracting my father's accusations. I might not be able to undo all the damage he caused, but perhaps I'll shake some reason into people, succeed in deterring a few prospective thieves from invading Pembourne. Does that satisfactorily address your concerns?"
Slayde gave an audible sigh of relief. "It does."
"Have we covered all your objections, then?"
"To my amazement, yes."
"Good." Julian's fingers tightened about Aurora's. "Then 'tis time to embrace the future." He turned to his bride-to-be, gave her a conspiratorial wink that spoke volumes. "The future—and all it entails."
----
Chapter 5
« ^ »
" A h, Rory. Excellent. It's five minutes past six. You're just in time for tea and sunrise. A half hour for the former, a quarter hour for the latter."
Mr. Scollard brushed a shock of white hair from his forehead and gestured toward the tray of refreshment laid out in the Windmouth Lighthouse's small sitting room. "Come. Sit by the fire. It will warm the winter chill away. As will the tea."
"Fortifying tea, I hope," Aurora replied, slipping out of her mantle and crossing over to accept the proffered cup of steaming brew. She had long since given up being surprised by Mr. Scollard's foreknowledge of all her visits—a knowledge based not on firsthand scrutiny of her approach, but on some innate awareness that only Mr. Scollard possessed. One simply accepted Mr. Scollard's visionary abilities as a given,
Similar Books
