Legacy of the Diamond (Black Diamond 1)

Slayde loved her. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind of that fact, nor of the fact that he knew, as well as she, that they belonged together. Yet, he was fighting that knowledge, fighting it every inch of the way.

The irony of it all was that what he was fighting was not his feelings, but hers. After years of solitude, Slayde was accepting the fact that he needed someone other than himself, that his heart was no longer his own.

What he couldn’t accept was her need for him.

Damn that bloody curse.

Courtney slammed her fist against the sill. What could she do to convince Slayde that his efforts to protect her were for naught? How could she make him believe that she felt safe here, that she belonged nowhere else, that she’d gladly live under lock and key rather than sacrifice the chance to share his life?

She couldn’t.

The only way Slayde would not only relent, but welcome the prospect of her commitment, was if the black diamond were gone from their lives forever.

Well, she had no idea where the stone was. Then, again, neither did anyone else.

Courtney’s head came up, her mind racing with a budding idea. No one knew the gem Slayde had surrendered to Armon was a fake. In fact, no one knew much of anything, other than generations of escalating hearsay. Everything concerning the black diamond was whispered nervously behind closed doors, snatches of rumor being passed from gossip to gossip.

Wasn’t it time to alert the world to the truth? That the infamous black diamond was no longer in the Huntleys’ possession?

A small smile curved Courtney’s lips. If there was one thing she’d learned from years of pretending to be an ardent sailor rather than a seasick passenger, it was that perception was ofttimes more important than reality. ’Twas time to put that principle to work.

“Courtney?” ’Twas Slayde’s voice outside her door. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” She turned to greet him, her heart wrenching at the lines of torment on his face. Determinedly, she reminded herself that she was about to alleviate them. “You weren’t at dinner.”

“I wasn’t hungry.” He shut the door behind him, eyes searching her face. “How do you feel?”

“My emotions are mixed,” she answered honestly. “I’m still in shock over Papa, torn between grief and denial. But I’m no longer empty—thanks to you.”

Emotion darkened his gaze. “Are you in any discomfort?”

“No.” She shook her head, touched rather than embarrassed by his concern. “I soaked in a hot bath. I feel fine.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted you to know I’m riding to Dartmouth tomorrow, to see if Grimes has returned.”

“You mentioned your intentions to do that while we were on the ketch.”

“I hope he’ll turn out to be Armon’s contact. If he does, I’ll ensure that he gives us whatever information he has: where the stone was headed, to whom—maybe even who wrote the ransom notes.”

Pensively, Courtney studied Slayde, pondered the fervor of his quest. “You’re still hoping it’s Morland. And that by proving he orchestrated this scheme, you’ll avenge not only Papa’s death, but your parents’ as well.”

Slayde nodded stiffly. “Yes. I’d be lying if I said otherwise. But it’s not hope I feel, it’s conviction. I truly believe the Bencrofts are murderers, twice over.”

“I know you do.” Courtney’s earlier surge of hope wavered in light of the realization that, by publicly announcing the Huntleys’ forfeit of the black diamond, she was giving Slayde only a portion of what he craved. She’d be ensuring his family’s safety, yes, but what he truly lacked, what he needed to make him whole, was peace—a peace he could acquire only by resolving the past and letting it go.

Which meant finding his parents’ killers.

So be it. Ever so slowly, Courtney’s chin came up. She was well now, with no one to answer to and no responsibilities, other than serving as Aurora’s companion. In light of that, why couldn’t she do for Slayde precisely what he was trying to do for her?

She could and she would.

Hope resurged, full force, along with the second part of her decision. Not only would she eliminate the stigma of the Huntley curse, she’d do her damnedest to learn who killed Slayde’s parents.

And she’d begin with the Duke of Morland.

“Courtney?” Slayde was frowning. “Have I upset you?”

“No. Not at all.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me. When did you intend to leave for Dartmouth?”