Aurora's jaw dropped—as clear an admission as if she'd spoken it aloud. "Are you sure the name Merlin is derived from the falcon and not the prophet? There seems to be nothing you don't know."
"I'm sure." Julian recaptured her fingers, pressing her palm to his lips. "Speaking of falcons, how is it you know of the merlin?"
"My great-grandfather raised falcons. Our library is filled with books about them. I never leave Pembourne, so I have endless hours to read. Why do you want to marry me?"
Her forthrightness was almost as bewitching as her beauty.
And her revelation supplied yet another piece of an ever-growing puzzle—one Julian was determined to solve.
"Why do I want to marry you?" he murmured truthfully. "Many reasons. This is one." He kissed the pulse at her wrist.
"Stop." She jerked her hand from his, clutching the folds of her lilac morning dress and tilting her head back to meet his gaze. "Your Grace…"
"Julian," he corrected.
"Julian. From what I know of you, you're a very independent man who spends his life sailing the world on one adventure or another. In addition, judging from that barmaid's reaction to you last night, I doubt you're ever at a loss for willing female companionship."
"I notice you haven't yet mentioned that I'm a Bencroft."
"I was getting to that. Your name—and mine—are the best reasons for us to stay as far apart as possible. So why are you here asking for my hand?"
Her spirit, her candor—she was the most innocently arousing woman he'd ever met, Julian decided. He captured a strand of her hair, rubbed its silky texture between his fingers, consciously aware of the fact that he couldn't seem to stop touching her. "Aside from the minor detail that we were discovered at the village tavern, in a private room, on a bed, and in each other's arms? Very well, Rory." Another grin. "Let's explore my reasons by employing that extraordinary honesty of yours. Can you tell me you didn't feel what I felt when we kissed?"
"Can you tell me you've never experienced that feeling before?"
"Yes. I can tell you I've never experienced that feeling before." Even as he uttered the words, Julian knew they were true.
Aurora searched his face, as if trying to assess his sincerity and his motives.
"Shall I be more specific?" Julian probed huskily. "Very well. I scarcely tasted your mouth and I burst into flames. I couldn't get enough of you—your taste, your scent, the feel of you in my arms. I lost all sense of reality to the point where the world ceased to exist other than you. I never even heard your brother's approach."
"Nor did I," Aurora confessed softly, her voice filled with wonder rather than embarrassment. "I felt everything you just described, and more. But, Your Gr… Julian, that's hardly a basis for a marriage."
"No, but it's a damned good start—especially since that kiss resulted in a scandal far more extensive than even you imagined when you walked into Dawlish's."
She sighed. "Yes—that. I'm too impulsive. 'Tis my worst fault—well, one of my worst faults."
"I'm looking forward to discovering the others." Julian's palm slid around to caress her nape. "Aurora, you're not a coward. Don't run from me. I'll give you everything you want—freedom, adventure, excitement…" He lowered his head, brushed her lips with his. "…Passion. I'll open the doors to a world you never knew existed. All you have to do is say yes."
Aurora drew back, clearly torn between desire and pragmatism. "We're virtual strangers."
"One word from you will change that."
She sucked in her breath. "Did Slayde actually agree to this? Scandal or not, the bitterness he feels for your family would preclude…" She broke free of Julian's touch, turned away.
"Go on," Julian urged, watching her spine stiffen, knowing at the same time that this was one issue that had to be addressed—for many reasons.
"'Tis nearly eleven years since my parents were murdered," Aurora stated. "I'm sure you know all the details—'twas hardly a secret. Slayde found them lying amid pools of blood in Pembourne's hallway. They'd been driven through by a sword. And for what? For possession of a diamond they'd never even seen, much less stashed away. A jewel the Bencrofts insisted we had." Her voice quavered, then strengthened again. "My poor implacable brother. He was already so intense, so damned autonomous. From that day on, those qualities magnified threefold as did his restlessness. He assumed the role of my guardian with a fervor that bordered on obsessive, sequestering me here at Pembourne amid a swarm of guards paid to ensure I never left the e
state, while Slayde traveled the world, returning to Pembourne as seldom as possible."
"That must have been very painful for you," Julian said quietly, visualizing a frightened little girl who'd just lost both her parents and had to mourn them all alone, without the comfort of a brother who had none to offer. "Very painful and very difficult."
"It was—all of it. Not just my parents' deaths, but the terror of knowing their murderer was still out there, as were others who would kill to unearth the black diamond. Worst of all was the loneliness. Oh, I understood Slayde's motivation, but that made my isolation no less bearable. Without Mr. Scollard, I think I would have lost my mind."
"Who is Mr. Scollard?"
"The Windmouth lighthouse keeper—and my dearest friend. Other than Courtney, that is." Warmth flooded Aurora's tone. "Courtney's arrival in our lives changed everything. For Slayde and for me. She brought us love, constancy—she made us a family. She also effected a lull in the danger, publicly declaring that the black diamond was no longer in Huntley possession. Because of that brilliant tactic—added to the miracle of her love and now the child she's carrying—Slayde changed, softened, and finally relaxed his obsessive need to envelope me in a cocoon of safety." Aurora's hands balled into fists at her sides. "Until now, when his obsession was rekindled by your father's ravings, his blind accusations. It's all begun anew … the ransom notes, the threats, the attempted burglaries…"