The Black Diamond (Black Diamond 2)

"Hugh was the finest man I'd ever known—principled, compassionate, wise beyond his years, even as a child."

"Were the two of you close?"

"We were as different as day and night. Hugh was even-tempered, composed. I was opinionated, wild. He was as stable and traditional as the heir apparent he would have become; I, on the other hand, was restless, impatient—disinterested in the estate, the businesses, and a title that meant as little to me as the unsavory man who held it. Hugh chose to overlook—no, I suppose a better choice of words would be that he chose to accept, though never share—our father's utter lack of scruples. I didn't, couldn't. Nor could I understand Hugh's tolerance. He himself was such a decent, moral man. But he believed in loyalty to one's family; that was one of his most fervent principles. Now that I think of it, I suppose the only traits my brother and I truly had in common were our commitment to our respective principles and our devotion to each other." Julian lowered his gaze, stared at the floor. "I wish we'd also shared my good health and strong constitution. But we didn't. Hugh was as frail as I was hardy. I scarcely recall a time when he wasn't either ill or recovering from an illness. I used to lie awake at night listening to his coughs and wishing I could share some of my vigor with him. Unfortunately it wasn't possible. When he died…" A shrug. "…the last filament connecting me with Morland Manor was severed."

A lump formed in Aurora's throat. "I remember the year he died," she said quietly. "I was young, but I vividly recall Slayde relaying the news to my parents when he returned from Oxford on holiday. He was terribly upset, family differences or not. Clearly he thought very highly of your brother."

"Slayde was decent as hell when Hugh died, despite the hatred that existed between our families. I've never forgotten him for that. I never will."

"As I said, you and Slayde are alike in many ways."

"Including our commitment to our families—at least those members of our families who need and deserve that commitment. Slayde would give his life to protect yours. I didn't have that option; I couldn't save Hugh no matter how hard I prayed, how desperately I tried. But I'll be damned if I'll let his name be tarnished—either by my father and grandfather's evil or by a theft that was never committed. So, yes—I intend to restore Hugh's honor. I only wish to God I could restore his life."

Aurora couldn't help it. She went to Julian, her palms caressing his forearms. "Hugh's honor is as intact as your feelings for him. Neither need be restored. Why would you believe otherwise?"

"Because as my father cleverly pointed out, Hugh's honor is no longer his to demonstrate but mine to reestablish."

"Why would Lawrence say that?"

"To get me to do his bidding. And the damned thing about it is, the bastard's reasoning was sound. Every wretched word of it."

"He conveyed all this to you after Hugh's death?"

"No—after his own."

Aurora sucked in her breath. "I don't understand."

"Let me fill in the missing pieces, then." Now that Julian had begun talking, he seemed unable to stop. "My great-grandfather isn't the only one who bequeathed me a formidable challenge the day I asked Slayde for your hand. When Henry delivered Geoffrey's strongbox to Morland Manor, I also had the dubious privilege of hearing my father's will read. He, too, left me something—only in his case it was hardly a gift." Aurora felt Julian's arms tense. "He bequeathed me the curse of the black diamond, dared me to find the stone and undo the curse. And he accomplished precisely what he sought: my cooperation. How? By reminding me that it was not only my name and his that were sullied, it was my brother Hugh's as well. That until the stone's theft was resolved, Hugh's name would always be associated with a tarnished past. And that as the last remaining Bencroft, I was the only one who could right this heinous wrong—not for him, but for Hugh. He was right. As were you when you guessed I had another motivation for wanting to find that bloody diamond. I do. And that motivation is my brother."

"Lawrence blackmailed you into finding the stone?" Aurora repeated, stunned that even a scoundrel such as Lawrence would stoop so low. "He actually taunted you into

feeling it was your responsibility to clear Hugh's name?"

"I'm immune to my father's barbs, Aurora. At least those aimed at me and those without basis. But consider it. As the last living Bencroft—and a man who cares not for his own reputation but for his brother's—whose responsibility is it to protect Hugh's memory if not mine?"

As livid as Aurora was, she couldn't argue with Julian's logic. Whether or not the burden he now carried was undeserved, it was his nonetheless. "No wonder you were hell-bent on convincing me to marry you," she murmured.

"That wasn't my only reason."

"I know," she assured him quickly. "I didn't mean to imply that it was. Nor am I surprised by your motives. As I said, I knew something personal was driving you. I simply didn't know what. Now I do." Her small jaw set. "But if I hated Lawrence Bencroft before, I could kill him now."

"Because of me?"

"Weren't you the one who just spoke of protecting one's family?" Aurora demanded. "Well, you're my husband. Doesn't it stand to reason that I'd want to protect you, too?"

A tiny flame warmed Julian's eyes. "Yes, soleil, I suppose it does." He drew her against him, pressed her head to his waistcoat. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She smiled, elated that she'd actually made some progress in her attempts to penetrate Julian's stubborn emotional wall. "See? Sharing your feelings is a great deal like making love. It only hurts the first time, and only for an instant. After that it's sheer pleasure."

Julian's laughter rumbled against her ear. "I'll take your word for it, soleil."

"See that you do." Aurora's gaze fell on the sketchbook. "Hugh was a very talented artist."

"Yes, he was." Julian released her, bending to scoop up the pad. "He had an incredible flair for detail. In that way, 'twas he, not I, who took after Geoffrey."

"Your great-grandfather sketched?"

"Not in the true sense of the word, no. Still, I'd say he was quite good. Wouldn't you?" Julian pointed at the wall, where a detailed sketch of Morland's grounds hung.