The Black Diamond (Black Diamond 2)

* * *

"Now, what questions can I answer for you?" Guillford inquired, steering the phaeton along the winding road, the pistol close by his side, lest Aurora make any attempt to escape.

Aurora studied his profile, wondering if he were totally composed or thoroughly insane. "I have dozens of questions. Beginning with: What do you want? Why are you kidnapping me? How do you know of Macall? Where are you taking me?" She drew a breath. "Shall I continue?"

Guillford looked distinctly amused. "That won't be necessary. I must admit, Aurora, you intrigue me. Had we wed, I believe you would have kept me thoroughly entertained. Taming you, however, that would have been a far more difficult task. Still, it might have been worth it. Your fire in my bed, your wealth in my keeping—perhaps I should have overlooked your indiscretion with Julian Bencroft and married you, tainted or not. The ton might have frowned, but only for a time. Eventually they would have forgotten the circumstances surrounding our marriage. Then I could have had it all."

"That doesn't answer my questions," Aurora retorted, ignoring his absurd fantasy. "Other than perhaps, the 'why'. Is it all for money?"

"Isn't everything? 'Tis either money or passion. And if you ask me, the former is far more valuable than the latter—and much harder to attain. But then, some men are fortunate enough to have both. Men like Julian Bencroft. Julian Bencroft and your brother, Slayde."

"Slayde?" Aurora started. "Where does Slayde fit into all this?"

"He's a Huntley. A wealthy, successful—damned lucky Huntley. That's how he fits into all this."

"You do business with him."

A harsh chuckle. "No, in this case, he does business with me. Or rather, for me. I reap a profit, he loses an investment. It works out quite nicely."

"I don't understand."

"Then let me explain. Did Slayde mention that splendid stallion I brought to his attention at our meeting the other day? 'Twas the reason I was at Pembourne—that, and to assess what I could learn about the whereabouts of that bloody black diamond."

The whereabouts of the black diamond? Aurora's head began swimming as she assimilated the viscount's words, more questions forming, tumbling over each other to be heard. But she stifled them, sensing that the only way to acquire her answers was to let the viscount maneuver their conversation in whatever direction he chose—beginning with the thoroughbred he planned to buy. "If I remember correctly, Slayde said you were interested in purchasing the stallion but couldn't, given that your assets were tied up elsewhere," she replied. "So he agreed to put up the money, then collect whatever profits were necessary to earn back his investment. After which you'd split all future profits equally."

"Ah, but the real truth is that your brother's investment will in fact become my profit the instant he places that draft in my hand."

"You're saying you have no intention of purchasing the horse."

"Quick as ever, my dear. And quite right. I plan to purchase nothing other than the cooperation of a greedy stable owner, whose allegiance costs but a few wretched pounds. My instructions to him will be as follows: should the Earl of Pembourne appear at his stables asking to have a look at our joint venture, show it to him—making sure he has no reason to doubt that the incomparable stallion does indeed belong to the two of us."

"What of the supposed winnings the stallion will earn?"

"Oh, the spirited fellow needs a breaking-in period, followed by weeks of training. He won't be ready to race for well over a month, which is more than enough time to keep your brother in the dark. After all, you and I both know Slayde is glued to his wife's side until the birth of their babe. By the time your brother becomes even mildly curious about the status of our investment, I'll have acquired a king's ransom from which I can easily pay him back—thanks to you."

Thanks to me? Aurora mused silently. That certainly reeks of blackmail. She inclined her head, studying the shadowed lines of Guillford's profile, the rigid set of his jaw. Careful, she cautioned herself. Follow his lead. 'Tis the only way to learn all I can. "So in effect, you're planning to steal Slayde's money—at least temporarily. Why? What is it you plan to do with it?"

"Extricate myself from debt."

Aurora's jaw dropped. "Debt? With your wealth?"

"My onetime wealth," Guillford corrected bitterly. "I'd hoped that between Camden's soliciting skills and Slayde's ready money, I could repay my creditors and regain a portion of my depleted fortune—the sum total of which is virtually impossible to recoup without benefit of the black diamond, thanks to Julian Bencroft."

"So that's why you were with Mr. Camden when we visited him," Aurora murmured. "You were seeking his help to…" She broke off, her chin coming up as the final part of Guillford's statement sank in. "Julian? Where does Julian fit into all this?"

"Your husband has undone every bloody thing I've attempted, from seizing that painting out from under me to snatching away my sole chance of acquiring the black diamond—you."

Aurora sucked in her breath, unable to restrain herself any longer. "That's the third time you've made reference to the black diamond. First you said that discovering its whereabouts was one of your reasons for coming to Pembourne the other day. Then you said you needed it to recoup your fortune. And now you've implied that I would have been your link to the stone. Am I to conclude I've just stumbled upon the true reason you asked for my hand—because you believed Lawrence Bencroft's ludicrous claim that the Huntleys truly did possess the black diamond? Is that why you were so devastated when my indiscretion made it impossible for you to wed me?"

"Of course. But don't make me sound such a cad. 'Tis also the reason why your beloved Julian compromised you to the point where you had no choice but to marry him." Guillford shot her a sidelong glance, his eyes glittering as he perceived her disbelief. "Come now, Aurora. Don't let whatever feelings you have for your husband blind you to the truth. Your Julian knew just what he was doing when he took you to bed in that seedy pub. Just as he knew what he was doing when he publicly retracted his father's claim—which he did only after Lawrence's death when the inebriated fool could no longer defend himself—and only after securing your hand in marriage. That put a quick end to the widespread search that had recommenced as a result of Lawrence's accusation. And it ensured that the black diamond remained right where Julian wanted it: with his prospective bride, whose assets have now become his. The question is, where is the stone now? Did the wretched mercenary stash it at his manor in Polperro? Or did the two of you hide it somewhere, bury it away so as to safeguard it from scoundrels such as myself?"

Pieces were falling into place like rapid cannon fire. "When Julian and I left Pembourne for Morland—you were the one following us," Aurora realized aloud. "You thought we were en route to the black diamond, to either conceal or unearth it."

"So your husband did sense my presence. I was afraid of that when I saw him head for Morland Manor rather than continuing your journey to wherever the diamond is hidden."

"We weren't going…" Aurora stopped herself. There was no point in trying to convince the man; he was clinging too tightly to his groundless obsession. Besides, another implication spawned by his earlier statement was plaguing her too fiercely to ignore any longer. "A painting…" she muttered. "You said Julian seized a painting out from under you. What painting?"

"An incredibly valuable one. One that would have reversed my run of bad luck, restored my former way of life—my wealth, my stature. Why, I could have sold that treasure for ten times what I paid those two small-minded privateers to uncover it. Stupid fools. They uncovered the painting, all right—just as planned. But before they could transport it home and deliver it into my eager hands, the ever-scrupulous Merlin swooped down, confiscated the painting—to return it to its rightful owner, of course—and killed one of my men in the process. Damn Julian Bencroft. Damn those stupid fools for not being able to outwit him. And damn me for making the same mistake twice, hiring the surviving dolt yet again—this time to kill Bencroft a