She laughed. “Tell me, then: are countesses permitted such abandoned behavior in the bedroom?”
“Absolutely. ’Tis a requirement of the peerage.”
“I see.” Courtney’s shoulders were shaking. “And are countesses permitted to ravish their poor, unsuspecting earl husbands repeatedly?”
“Without so much as a moment’s recovery time.”
“Ah. And are countesses—”
“Yes.” Slayde covered her mouth with his, kissing her until her breath was coming in quick, heated pants. “Most definitely—yes.”
“Very well, then,” Courtney managed to say, quivering as Slayde hardened inside her. “I suppose I’ll adapt.”
“Slayde?” Courtney whispered, securely nestled in the warm circle of his arms.
“Hmm?”
“Earlier, when you spoke about your confrontation with Morland, the sudd
en change in your perspective—what caused it?”
Slayde gathered her closer, gazing across the dimly-lit room. “Several things: you, the new depth of understanding your love has brought me…” A smile. “And a very unusual cup of tea.”
Courtney twisted about, raising up so she could make out Slayde’s expression. “You went to see Mr. Scollard.”
“I did indeed.”
“Oh, Slayde.” She flung her arms about his neck. “I’m so glad.”
“So am I, actually. He’s astounding, your Mr. Scollard. ’Tis as if he can see inside you. Oh, speaking of seeing,” Slayde teased, caressing Courtney’s cheek, “I evidently both see and hear quite well now. Whatever deficiency I had is gone. According to Mr. Scollard, I’ve found my way.” All teasing vanished, supplanted by an emotion too vast to contain. “Thank God that way led to you.”
Courtney’s eyes misted. “ ’Tis the same for us as it was for Mama and Papa—you, the ship, and I, the lighthouse. Neither is complete without the other.” She brushed her lips to Slayde’s, her prayer as reverent as his. “Thank God we both found our course.”
Her choice of analogies reminded Slayde of the fierce commitment he’d sworn to fulfill. “I’m going to make everything right, Courtney,” he vowed fervently. “You’ll see.”
Puzzled, she searched his face, somehow sensing he referred to more than just the mystery they had yet to resolve. “I know you will.” A speculative pause. “Tell me about your visit with Mr. Scollard.”
Damn, but her insight was staggering.
Warning bells sounded, and Slayde cautioned himself to tread carefully, to refrain from any mention of Arthur Johnston and the possibility that he was alive. “I stopped by on my way to confront Morland. Mr. Scollard was expecting me.”
“Naturally,” Courtney murmured.
“He congratulated me on our forthcoming marriage and on my amazing transformation. Then he made me tea.”
Courtney grinned. “Given your preference for rational explanation, you must have been utterly astounded.”
“At first, yes. But once I stopped grappling with what I couldn’t understand and just accepted it, I began enjoying our chat. He commended me on leaving Oridge to oversee you and Aurora, and urged me to go on to Morland, to face my ghosts.” Slayde’s expression darkened. “He did caution me that after today, I was not to leave you alone, that you would be in danger. When he said those words, I nearly gave up the idea of riding to Newton Abbot and dashed back to Pembourne. But Scollard insisted that, for this one day, you’d be fine without my protection. Now that I consider it, he already knew Morland was innocent. He also knew that I had to recognize it for myself. His exact words when he sent me off were ‘So long as you’re confronting the duke, the peril will be held at bay.’ Naturally, I assumed he meant the peril and Morland were one and the same; that if Morland was at home, engaged in a confrontation with me, he couldn’t be at Pembourne hurting you. But when I verbalized that thought, Scollard replied, ‘Those are your words, not mine.’ If that wasn’t an allusion to the fact that my suspicions were misdirected, I don’t know what was.”
“Yet you didn’t realize it then.”
“No,” Slayde admitted. “I suppose, as Scollard said, I had to clear my mind of the shadows that obstructed my sight in order to see what was truly there, not what I chose to see.”
“He’s a wonderful man, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He’s also worried sick about you.” Slayde sifted his fingers through Courtney’s hair. “So am I. Every reference he made led back to the fact that the danger lies at Pembourne. And not only as far as the traitor we’re harboring—although Scollard did sense that bastard’s clawing fear—but as far as our main quarry as well. Scollard kept using phrases such as Outside—heartlessness and obsession haunting your doorstep’ and ‘ruthlessness hovers at its portals.’ Again, given that I believed Morland was the culprit, I assumed those references were to his drunken visit to Pembourne, his intentions to return. But now, with Morland eliminated as a suspect, we have to view Mr. Scollard’s insights in a new light.”
Courtney paled. “You believe that whoever’s at the helm of these horrible crimes is close by?”