Andrea Kane by Legacy of the Diamond Page A

their greed.”
    “You think whoever killed your parents wanted the diamond for the wealth they’d derive from it?”
    “Of course. ’Twas no secret that the jewel is worth a king’s ransom. Nor that my great-grandfather was the last known man to possess it, and that he never delivered it to the Russian prince. The mystery was, where did he hide the stone? That, no one knew. So, for four generations, thieves and barbarians have done all they could—including commit murder—to uncover the whereabouts of the wretched gem.”
    “Did your great-grandfather die before he could tell anyone the truth?”
    “Yes. According to my father, he died less than a week after returning to England.”
    “How?” Courtney murmured. “How did he die?”
    “He was dashed on the rocks at the foot of Dartmouth Cliffs.”
    Courtney tensed, and Slayde anticipated her next question even as she uttered it. “Was he … alone?”
    “If you mean, was he pushed, no one knows. There were no witnesses.” Unconsciously, Slayde tightened his arms about Courtney. “Each successive generation of Huntleys has endured bloodshed. We’ve also enjoyed a sizable, ever-increasing fortune. So, according to those who believe in myths, the curse has come to pass.”
    “But two days ago, you turned the black diamond over to that despicable pirate, so the curse should end for you.”
    “Should it? Not when the true curse is the hatred spawned generations ago and furthered by the Bencrofts. Trust me, Courtney, that hatred will never end.”
    “ ‘He with a black heart…’ ” she recited thoughtfully. “The Bencrofts think of your great-grandfather as such for deceiving Geoffrey Bencroft and disappearing with the stone.”
    “Yes. And they despise us because of it. You see, from the moment the diamond left Geoffrey’s hands, the Bencroft fortune began dissipating. Each successive loss they suffered heightened their resentment. And there wasn’t a bloody thing we could do to alter that. True, my great-grandfather cheated Geoffrey out of his half of the diamond’s worth. But he also never sold the stone or reaped any actual profits, so after his death, we had no tangible fortune to share with the Bencrofts. Further, we couldn’t turn the stone over to them even if we’d wished to; we hadn’t a clue where it was hidden. Consequently, we had no way of righting his wrong.”
    “And they didn’t accept that as truth?”
    “Not for a minute. And any hope my family had of appeasing their hatred was quickly snuffed out. Less than a fortnight after my great-grandfather’s demise, word reached England that Geoffrey Bencroft had succumbed to a fever and died on his journey home. From that moment on, the Bencrofts’ enmity intensified to the point of obsession—violent obsession. Of course, at the heart of that obsession lay Geoffrey’s son, Chilton, the new Duke of Morland. New to his title, but not his role,” Slayde clarified. “Chilton had been the acting head of his family for years, running the estates and businesses while his father gallivanted about the globe. By the time Geoffrey died, Chilton’s reputation amongst members of the ton was notorious. He was ruthless in his dealings—and the Huntleys became his prime target. He used every opportunity to malign our name and thwart our business ventures. It maddened him beyond reason when each attempt not only failed, but resulted in further gains for us and more abject poverty for them.
    “One month before my parents’ deaths, Chilton’s mind snapped. He and his only son Lawrence—the current Duke of Morland—forced their way into Pembourne and invaded my father’s study. Lawrence hung back, enraged but willing—no, more than willing, grateful—to leave the verbal assault to his father, while he himself tossed off a bottle of madeira and paced sullenly about the room. In contrast, Chilton raved like a madman, shouting accusations about how my family had destroyed the Bencrofts and