That Infamous Pearl (16 page)

"You are by far
the most precious thing in this gallery, Rowena," he continued. "You
must understand how greatly I value you."

She trembled. He had
not mentioned love, but perhaps this was as close as Alaric could come to
admitting that he had some sort of affection for her. Or maybe he said that he
valued her because that was precisely how he felt about her; she was a sign of
his ultimate triumph over her family and a valuable addition to his collection,
a symbol of Alaric's determination to always obtain what he desired. She
searched his eyes again, hoping for some sign of what he meant.

Alaric smiled gently.
Rowena looked confused, nervous, and incredibly desirable. He could see the
concern warring with the passion in her gaze. It was important that he find a
way to make the passion win. The thought of another night without her was
unbearable. Last night he had been drunk, and that was a state of oblivion he
would have to find again if Rowena did not take pity on him soon.

But it would not do
to frighten her now. He had made a good start, and he must act on it. "Come,
let us look at more of the gallery. We have barely covered half of it."

Rowena started and then
slowly took the hand he offered her. "Did you mean what you said?"
she asked in a small voice.

"About your
beauty? Of course I did. I believe I once told you I do not say things I do not
mean. You may count on me for honesty, Rowena."

She paused at a painting
of a naked woman lounging on a couch, her hand reaching seductively out of the
painting. She flushed slightly and turned away, moving hastily on to the next
piece.

"You have not
always been honest with me," she said slowly.

"When have I
ever lied to you, Rowena?" Alaric sounded hurt.

"You let me
think you believed Malcolm was innocent," she said, her voice gaining
strength. "I thought you were truly trying to help me."

Alaric gritted his
teeth. Trust Rowena to remember the one time he had abandoned his principles.
He had done it for her, after all. It was the only way he could think of to
make her spend time with him. And he had needed desperately to be near her,
though that had been only a fraction of the need he felt now.

"I apologize for
that deception," he said softly. "It was wrong of me to treat you so.
My only excuse is that I desired to spend time with you, and could think of no
other way to obtain my goal."

"And is
obtaining your desires always of paramount importance with you?" asked
Rowena. "That will be very difficult to adapt myself to. Occasionally
there are things that I want as well." She didn't look at him, but instead
inspected closely a lovely medieval wood carving of the Virgin.

Alaric paused. He
chose his words carefully. "I did not have anyone to think of beside
myself and I admit that I lived my life selfishly. Now your desires are as
important as mine, Rowena. If there is anything you want, I will make sure that
you have it."

"Anything?"
she asked.

"Anything at
all. You have only to ask for it. Have I not given you what you have asked for
so far?"

Rowena smiled slowly,
thinking of his promise of the day before. "Indeed you have. You are a
most generous husband."

Alaric grimaced. If
he could not talk Rowena into succumbing soon, he would have to get far away
from her as quickly as possible. Perhaps the gaming halls would see the Earl of
Brayleigh for a second night in a row.

"Rowena, you
must believe me when I say that I want only your happiness. I have made that my
primary goal from today onward."

Her violet eyes
flashed as she glanced up at him. His face was very stern, almost as though it
was carved from stone. She longed to reach up and touch it to assure herself he
was indeed made of flesh and blood. The thought made her tingle.

She paused before a
very elegant piece of furniture, elaborately carved in the style of the
previous century and upholstered in rich blue satin.

"What is this?"
she asked.

Alaric stifled a
groan. Her interest in his collection was beginning to tax his patience. He
wanted all of her attention for himself.

"This belonged
to Louis XV of France," he explained. "Or, actually, it is said to
have belonged to his mistress, Madame de la Pompadour. I purchased it because
it is a particularly fine example of the craftsman's art."

Rowena nodded. "La
Pompadour was a legendary beauty. Perhaps she and the king sat together on this
couch."

"Perhaps,"
said Alaric, thinking of other activities the notorious couple might have
engaged in on the settee.

Rowena swung around
on Alaric and looked up at him accusingly. "Do you promise not to deceive
me again?" she asked abruptly.

Alaric blinked. "What
do you mean?"

"Will you
promise never to lie to me again?" Rowena looked quite fierce.

Alaric thought about
what she asked. "There are times when it might be in your best interest if
you did not know everything," he said. "I must protect you, Rowena. I
know a great deal more about the world than you do."

"There. That is
precisely the problem. I cannot be married to a man who insists that unpleasant
realities need to be kept from me. We must be equal partners, my lord."
Rowena flung her hands up in the air.

"Equal partners?"
Alaric's voice reflected his amazement. "In a marriage?"

"Precisely. This
is why our investigation did not succeed before. You kept important facts from
me. If I had known the whole truth, perhaps we might have done better. It is
important that you tell me everything."

"But Rowena,
there are matters that a gentleman does not share with a woman, even his wife,"
said Alaric, flustered.

"That is the
problem with most marriages. My parents told one another everything, and they
were very happy."

"They did not
tell you that Malcolm was alive. They must have realized the need for
occasional secrets." Alaric pointed out.

"And see the
harm that caused?" said Rowena. "If they had been honest with me
matters would be quite different today. You and I might have avoided this hasty
marriage. If we are to be husband and wife, my lord, you must promise to keep
no secrets from me."

Alaric hesitated. He
was startled and mildly irritated by Rowena's surprising demand. A man did not
tell his wife everything; it was unreasonable that she should expect it of him.
But when he looked into her determined face he could see that she meant what
she said.

"Very well,
Rowena. I will not deceive you again."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise,"
he said firmly. "Now you must believe me."

"I do, my lord.
I have faith in your word."

Rowena turned away, a
smile on her face. She looked so young and carefree at that moment, and Alaric
felt a sudden surge of satisfaction that he had made her so. He reached out
with one hand and touched her shoulder, his hand gliding softly along the bare
flesh.

"And now you
must promise me something," he said.

Rowena froze, her
thoughts concentrated solely on the pressure of his fingers on her skin. She
suddenly became aware once of again of how very alone they were.

"What is that?"
she asked in a muffled voice.

"That you will
rid yourself of this dreadful habit of calling me 'my lord'," he answered.
"I find it quite intolerable. I believe I have spoken to you about it
before."

"Oh. That."
Rowena's voice sounded oddly disappointed. "But I have told you it is
difficult to call you by your name until I know you better. 'Alaric' does not
come easily to my lips, I fear."

"Then you must
practice it. You have called me Alaric upon occasion." He thought of the
time in her aunt's garden, and again yesterday when she thought she had hurt
him.

"That is only
when my mind is on other things," she said hastily. "But I will try
to practice, my lord."

She clapped a hand
over her mouth as the words escaped her, and a mischievous twinkle stole into
her eyes. Alaric laughed.

"I must make you
think of other things then, I see." He hand tightened on her shoulder, and
he gently, irresistibly turned her towards him. She dropped her eyes when she
stood facing him, and he had to place one hand under her chin and raise it
before she would look at him.

"I believe I can
do that quite easily," he murmured. "I have had some experience along
those lines."

Rowena awoke to
bright sunlight invading her bedroom, slipping in between the heavy curtains to
make delicate patterns on the carpet. She stretched lazily, a sense of
contentment filling her. For a moment she couldn't recall why she felt so
happy, but then remembrance flooded her, and she pressed her eyes closed again,
still feeling some lingering embarrassment.

Smiling shyly, she
finally rolled over, but the other side of her bed was empty. She frowned at
the rumpled sheets and the pillow that still bore the imprint of Alaric's head.
A pang of fear touched her. What if he hadn't enjoyed himself the night before?
She reached urgently for the bell and rang it vigorously.

Lawson entered the
room a few moments later, a bright smile on her face. The household had gauged
his lordship's mood that morning sufficiently to know that all had gone well
the night before. She was astounded, however, to see her mistress standing in
the middle of the room, quite naked except for a thin lace wrapper and some
barbaric-looking rubies clasped about her throat and wrist. She stood and gaped
at Rowena for a moment.

"Don't stare
like that, Lawson," said Rowena, her voice sharp with alarm. "Where
is his lordship?"

"Downstairs
eating breakfast, my lady," said Lawson soothingly. "He told me to
let you sleep until you rang for me."

Some of Rowena's
anxiety left her. He was still in the house. She took a calming breath. "Hurry,
I must get dressed," she said. "I don't wish to keep him waiting."

Lawson walked over to
Rowena and led her to the dressing table. "I don't think he's fretting, my
lady. He seems quite content to wait for you. His lordship is quite pleased
this morning, if you don't mind my saying so."

Rowena subsided onto
the stool and looked up at Lawson with wide eyes. "Pleased?" she
said.

"Why, he was
smiling and ever so pleasant," said Lawson soothingly.

"I must get
dressed immediately," said Rowena, suddenly anxious to verify this
information. She picked up a brush and tried to tug it through her tangled
curls.

"There, my lady,
you'll let me take care of you. You can't go downstairs until you're properly
dressed. Let me sort you out." Lawson hesitated. "Shall I take off
the jewelry, my lady?"

Rowena gasped and
looked in the mirror. The necklace and bracelet that Alaric had clasped about
her with such tender words the night before still adorned her, making her look
like some sort of exotic princess. She blushed deeply, causing Lawson to give
her a knowing smile.

"Yes, please,"
she said hastily. "Put it safely in my jewelry box. And fetch the new
muslin. Oh, and don't dawdle, Lawson."

But it was fully
three-quarters of an hour before Rowena hastened down the stairs to the dining
room. Lawson had refused to allow her out of the room until she was completely
groomed and dressed in a manner that brought credit to her maid. The delicate muslin
of her dress foamed about her white shoulders and her eyes sparkled brilliantly
as she flung open the door to the dining room. Alaric looked up from his
breakfast and paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, quite captivated by the
sight.

Rowena paused,
overcome by sudden shyness. She had been incredibly eager to see Alaric that
morning, but now she had no idea what to say to him. Alaric put his fork down,
slowly, rose, and walked gracefully to her side. He took her small hand in his
and raised it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to it.

"Good morning,
Rowena." She felt a tiny thrill at the intimate tone in his voice. His
eyes roamed over her, and she could tell he was remembering what he had seen
the night before.

"Good
morning...Alaric," she answered, her voice very soft. Then she gave
herself a mental shake. It would not do for him to think she was pining for
him. Despite the pleasures of the previous evening, he had not yet said one
word to her of any affection he might have for her. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very well,"
he answered, smiling warmly. "The best I have in weeks."

Rowena flushed a
little at his intimation, and disentangled her fingers from his. "I am
glad. I also slept well."

Alaric pulled a chair
out from the table and seated her. "I thought you might. You certainly
looked charming this morning, wearing nothing but the rubies, nestled against
my chest. It was all I could do not to wake you in order to repeat last night's
experience."

Rowena turned
scarlet. "My lord, the servants," she said in a very small voice. She
had to get control of herself. It would not do for him to be able to put her at
such a disadvantage.

He reached out and
took her wrist in a tender grip. "They know better than to disturb us. We
are all alone and will be so for as long as I choose."

Rowena's eyes
flickered to the door. It was firmly shut. A tiny thrill shot through her.

"All alone?"
she repeated.

Alaric laughed. "Don't
look at me like that, or I won't be responsible for my actions. And I have to
go out for a few minutes."

Rowena frowned.
Alaric's promise, while making her slightly nervous, was also enticing. But the
last part of his statement did not reassure her.

"Where are you
going? I thought we were going to spend some time together."

"As much time as
you desire, my dear. Your every wish is mine," Alaric assured her. "But
I have to speak to my lawyer. There is some business I need to attend to."

"Will you be
gone long?"

"Not at all. I
will be back before you have finished eating. Then perhaps we will go for a
ride in the Park." He gazed down at her speculatively. "Or maybe we
will find some other activity to occupy ourselves."

Rowena glanced down
at her plate to avoid the devilish gleam in his brilliant green eyes. She was
glad that he seemed to be pleased with her, but she decided that she must
remind him that there was more to her than the performance of her wifely
duties.

"Will you ask
Mr. Mackley if he has any new information on Ingram's murderer?" she asked
brightly. "I would like to be able to continue our investigation."

Alaric frowned and
seated himself. His long fingers tapped a gentle rhythm on the table.

"I thought we
had resolved this matter, Rowena." His voice was stern.

"The murderer is
still at large. I would hardly call that a resolution," observed Rowena.

Alaric shook his
head. He had hoped that last night's events would have driven the relentless
pursuit of Alfred Ingram's murderer from his wife's mind. It seemed, however,
that she was as determined as ever. He marveled at her devotion to the brother
she had not seen in twelve years. With a pang he realized that he wanted her
thoughts to be centered on him, not some imaginary hero she had conjured up.
But it seemed that Malcolm Arlingby was still fated to come between him and the
things he desired.

"The murderer is
indeed at large," answered Alaric. "His name is Malcolm Arlingby, and
he was last seen in France. You must accept this, Rowena. We cannot be happy
together until you do."

Rowena raised her
chin. She could not allow him to think that because she had given way the night
before he could rule her in all things. Her feelings for her husband might be
much stronger than his for her, but it was necessary that she keep some sort of
autonomy. Without it she would have no pride left at all.

"You have not a
shred of evidence to support your beliefs, my lord," she said fiercely. "I
insist we continue to search out the true murderer."

Alaric made an
exasperated sound. "I will not encourage you in this folly, Rowena. It is
nonsensical of you to believe that after all this time there is the slightest
chance of clearing Malcolm's name."

Rowena drew a deep
breath. "It is never too late to seek out the truth. I should think you
would want to have the real killer discovered as much as I do."

"The truth is
known. Your brother killed Ingram for the Pearl of Sirsi." Alaric tried to
speak dispassionately. Rowena didn't seem to realize that if Malcolm was not
guilty, then her husband must be the killer. Or perhaps she did know that. His
eyes narrowed. Was her sweetness and passion merely a lie to keep him under her
spell? Perhaps she had an ulterior motive in this marriage.

"I refuse to
accept that. No member of my family would intentionally hurt another person. No
one I know believes it is possible that Malcolm killed Ingram."

"But plenty of
people you have spoken to believe that it is possible that I might have. Are
you attempting to tell me that you share their feelings?" Alaric's hand
had clenched into a fist and his knuckles showed white.

Rowena swung her
startled gaze towards him. "No! Of course I believe no such thing. After
last night how could you accuse me of that?"

Alaric watched her
coolly. The surprise and alarm in her wide violet eyes seemed sincere enough.
But he was familiar with the duplicity of women. Marguerite had gazed deeply
into his eyes any number of times and lied with great conviction. The long
string of mistresses that had followed her had not served to reassure him as to
the honesty of the sex. Tears had been wielded as a weapon, smiles and
assurances of affection had proved to be no more than a cover for mercenary
grasping. Rowena's shocked countenance was no guarantee of her true feelings.

"It is quite
obvious to all the world that either Malcolm or I killed Ingram. If word gets
out that you are looking into his murder, not only will the entire
ton
be titillated, but the news will doubtless get back to Bow Street. You may do
far more than bring further disgrace to my reputation, Rowena. You might well
re-open the investigation. I have many enemies, you know." He paused, his
gaze fixed coldly on her startled face. "But perhaps that is your
intention. You more than once accused me of wishing to marry you for the sake
of revenge. It had not occurred to me until now that perhaps that was your
motive."

Rowena stared at him
in stunned silence. She could not believe what Alaric was saying. How could he
possibly believe her to be guilty of such duplicity? Unbidden tears rose to her
eyes. She had given herself to him freely last night, believing that perhaps
love could grow between them. And now he revealed that he could believe that
she had married him only to try to destroy him. How could she ever have thought
she could reach someone so cold and self-contained?

"Well, Rowena?
Do you have an answer for me?"

"How can I
possibly answer such an accusation?" Rowena's voice was shaking. "If
you believe that I could stoop to such a thing, I have no way of proving that I
would not. But I cannot imagine why you wished to marry me if you believe me capable
of such deviousness."

"You have thrown
the same accusation at me many times," observed Alaric. A great fury
welled up in him at the thought that the sweet young woman he married might
have been simply a figment of his imagination. Perhaps Rowena was not unusual;
perhaps she was like all the others. "Why am I the only one who might be
seeking revenge? Your devotion to your brother is so strong that I begin to
wonder if it is perhaps stronger than your affection for me."

Rowena's head snapped
up at that and her violet eyes, bright with unshed tears, met his icy ones. "How
dare you? After last night, how can you question my affection for you?"

Alaric laughed. The
ball of cold fear in the pit of his stomach was growing. Perhaps he had been a
fool, taken in by a resourceful adventuress. Rowena was a clever woman; their
entire courtship could have been a trap. "Your reactions to me mean
nothing, Rowena. You might have been as easily aroused by any man skilled in
the art of love. I seem to recall that before our marriage you responded to me
passionately. How do I know that you have not been intimate with many men
before?"

"But I was a
virgin! You know that!" Rowena was aghast at the accusations he was
throwing at her. She could see the chilly anger in his eyes and wondered
frantically what she had done to arouse it.

"It is not
necessary to lose your virginity in order to amuse yourself," said Alaric
coldly. "Have you trifled with many men before me, Rowena?"

Rowena stood up. Her
knees felt as though they would barely support her, but she was determined to
escape from her husband. She had made a terrible mistake, she thought shakily.
Alaric had no warmth or affection in him. There was no possibility that he
would ever love her. She thought anxiously that she would have to wait until he
left the house and then pack and go to her Aunt Louisa's. Surely her aunt would
help her to return to Yorkshire.

"You seem to
have tried and convicted me, my lord, as you did my brother. I see that my
arguments will do me no more good than his did. If you will excuse me, I will
relieve you of my presence."

Alaric took in her
trembling figure and the stricken look in her eyes. She was very beautiful, he
thought. Very beautiful and very proud. She had refused to give in to him, despite
his bullying. A sudden wave of remorse washed over him. He could scarcely
believe the unkind words he had thrown at her. She had nearly driven him mad,
he thought. His desire to control her had made him turn on her and accuse her
of all the vile things that existed in his imagination. He slowly unclenched
his fist and stood up. He took a step towards Rowena and was appalled to see
that she backed slowly away from him.