That Infamous Pearl (27 page)

"That is a wonderful
plan," said Rowena admiringly. "Perhaps Malcolm could let us into her
house at dead of night and we could all search it. It would be so exciting!"

"Under no
circumstances will you go to Marguerite's house. This is a matter that Malcolm
and I can handle." Alaric spoke very firmly.

"You cannot keep
all the fun activities for yourself," protested Rowena. "I am the one
who began this investigation, and I insist on being allowed to continue it."

"Whatever makes
you think searching a house in the middle of the night is amusing?"
demanded Alaric. "That is a perfect example of why you cannot be allowed
to accompany us. You would surely give us away."

"I can be
discreet!" Rowena looked daggers at her husband. "You have a very
unflattering view of me, I see."

Malcolm cleared his
throat. Alaric and Rowena turned to him, having almost forgotten his presence.

"Just thought I
should mention that Marguerite and I had a falling out some days ago," he
said mournfully. "Don't think she will be much inclined to help me
anymore. I told her exactly what I thought of her attempt to convince Brayleigh
we were plotting against him."

"Did you? How
delightful of you, Malcolm." Rowena beamed at him.

"Very noble,
indeed," said Alaric. "But it is unfortunate timing. Is there no chance
that you could make up with her? There are ways that Marguerite can
be...distracted."

Malcolm shook his
head. "She threw a fit. You remember what a terrible temper she has.
Perhaps in a week or so I might be able to get around her, but not now. Our relationship
isn't what it used to be; Voxley is there now and he has a vested interest in
keeping me at bay. He hasn't a penny to his name, and she's as rich as Croesus."

Alaric nodded slowly,
and Rowena smiled. "We cannot possibly wait a week or two. Luckily, we
have an alternate plan, and I think we should proceed with it. I will be glad
to speak to Lady Bingham," she said brightly.

"On the
contrary, it will do us no harm at all to wait a few weeks," said Alaric. "What
difference does it make after twelve years?"

"We cannot sit
about waiting for Marguerite to possibly change her mind and decide she likes
Malcolm again, when we have another alternative," argued Rowena. "We
can hardly allow resolving this problem to hinge upon Lady Bingham's whims."

"Then Malcolm
and I will break into her house," countered Alaric calmly. "It should
be simple enough to do."

"She sleeps with
a pistol under her pillow," said Malcolm glumly. "And I don't like
the look of that butler of hers. I think he's a former highwayman. Still, I'd
be glad to go with you, Brayleigh. The only problem is that I haven't the least
idea of where to begin looking."

"You see,
Alaric, there is no point in pursuing that course," said Rowena with an
air of triumph. "You must agree that my solution is a much better one."

"I will not
allow you to put yourself in peril. I have no way of helping you if Marguerite
should realize what you are up to. It is far too dangerous."

Rowena stared at
Alaric, amazed at his vehemence. His gaze was dispassionate, and she tried to
divine what thoughts might be hidden behind his green eyes. Perhaps he cared
for her after all, she thought with a sudden surge of hope. He seemed so
determined to protect her and to keep her from anything that might harm her.
Maybe he was beginning to trust her again, and trust would perhaps lead to
love.

"I appreciate
your concerns for me, Alaric, but I know that I can take care of myself,"
she said. "And no one else seems to have any other solution to our
problem."

"Not only would
it be hazardous for you, but there is the possibility that you might be
carrying my child," said Alaric bluntly. "I will not have you put at
risk."

Rowena's heart sank
at his words. She could remember the cold, emotionless manner in which he had
told her that, although he would never trust her again, she owed him a son. It
was only his child he was trying to protect, not her. She looked away, trying
not to let her disappointment show in her face.

"I never thought
of that," said Malcolm, breaking the tense silence. "A child, eh?
That would make me an uncle."

"I am not
breeding," said Rowena firmly.

"You cannot be
certain of that, and I will not have you putting yourself at risk. The subject
is closed." Alaric glared at Rowena.

"What if there
was a way you could keep an eye on her?" asked Malcolm suddenly.

"What are you
talking about? He can't possibly come to Lady Bingham's house with me,"
said Rowena.

"No, but there
are other places to meet. I know that Marguerite is going down to the Brandfon's
for a house party next weekend. That would be the perfect place to put this
plan into effect. It would be easy enough for Rowena to get Marguerite alone,
and you could keep an eye on her the whole time, Brayleigh. You shouldn't have
any trouble getting Sir Peter to invite you as well."

Alaric groaned. "Sir
Peter and Lady Maria Brandfon are dreadful people, vulgar in the extreme. He's
always attempting to show me the dreadful old paintings he inherited from his
grandfather. He's sure they're worth a fortune, and every one of them is a
forgery. And badly painted forgeries of naked women, at that."

"You can surely
put up with them for a few days, Alaric, if it means we will clear up this
mess," coaxed Rowena. "It is very uncomfortable for me to be married
to one man suspected of murder and to be sister to another. And for the same
murder, at that. Surely it isn't too much to ask?"

Alaric's gaze
softened slightly. "I appreciate your concerns, but I don't like it.
Still, it is a better idea than having you go to her house. At Brandfon's at
least I would be able to make sure you do not get carried away."

"I will be the
soul of discretion, I promise." Rowena looked pleadingly at Alaric.

"And I will come
along, disguised as a groom!" announced Malcolm. "I will be back up
for you, Alaric. That way things will be all right and tight."

Alaric groaned. "The
last thing I need, Wroxton, is your over-enthusiastic presence. Marguerite will
surely recognize you, if no one else does."

"I'll stay out
of her way. You can't send my sister into danger without my being there. I won't
have it."

"I am not
sending her into danger," Alaric pointed out. "This entire ridiculous
scheme sprang from the Arlingby family brains."

"I think it's an
excellent idea," said Rowena stoutly. "Malcolm will be a great deal
of help. Please say you agree, Alaric."

Alaric drew in his
breath at the sight his wife presented, leaning towards him, her brilliant
violet eyes aglow with excitement. She was so eager and generous, he thought,
so anxious to prove to the world that her brother and husband were innocent of
the charges leveled against them.

"Very well,"
he responded, and jumped slightly when Rowena gave out a shriek of excitement.
She threw herself into his arms and he held her close to him, savoring her
scent and warmth. He was amazed by the pleasure he experienced whenever she
offered him a spontaneous caress.

"But," he
continued firmly, "I will not have you putting yourself at risk. You will
not attempt to conduct any investigative activities without my knowledge and
permission. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Alaric,"
said Rowena promptly. "I will do as you say."

"And you,
Wroxton? I won't have you leading Rowena into one of your wild schemes."

"Well, I like
that," said Malcolm in a tone of disgust. "What makes you think I'd
do something to get Rowena into trouble?"

"Only your
involving her in your attempt to search my safe, and the fact that she
concealed your presence in London from me, not to mention my knowledge of your
sadly hot-headed ways," enumerated Alaric. "Once again, I will have
your word on it."

Malcolm grinned
sheepishly. "Very well. I will be as careful of Rowena as if she was made of
glass. Is that good enough for you?"

"I suppose it
will do." Alaric looked from Rowena's glowing face to Malcolm's excited
one. "You two make me feel very old," he complained.

"Oh no, you are
not at all old," Rowena reassured him. "You are just cautious, which
I am sure is very important."

"Cautious?
Brayleigh?" Malcolm gave her an amazed look. "I could tell you some
stories, Rowena."

"I beg you will
not. I would like it if my wife continued to respect me." Alaric stood up
and looked at Rowena and her brother with a severe eye. "I will go and
write a note to Sir Peter Brandfon, asking if we might join his party. However,
I expect the two of you to conduct yourself discreetly when we are there. This
is a dangerous game we're playing, and I'll not have Rowena hurt. If she is, I
will hold you responsible, Wroxton."

He walked out of the
room, leaving Malcolm and Rowena alone. Malcolm let out his breath in a rush.

"Well, I can't
say I envy you, Rowena, being married to a martinet like that. How can you
stand him ordering you around all the time?"

"He is really
very kind to me," said Rowena softly. "And after the way I have
treated him of late, I must admit that he is not obliged to be."

Malcolm gave her a
shrewd glance. "Don't tell me you're in love with the man!"

Rowena stifled the
tiny sob that rose in her throat and turned away, giving what she hoped was a
light laugh. "Goodness, no. I am only very happy in my marriage."

Malcolm took her by
the arm and turned her, looking down intently into her eyes. "You are in
love with him, blast it," he said. "I admit Brayleigh's not as bad as
I thought, but he's famous for having no heart, Rowena. You should know better."

Rowena clutched her
handkerchief tightly, hoping her tears would not overflow. "It's too late
now, Malcolm. I know I'm an idiot, but it can't be helped."

"He isn't in
love with you," said Malcolm bluntly. "He said as much a few minutes
ago. But he does seem to be concerned about your safety. Maybe he has feelings
for you after all."

"No, I am sure
he doesn't. He is concerned for me because I am his wife and I might be
carrying his child. That is all." Rowena looked away.

"He's not unkind
to you, is he?"

"No, not at all.
Please Malcolm, let's not discuss this further. It makes me very unhappy."
Rowena stepped away and walked toward the window, trying to hide the tears that
were threatening to fall.

"I can't have my
sister unhappy," said Malcolm firmly. "As soon as we've straightened
out this question of who killed Ingram, I will have a talk with Brayleigh. He
can't possibly want you moping around like this."

"I don't mope!"
objected Rowena, her spirit returning. "And if you meddle in my marriage,
Malcolm, I'll be very angry with you. Haven't you already caused enough trouble
for the two of us? It was because of you that we had our last quarrel."

"Well, I like
that," protested Malcolm. "Is it my fault that Brayleigh has a
suspicious nature or that you handled him badly? Really, Rowena, you can't
blame me for your troubles. You shouldn't have married him in the first place."

"No, I suppose I
shouldn't have. But the deed is done, and I must live with it. Please, Malcolm,
let me handle my own problems."

Malcolm folded his
arms over his chest and frowned. "Very well. But don't come running to me
the next time he makes you unhappy. I never thought I'd see my own sister
married to Brayleigh. What a tangle."

Rowena laughed. "Don't
worry about me, Malcolm. You will see that everything will be fine once we have
settled this matter."

The door to the library
opened and Ferguson appeared. "Charles Montfort is here, my lady."

"Oh!" said
Rowena. "Oh, my goodness. Show him in, of course, Ferguson."

The moment the butler
left, she turned hastily to Malcolm. "Hide," she whispered
frantically. "Charles would surely recognize you."

"Damn it, I'm
not going to skulk around like some criminal," protested Malcolm, but he
allowed himself to be led behind Alaric's desk. Rowena urged him down behind
it.

"Please be
quiet. If you are arrested it will make our task that much more difficult,"
she said frantically.

"Charles was a
friend of mine," argued Malcolm. "He won't do anything to hurt me."

"But he is also
Alaric's cousin," answered Rowena. "Please Malcolm, for my sake."

Malcolm subsided,
grumbling, just as the door opened and Charles entered. He raised an eyebrow to
see Rowena standing behind the desk, her cheeks flushed with agitation.

"Dear me. Have I
come at a bad time?"

"No, not at all,"
answered Rowena. "I dropped my...a brooch, and I was looking for it."

"Allow me to
assist you." Charles took a step towards the desk as Rowena hurried out
from behind it, almost colliding with him.

"No, no, that is
not at all necessary. Thank you, though. I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

Charles took her hand
in his. "Is something wrong, Rowena? You seem quite agitated."

"No, not at all,"
Rowena repeated. "Please, sit down. Did you want to see Alaric?"

Charles seated
himself in a high-backed chair. "I did want to speak to him, but I am glad
to find you in as well. How are you, Rowena? I haven't talked to you lately.
Are you thriving?"

Rowena cast an
anxious glance at the desk, and then turned her eyes back to Charles' face. "I'm
fine, thank you, Charles. Shall I ring for Ferguson to fetch Alaric?"

"My business
with him can wait. Tell me, are you happy with my cousin now? I know that all
was not well last week."

"We are fine,"
said Rowena. "Alaric is an excellent husband. Please don't worry about me,
Charles."

"So will you be
blessing the house of Brayleigh with an heir soon?" asked Charles. "You
will forgive me for saying so, but I know that was one of the reasons Alaric
wished to marry."

Rowena colored. "I
hope to make Alaric happy," she murmured.

"I am sure you
do," answered Charles, looking at her closely. "I never thought to
see Alaric so attached to one woman. You have achieved quite a feat, Rowena."

"I have?"
asked Rowena, wondering what he meant.

"Of course.
Alaric has shown no real interest in another woman since he married you.
Despite Marguerite Bingham's attempts to cause trouble, Society is quite agog
to see my cousin so obviously attached to his wife. You are held to be quite a
miracle worker."

"I am?"
said Rowena, surprised.

"Certainly. All
the ladies wonder how you did it. You are the talk of the town, my dear."

Rowena opened her
mouth to ask him more, but the door opened and Alaric stood in it, his green
eyes glinting from under their heavy lids. He cast one swift glance around the
room and then entered, an inquiring look on his face.

"Charles. How
good to see you. What brings you here this afternoon?"

"Money,"
sighed Charles. "I will not hide it from you, Alaric. I am quite done up
again."

"What a pity.
Really, Charles, you must become more provident. Soon you will be married and
will have a wife and children to provide for as well as yourself." Alaric
walked over to his desk and halted for a moment when he saw Malcolm crouching
behind it. A sudden smile lit his countenance.

"I know. I am
sure once I am well and truly tied to Caroline I will change my ways. Think of
this as the last fling of a bachelor. I am sorry to bother you with it, Alaric,
but I should settle this debt before the wedding."

Alaric nodded. "Very
well. But I hope you will reform your behavior, Charles," he said mildly. "I
expect I will very soon have my own family to provide for."

He turned a warm
smile on Rowena that made her heart lurch. He was so devastatingly attractive,
she thought. She almost resented the way he made her feel as though she was
melting whenever he looked at her.

"That is my hope
as well," said Charles. "Rowena and I have been discussing that
ourselves."

"Oh?"
Alaric turned away as though bored. "How much do you need, Charles?"

"Another two
thousand should do it."

Rowena and Charles
watched as Alaric wrote out a draft and sanded it, handing it across the desk
to his cousin.

"Thank you,
Alaric. I will try not to bother you in the future."

"It is no
bother, Charles. I simply think that you need to be more circumspect."

"I will try."
Charles grinned cheerfully and pocketed the draft. "Will I see you at Lady
Buckley's masquerade next week?"

"Sadly, no,"
said Alaric. "Rowena and I have agreed to go to Brandfon's house party. It
will be a sore trial, but I believe Rowena might benefit from the country air."

Charles raised an
eyebrow. "Indeed? I was invited, but I declined. Perhaps I will reconsider
my decision."

"We would love
to have you there." Alaric walked around the desk and put his arm around
Rowena, drawing her close. "The Brandfons are terribly trying. It would be
nice to know that you would be along to alleviate our boredom."

"Then I will go,"
said Charles genially. "I look forward to seeing you there."

He bowed to Rowena
and left, calling his thanks out again cheerfully as he did so.

"Whatever did
you invite him along for?" Malcolm arose from behind the desk and gave
Alaric an aggrieved look. "And did you have to step on my hand?"

Alaric's lips
twitched. "I apologize for my clumsiness, Wroxton. I trust I did no
permanent damage?"

Malcolm looked at his
wounded hand. "No, but it wasn't for want of trying. And it's a shame
Charles will be at Brandfon's. He was a good friend of mine; I will have to be
careful that he doesn't recognize me."

"Precisely,"
said Alaric. "It will be an extra warning to you to be very careful. I don't
like the idea of taking you along, but I'm aware that if I don't bring you with
me you will probably show up on your own. This way I can at least keep an eye
on you, and Charles' presence will keep you out of the house."

"Dash it, I don't
think I like this, Brayleigh. Don't you trust me?"

"Not at all,"
said Alaric. "I don't doubt your bravery, Wroxton, but I know you were
sadly hot-headed twelve years ago and you seem to have changed very little. We
will play this game my way, or not at all."

He fixed Malcolm with
a steely gaze, and there was a moment's silence. Finally, Malcolm's eyes
dropped.

"Very well,
Brayleigh. You came out of this with a whole skin twelve years ago, and I
suppose I must trust you now. But I won't have Rowena injured in any way. If there
is the slightest danger of that, you can be sure I'll take care of her."

"There will be
no need," said Alaric flatly. "Rowena will be under my eye every
moment."