A Collector's Item: Rowena's After Dark Regency Romance (The Arlingbys Book 1)

by Alicia Quigley

  Rowena flushed. He had pricked a sore spot in her heart, as it rankled that Alaric had not always dealt with her honestly. But he had sworn he would not deceive her again.

  "We have discussed that matter. Alaric has promised to be truthful with me from now on."

  "And you believed him? How many times must I tell you that Brayleigh cannot be trusted?" Malcolm gestured wildly. "Do you know what he did to Marguerite?"

  "I have a great many reasons to believe that Lady Bingham is not entirely trustworthy herself," said Rowena. "You cannot expect me to take her word over my husband’s."

  "Marguerite’s not so bad," said Malcolm. "She may be malicious, but her heart’s not black, like Brayleigh’s."

  "Then why does she want to destroy him, and me? I believe she sent for you simply so she could use you to ruin my marriage. She certainly has been trying every other possible tactic!"

  Malcolm started to laugh. "Is she still trying to get revenge on Brayleigh? Well, perhaps she is using me, but I am using her as well. She brought me here, and she’s footing the bill. But that doesn’t matter. There is nothing more she can do for me right now. Rowena, you are the one who can help me. You are the only person I can trust, and you are in a position to save me. Can you turn your back on your own brother?"

  Rowena swallowed. Malcolm was gazing at her pleadingly, and she could see the loneliness and uncertainty in his eyes. She couldn’t turn him away without trying to help him.

  "If I search the safe and find that the pearl is not there, will you believe me?" she asked slowly. "Will you take my word that Alaric is not guilty, and help me to search for the true killer?"

  Malcolm gave a little crow of laughter and grabbed Rowena up into his arms, giving her a fierce hug. "Of course I’ll believe you, little sister. Because you will find the pearl, Rowena. I have no doubt that it is there, and that when you see it you will realize you have been trusting in a lie. Then Brayleigh will pay for everything he has done to our family!"

  Rowena sighed. She told herself that she was absolutely certain that Alaric did not have the Pearl of Sirsi, but Malcolm’s deep conviction had shaken her. She could see by the look in his eyes that he believed every word he said. It was absolutely necessary to prove him wrong and kill the niggling doubts that had crept into the back of her mind. She had to open the safe in order to prove not only to Malcolm but also to herself that Alaric was the man she believed him to be.

  "When can you do it?" asked Malcolm excitedly. "Tonight?"

  "I doubt it," answered Rowena. "I don’t know. It might be some time. Alaric doesn’t go out much."

  "It must be soon. I can’t hide forever. Voxley knows I’m here, and he has a loose tongue. I live in daily fear that he’ll let the cat out of the bag."

  "I certainly don’t think he can be trusted," answered Rowena. It pained her to see her brother relying on people who had tried to harm her. He must feel the same way about her loyalty towards Alaric, she realized. She touched his hand with gentle fingers.

  "We must meet somewhere," she said. "You must tell me a place that is safe."

  Malcolm shrugged. "I’ll send you a note. We’ll meet the day after tomorrow. Do you think you can do it by then?"

  "I’ll try." Rowena felt oddly empty now that she had promised Malcolm to search for the pearl, as though she had betrayed Alaric. But Malcolm was her brother, and it was necessary to help him. This was the only way she could steer him away from his determination to wreak vengeance on her husband. She sighed once more.

  "Good girl." Malcolm put his arm around her shoulders and gave her another quick hug. "I knew I could count on you. You’re my only hope."

  Rowena hugged him back and felt her heart swell. A month ago she had felt so alone, her parents and brother dead, only her aunt to care for her. Now she had both a brother and a husband she loved. The only problem was that they were intent on destroying one another. She would have to work very hard to keep this from turning into a disaster.

  "Rowena!"

  She started at the sound of Alaric’s voice and pulled herself away from Malcolm. Swinging about she looked back towards the house and was relieved to see that Alaric still stood on the terrace, his broad shoulders and lean hips silhouetted against the bright lights of the ballroom. He couldn’t possibly see her and Malcolm, standing as they did in the shadows.

  "Rowena, are you out here?"

  "Brayleigh! I’d know him anywhere," breathed Malcolm. Rowena felt him stiffen and take a hasty step towards the house.

  "Stop it!" she hissed, grabbing his arm.

  "It’s him! I’d like to strangle him now," muttered Malcolm passionately.

  "Well, you can’t," whispered Rowena. "I promised to help you, and now you must abide by our agreement."

  Malcolm shrugged. "Very well. I’ll let the hangman’s noose do the job for me. Very soon you’ll have the proof I need, little sister."

  "Get out of here," said Rowena. "I can’t have anyone seeing you."

  "Jealous, is he?" asked Malcolm. "Poor Rowena. Fear not, I’ll rid you of him. You’ll hear from me soon."

  He turned and disappeared quickly into the shrubbery, leaving Rowena alone in the garden. She waited until the sounds of his retreat had faded and then stepped out into the moonlight.

  "I’m here, Alaric," she said.

  "Rowena." Alaric stepped lightly down from the terrace and moved quickly across the grass towards her. "What are you doing outside? Are you alone? Charles said you just disappeared." He looked past her into the dark garden.

  "I wanted some air. It was a bit close inside," said Rowena vaguely. "I was quite alone."

  Alaric wrapped one of his big hands around her upper arm. "You’re chilled." He drew her closer to him and Rowena sank gratefully into the warmth of his body. Tears welled up in her eyes when she realized that she couldn’t tell him of her brother’s return.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked. "I thought you didn’t wish to attend this ball."

  Alaric raised his hand to gently stroke her cheek. "I went home and you weren’t there," he said simply. "I couldn’t stand being in the house without you. It’s only been few weeks, but now I’m lonely when I’m not with you."

  Rowena’s tears threatened to fall at this simple statement. Alaric so seldom told her how he felt, and now he was saying in his own way that he needed her. She gave a little laugh that ended on a sob.

  "Is something wrong?" he asked, trying to see her face. She buried it in the front of his dark coat.

  "Nothing at all," she said. "Not now."

  "Charles told me what Marguerite did," continued Alaric. "Once again, I must apologize to you. I took your advice this afternoon and did not speak to her. Perhaps I should have. It might have spared you some pain."

  Rowena’s eyes widened. "You took my advice?" she repeated.

  Alaric laughed. "Is it so impossible? When I calmed down I realized you were right. Marguerite is playing some game of her own and we must simply ignore her. But I didn’t want to admit that you were right. I wandered about town for a while, and when I got home you were gone. So I came to find you."

  "I’m glad you came. And I’m sorry I made you angry. I shouldn’t argue with you." Rowena gave him a quick hug.

  "I refuse to believe you mean that." Alaric lifted her chin so that she looked up at him. "Never tell me you are so demoralized. I expect you to argue with me all our lives."

  Rowena gave a watery chuckle. How could she ever have doubted that Alaric was a good man and that he cared for her? The seeds of doubts Malcolm had planted were speedily uprooted. But it was still necessary for her to search the safe, she thought with a sinking heart. Malcolm would never believe her unless she did.

  Alaric pressed a kiss to her mouth, and then gave a small groan when she opened her lips and responded passionately. He set her away from him with shaking hands.

  "Don’t do that, or we shall not achieve what I came here for."

  "What is that?" asked Rowena, sur
prised.

  "I mean to dance with you and show all the world that we are very happy together. I have decided to try it your way."

  Rowena flung her arms around her neck and pressed a kiss to his chin. "You are marvelous, Alaric."

  "If this is the response I get, I will humor you more often," he said softly, drawing her closer. He gazed down at her and then frowned quickly. "The neckline on that dress is a little low, don’t you think?"

  Rowena looked down at herself, flustered. "It is very fashionable," she answered.

  "I don’t like it. Unless you choose to wear it when we dine alone together." Alaric allowed his hand to slide up her waist to cup one firm breast, his finger gently teasing her nipple through the delicate fabric. Rowena felt herself shiver with anticipation.

  "Do we have to dance?" she asked.

  "We must. But then I shall take you home immediately. I don’t want to share you for a minute longer than I must. Come along, Rowena. We have something to prove to Society."

  Chapter 26

  Rowena tried to sort out her thoughts as she prepared for bed. She obediently turned and twisted as Lawson divested her of her gown, combed her hair, and dressed her in a sheer linen nightgown trimmed with fine lace. But she barely heard her maid’s inconsequential chatter. She was still trying to absorb the fact that Malcolm was in London, that she had seen him, and that she had agreed to his preposterous scheme to search Alaric’s safe. Now in the comfort of her bedroom, with the fire glowing brightly on the hearth and the candles illuminating the familiar surroundings, it seemed as though she must have dreamt the whole encounter.

  But she hadn’t. She knew that, although she almost wished she had. How could she possibly convince Alaric to tell her the combination to his safe, and how could she search it as though she thought he was some sort of criminal? She knew he had not killed Ingram as surely as she knew Malcolm had not. But her brother would not believe her until she had proof. She met her own gaze in the mirror. There was an uncertain, haunted look in her eyes.

  "Is everything all right, my lady?" asked Lawson, noting her mistress’s odd mood.

  "Everything is fine, Lawson. Thank you." Rowena dismissed the maid with an uneasy smile and settled into the bed, pulling the white linen sheets up over her shoulders. She could see light coming from under the door that connected her room to Alaric’s and could hear him moving about and talking to Jameson. Soon he would come in, she thought nervously. How could she act as though nothing had happened? She felt incredibly guilty for keeping such an important secret from Alaric. Hadn’t she lectured him only a few days ago on the importance of honesty? But if she told him Malcolm was in London, that he had approached her, and since the issue of Lady Bingham’s involvement would be nearly impossible to conceal, Alaric was certain to be infuriated. It was far better to convince Malcolm of Alaric’s innocence first. Then it would surely not be too difficult to convince Alaric that Malcolm was also a victim of circumstance. After that had been settled, they could work together to solve the mystery of who had killed Alfred Ingram. Rowena wasn’t satisfied, but felt unable to see another path.

  She heard Jameson leave Alaric’s room and reached down to smooth the lace on her nightgown, eagerly awaiting her husband’s entrance. Some minutes passed, however, and he did not enter. Rowena gazed at the door, perplexed. Alaric had been so passionate earlier in the Burlington’s garden, and on the carriage ride home she had been hard put to keep him from ravishing her. What could have happened now?

  Perhaps Alaric had become suddenly ill and needed her help. She got out of bed, pulled on her sheer lace wrapper and walked across the room. Slowly she eased the door open and peeked into Alaric’s bedroom.

  A quick glance at the bed assured her that he had not gone to sleep, and she looked around cautiously, wondering where he was. Then she saw his dark head over the back of a tall, wing-backed chair that stood in the window embrasure. He had drawn back the heavy curtains and was sitting quietly, looking out at the night sky. Rowena took a tentative step into the room and closed the door behind her.

  Alaric turned his head at the sound and stood up when he saw Rowena. He was wearing a brocaded dressing gown made of black silk that clung to the strong lines of his thighs, and Rowena found her breath quickening when she looked at him. He returned her gaze somberly and she gave him a doubtful glance, wondering if in the past half hour she might have done something to annoy him. She smiled tentatively.

  "Good evening," she said in a small voice. She had been in Alaric’s room before--they had spent many delightful hours in his enormous bed--but tonight he seemed rather forbidding.

  Alaric slipped the piece of white paper he held between his fingers into his pocket and smiled. Rowena was relieved to see his face lighten, and she came a few steps nearer. Alaric held out his hand and she moved close enough to take it, feeling his strong fingers close over hers.

  "What are you doing here?" asked Alaric.

  Rowena blushed. "You...you didn’t come into my room, so I was wondering if there was something wrong."

  Alaric chuckled. "No, nothing is wrong. I received a message that I needed to read and I was simply thinking about it."

  "Is it something important?"

  "No, not at all." Alaric gave her a sidelong glance. "Did you enjoy the ball tonight?"

  Rowena’s gaze shifted slightly. "After you arrived," she answered quietly.

  "I hope we made a convincingly happy couple. After your little altercation with Lady Bingham, it was probably necessary."

  Rowena frowned. "I wish she would leave us alone."

  "She’s a spiteful woman. You mustn’t pay any attention to the things she says." Alaric spoke very quietly, but it seemed to Rowena that he was trying to convey something to her. She looked up, scanning his face for some clue.

  "I will try not to." Rowena reflected that Marguerite seemed to have invaded every part of her life. Malcolm was here because of the baroness’s interference, and seemed to be staying in London under her auspices. That was hardly a situation that boded well for the happiness of Rowena’s marriage. She couldn’t imagine that Marguerite would not try to make further trouble. Whatever Malcolm’s aims were, Marguerite’s were surely to cause problems for Rowena.

  There was a pause, and then Alaric squeezed her hand gently. "As you can see, I am quite well," he said in a teasing voice. "Was there something else you wanted?"

  Rowena flushed. "I was just concerned for you. I see that everything is fine. I’ll go back to my room now."

  Alaric laughed and tightened his grip on her hand. "I don’t believe that you only wished to reassure yourself as to my health. Be honest, Rowena. Why did you come in here?"

  Rowena could feel her face turning hot and wondered if the blush was spreading all the way down to her chest. "You come to me every night," she said defensively. "I’ve gotten used to sleeping with you. It is very...comfortable."

  "Only comfortable?"

  "And very pleasant," said Rowena firmly.

  "Pleasant?"

  Rowena stamped her foot. "It isn’t kind of you to tease me," she protested hotly.

  "No, I suppose it isn’t. But you make it irresistible." Alaric reached down and scooped her up in his arms, holding her high against his chest. Rowena gave a little gasp at his sudden movement and looked at him uncertainly.

  "You are really too lovely," said Alaric. He carried her to the large chair he had been sitting in when she entered the room and sank down into it again, still clasping Rowena firmly to him. He settled her in his lap and smiled at her. "Tell me what you want from me."

  "That isn’t fair," complained Rowena.

  "I promised to be truthful with you, but I don’t believe I promised to play fair," observed Alaric. "Now, is this what you came for?"

  He leaned forward and kissed her gently, his lips just brushing hers. Rowena gave a little sigh and wrapped her arms around his neck, offering her mouth up for another kiss.

  "Is it?" asked Alaric.
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  Rowena nodded her head enthusiastically. Alaric pulled her closer and gently eased her wrapper open, slipping it off her shoulders and running one finger gently down her arm. The linen of her nightgown was so finely woven that her already taut nipples were clearly visible. Alaric touched one with a gentle finger.

  "And this?" he asked.

  Rowena squirmed slightly in his lap as a tingling sensation shot through her. She could feel that Alaric was rapidly becoming aroused, and she intentionally moved against him, smiling up at him challengingly.

  "Vixen," said Alaric.

  "You don’t like it?" she whispered.

  "You know I do." Alaric lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth, the sheer fabric dampening until it was transparent. Rowena felt tiny tremors of pleasure slide through her body, and she moved luxuriously, arching her back so that her breasts thrust up towards him. He made a small sound of pleasure and took more of her into his mouth, his hand sliding down to the hem of her nightgown, slipping under it, sliding gently, seductively up her leg.

  Rowena shyly raised her hands to his shoulders, pushing impatiently at his robe until it fell back, exposing his chest to her eager fingers. She touched one flat nipple with curious fingers, and his hand tightened on her thigh. She cried softly in the back of her throat as his teeth bit down lightly on her nipple.

  "You’re so tempting, darling," he murmured. "It took every ounce of my control not to take you tonight in the garden."

  "I wish you had," she whispered. "It’s been terrible waiting."

  "So you came to me," he said, raising his head and looking into her eyes. "Why did you do that?"

  I love you, she thought, but she knew better than to say the words. She could imagine the cold look that would come over his face, the uncomfortable gleam that would appear in his eyes.

  "I need you," she said simply.

  "I need you too."

  Alaric’s hand slid further up her leg, stroking first the tender flesh of her thigh and then her silken curls, moving gently but inexorably to the entrance of her tight passage. He touched the soft folds he found there as little whimpers rose in her throat, gently spreading her as he slipped two fingers inside. She moved her hips in an instinctive, seductive rhythm, trying to draw him in further.