That Infamous Pearl

by Alicia Quigley

  "I am annoyed with you, Lord Brayleigh," she began promptly. "I must ask that you cease your ridiculous behavior."

  Alaric's brows shot up and an expression of bemused innocence crossed his face. "You are admirably frank, Lady Rowena. What have I done to incur your wrath?"

  "I am certain you know exactly what I mean." Rowena gave him a severe glance. "But if you insist on dissembling, I will tell you that you are making a spectacle of both of us, and, while I do not care how you present yourself to Society, I wish to be left out of the matter."

  "Dear me." Alaric smiled, his sense of humor tickled by her direct method of attack. "How can my very proper attention to you cause a spectacle?"

  "Because you are the Earl of Brayleigh and I am Rowena Arlingby. That alone causes a great deal of interest among the ton." Rowena's voice was tart. "And, when that is added to that your famous lack of interest in young, unwed women, the result must be gossip."

  Alaric smiled with delight. Rowena might be attempting to discourage him with her frankness, but he found it disarming.

  "But I have done so very little," he protested. "I have danced with you once, spoken to you in the park, and I brought you a lemonade at Almack's last night. I don't believe any of those actions will compromise your reputation."

  "I really don't care about my reputation," Rowena startled him by responding. "But I do object to being made a laughingstock, and your behavior is doing just that. The mere idea of the Earl of Brayleigh at Almack's is enough to cause comment. I have been told by no less than five people that you haven't been seen there in ten years. Just because you had your differences with my brother twelve years ago is no reason to attempt to ruin my chances now."

  A small frown appeared on Alaric's brow. He had not thought that Rowena would view his attentions in the light of further revenge for his feud with Malcolm. Indeed, he had spared very little thought to how his behavior might appear to anyone. He was not at all sure what he meant by it himself, only that he was drawn powerfully to Rowena and needed to be near her.

  "I am not trying to ruin you, Lady Rowena." His voice was stiff. "And the unfortunate events of twelve years ago need have no bearing on our friendship."

  Rowena laughed at that, her eyes suddenly twinkling. "What a ridiculous thing to say. I can think of no other reason why you might wish to spend time with me."

  Alaric glared down at her, his face tight with frustration. Rowena's determination to believe the worst of him was aggravating, if understandable, and the nearness of her person, her gentle scent that reminded him of flowers after a rain, was deeply tantalizing and served to frustrate him further.

  "I am sure I can explain all to your satisfaction, Lady Rowena." His voice was harsh with annoyance and other, deeper, emotions. "Perhaps you will accompany me out to the terrace." His strong fingers closed over her elbow and he attempted to steer her towards the open doors.

  Rowena felt a sudden surge of emotion shoot through her that might have been alarm, or perhaps something more basic. She pulled her arm away from his hand and then looked around hastily.

  "If you are seeking to guard my reputation, sir, I hardly think dragging me out to the terrace is the best way to do that. Please leave me alone."

  "What makes you think I will do your bidding? After all, if I mean to ruin you, I am hardly likely to obey your orders. And if I am to explain myself to you, we will need privacy. I do not wish to share this discussion with all of this excessively overcrowded room." Alaric towered over her, his saturnine face masked by a remote expression, and Rowena looked up at him anxiously.

  "Explanations are no longer necessary, sir." Rowena's long golden lashes fell over her brilliant eyes, but not before Alaric saw the hint of uncertainty in them. "Please do not bother me again."

  "I am afraid I cannot grant that request, Lady Rowena. After all, you surely do not expect proper behavior from the man who drove your brother from the country and now intends to ruin you." Alaric had regained something of his self-control, but his pride still smarted from Rowena's sharp words. He needed to talk to her alone, but that was an obvious impossibility now.

  Rowena gave him an exasperated look. "This conversation serves no useful purpose, sir."

  "On the contrary, it would do you good to learn something about me other than the constant gossip which your aunt and her friends have no doubt been feeding you," said Alaric. "If you will not speak to me now on the terrace, we must arrange to meet at some other time."

  Rowena felt a tingle of excitement shoot down her spine at his words, but she resolutely shook her head.

  "I hardly think that is likely, sir. My aunt will certainly not allow us to be alone together."

  "Then we shall have to do it without her knowledge," Alaric pointed out.

  Rowena peeped up at him through her lashes. "What are you suggesting, my lord?"

  He smiled. He had hoped that the prim front Rowena had been presenting to him was an act, and now he was sure of it. Rowena clearly had an adventurous streak in her.

  "Meet me in the garden behind your aunt's house tonight," he ordered. "I'll be there at two-o-clock."

  Rowena started. She was not sure what exactly she had expected Brayleigh to propose, but this was not it.

  "That would be quite impossible," she said firmly.

  "Really?" Alaric smiled encouragingly at her. "I thought you had more determination than that. Surely slipping out of doors late at night would not be too much of a challenge to you?"

  Rowena was offended by the aspersion cast on her ingenuity. "It is not that I am unable to do so--" she began.

  "Very good. I will see you at two-o-clock," interrupted Alaric.

  "But I do not think it would be the proper thing to do," finished Rowena, flushing.

  "Ah, you have become proper." Alaric grinned casually. "Coward."

  "I am not a coward," she said heatedly, her pride pricked. "I simply don't choose to meet you."

  "I will be there. I will wait fifteen minutes for you. If you do not come out, I will know that you prefer gossip to truth and are too frightened to face what I have to tell you. You will miss a fascinating story, Lady Rowena."

  Rowena looked at him doubtfully. She wished more than anything to hear Lord Brayleigh's account of the long-ago scandal. She was certain that he would have information that might help her in trying to puzzle out what had happened. And, though she was reluctant to admit it to herself, she was more than a little intrigued by the Earl. She found it impossible to believe that his character was as black as it had been painted.

  Alaric's eyes strayed past her charmingly confused face and he grimaced. "And now I will be going. Your dragon of an aunt is approaching, and I wish to spare myself her conversation. Until later, Lady Rowena." Alaric raised her hand to his lips with extraordinary grace, kissed it, and made good his escape just as Lady Belmont swept down upon Rowena. She glared after him angrily.

  "Drat the man! Can he not leave you alone for one day?"

  Rowena shrugged. "We merely talked, Aunt. He is amusing himself, and there is little I can do about that."

  Lady Belmont opened her fan with an audible snap. "I do wish Malcolm were here, to teach him a lesson for his behavior. He would doubtless call Brayleigh out."

  "Isn't that the sort of behavior that started this whole mess in the first place?" asked Rowena coolly. "I believe we have had enough of masculine pride and foolishness."

  Despite her words, Rowena watched Alaric's tall figure as he made his way gracefully across the ballroom. Suddenly aware of her behavior, she tore her eyes away and turned her attention resolutely back to her aunt. Lord Brayleigh would have a long, lonely wait tonight in the garden. She had no intention of keeping their assignation.

  Alaric made his way towards the door of the ballroom. There was no point in staying longer; his goal had been accomplished and entertainments such as this were not his usual pastime. He had just over three hours to wait until two-o-clock. Lily would surely appreciate a visit fro
m him. His encounter with Rowena had made his body tight with desire, and he needed a suitable outlet.

  Just as he was about to exit the room, a woman stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Alaric took one look at her and his eyes opened briefly in surprise before narrowing again to a wary gaze.

  "Hello, Alaric," the woman said. She was very beautiful, with rich dark curls tumbling artfully about her head, large eyes of cornflower blue, and classically elegant features. Her figure was voluptuous, her breasts nearly overflowing the tiny bodice of her almost sheer violet gown. She tilted her head to one side and smiled charmingly up at him.

  "Marguerite." The word was said with no emotion, simply a flat statement of recognition.

  "It's been far too long, Alaric," Marguerite continued. "But surely word has reached you of my return to England?"

  "I heard rumors, and hoped they were merely that," said Alaric baldly. "I thought you were enjoying your stay on the Continent."

  Marguerite smiled. "It was lovely, of course. So many...amusements. But I have always missed England and when my husband died I no longer felt constrained to stay away."

  "You mean that with old Sir Ralph dead you need no longer stick to your agreement with him." Alaric's voice was very cold.

  Marguerite shrugged. "You always were one for plain speaking, Alaric. I prefer to be more delicate. But yes, with Bingham gone I am not only free, but very wealthy. He was grateful for my adherence to our agreement."

  "You blackmailed him. In exchange for taking your embarrassing behavior abroad, he agreed to leave you a large sum of money."

  Marguerite shrugged. "You were eager enough to help me embarrass him once, Alaric. I don't see why you are suddenly such a paragon of rectitude."

  "Twelve years is a long time. Some of us actually learn from our mistakes." Alaric frowned. "Welcome back, Marguerite. We shall deal extremely well together if we stay out of each other's way."

  Marguerite moved a step closer and leaned towards him seductively. "Is that all I was, Alaric? A mistake?"

  Marguerite's sultry scent filled his nostrils. Alaric stepped back, feeling slightly dizzy.

  "A charming one, but an error nonetheless," he said politely. "I will not repeat it, Marguerite."

  "No?" she purred.

  "No."

  Marguerite pouted. "You don't mean to tell me that you are actually interested in that Arlingby girl that everyone is talking about, do you? I had heard of your quixotic attentions to her, but assumed you were still avenging yourself on poor Malcolm. An inexperienced child could scarcely hold the interest of a man like you, Alaric."

  Alaric's eyes grew steely. "I seem to recall that when you were her age, you held my attention, Marguerite. I will give you fair warning now; I do not want to hear of you speaking of Lady Rowena again."

  Marguerite stepped back and a petulant look crossed her face. "I don't see why you are so taken with her. And it will not do you any good. The Arlingbys will never let you near the girl. You burned your bridges with that family years ago."

  "We shall see. In the meantime, I believe it would be best if we avoided one another." Alaric bowed politely and stalked away, leaving Lady Bingham glaring after him angrily.

  Rowena had watched the exchange from the opposite side of the room, a fire of curiosity growing in her despite the knowledge that she should not concern herself with Brayleigh's affairs. She could not tell the nature of their conversation, but it seemed to her that the two were very familiar with one another. She turned to her aunt, an attempt at a disinterested expression on her face.

  "Aunt Louisa, who is that lady in the violet gown? I don't recall meeting her before, and she is very lovely."

  Lady Belmont turned in the direction Rowena indicated and gave a tiny gasp, her hand travelling up to her throat. She made a strangled noise.

  "Aunt? What is wrong?"

  Lady Belmont turned to Rowena, a glazed expression on her face. "That is Lady Bingham. Her reputation does not bear examining, and you need not concern yourself with her, Rowena."

  Rowena gave Marguerite a curious look. "She is very beautiful. Why should I not know her, Aunt?"

  "Why must you forever be asking questions, Rowena?" Lady Belmont looked at Rowena's mutinous expression and sighed. "Your father should have discouraged this unbecoming curiosity of yours when you were a child. Very well, Lady Bingham is...is not at all respectable. She has been living on the Continent, quite apart from her husband, for some years. Ladies of her sort are not proper acquaintances for you."

  Rowena's eyes widened. "Is she very scandalous?"

  "Very." Lady Belmont shut her fan abruptly. "Is that enough information for you?"

  "She was talking to Lord Brayleigh," observed Rowena.

  "Quite likely. That is precisely why I do not want you speaking to him. She is far more in his line than you are."

  Rowena gave Lady Bingham another curious glance. The older woman was very lovely and had seemed to be on intimate terms with Lord Brayleigh. When Marguerite had leaned towards Brayleigh so seductively, Rowena had felt an emotion she could not precisely pinpoint, but she knew that the encounter had made her uncomfortable. She bit her lip. It seemed that Lord Brayleigh had plenty of company. Surely her presence later tonight in the garden would be completely unnecessary.

  Chapter 6

  Alaric stood quietly in the shadow of the garden wall, his eyes fixed on the house that rose in front of him. Only one window on the third floor had a light in it, and he was certain that room was Rowena's. He watched it impatiently, barely holding his temper in check. It was ten minutes past two.

  He knew he shouldn't be in the Belmont's garden and that it was extremely improper of him to have suggested to Rowena that she meet him there. She was a well-bred young lady, the daughter of an earl, with an unblemished life behind her. She would be expected to marry well and to take her place in Society as a fashionable matron. Meeting older, faintly scandalous, men in the garden late at night was not on the list of activities deemed proper for her.

  But Alaric could not help himself. His polite encounters with Rowena in the ballrooms of the ton were making him increasingly frustrated. He longed to be alone with her, to talk to her freely without every eye in the room on them, to discover if the warmth he thought he glimpsed under the cool facade she showed to the polite world existed. He knew, or thought he knew, that Rowena differed from other women he had been acquainted with, that the intelligence burning in her violet eyes was real, that she was strong, kind, and loyal. If he had known twelve years ago that Rowena existed and would grow up to be such a remarkable woman, he would have handled things very differently.

  Alaric pulled out his watch and glanced at it, cursing softly. It was thirteen minutes past two. He looked up again at Rowena's window. A pipe led up the wall near it, and a stout vine made its way across to the glass. He eyed them thoughtfully. It might be possible to climb up. It would be reckless, he knew, but he had to speak to Rowena tonight.

  He stepped out of the shadows of the tree and moved quickly towards the house. Placing one hand on the pipe he shook it thoughtfully, testing its strength. As he pondered his options, he saw from the corner of his eye a flash of light and realized the kitchen door was opening. He stepped hastily up against the wall, and watched carefully as a head leaned cautiously out the cracked door. Muted light glinted off white-gold hair, and Alaric smiled. Rowena had been unable to resist. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

  He waited silently as Rowena opened the door further and stepped out into the yard, pushing the door gently closed behind her. She looked around nervously, uncertain whether she should stay. She had been determined until the last possible moment that she would not meet Lord Brayleigh in the garden. His manner earlier in the evening had been altogether too assured, and this meeting was highly improper. Rowena had absolutely no business having dealings with the man who had been her brother's enemy, who was possibly a murderer, and who certainly had an unsavory reputation
.

  Nonetheless, when the time he had set was almost past she had nearly panicked, rushing frantically downstairs, fearing that he would be gone. She scolded herself for being foolish, but she could not believe that Lord Brayleigh was beyond reprieve. There was a look in his brilliant green eyes that assured her, each time she gazed into them, that he could not possibly be the monster Aunt Louisa believed him to be.

  She took a few more steps into the garden and then paused, her heart sinking when she saw no sign of Alaric. Perhaps he was gone already, she thought, tired of waiting for her to appear, or perhaps he had never come at all, and he had merely been making a cruel jest at her expense. She pulled her shawl more tightly about her shoulders and sighed.

  "Good evening, Lady Rowena."

  Rowena jumped and squeaked when the voice spoke directly behind her. She swung around abruptly and fixed Alaric with a furious glare.

  "That was not at all kind of you, Lord Brayleigh," she said heatedly. "Surely you were aware that I would be nervous."

  He grinned. "It was irresistible, but not particularly considerate of me. I beg your pardon."

  Rowena smiled as her sense of humor came to the fore. "Did I look very cautious?" she asked.

  "You looked terrified. You need not, you know. I won't harm you."

  Rowena's chin lifted. "I did not think you would."

  Alaric gave her a piercing look. "Not afraid, Lady Rowena? Surely you have heard the stories of how I killed Ingram over the Pearl of Sirsi and allowed your brother to take the blame. You aunt must have warned you that a young lady is not safe in the company of the Earl of Brayleigh."

  Rowena gave a scornful laugh. "I am not such a fool as to believe every story that is told to me, my lord. I have done some searching into your past and I find that the tales of your debauchery are greatly exaggerated."

  Alaric made a choking noise. "You have done some searching?" he repeated.