That Infamous Pearl

by Alicia Quigley

  "You mean you told her you know Malcolm." Alaric's voice was sarcastic. "If she comes to you, Marguerite, you are to send her away. She is not to be bothered by your malice."

  "I am not the one attempting to seduce an innocent, Alaric." Marguerite waved her fan gently. "You are no better than I am."

  "Perhaps not. Nonetheless, you will not meddle in my affairs." Alaric placed a hand under her chin and tipped her head up. Their eyes met, his determined, hers full of challenge. "You will do as I say, or you will regret it. Good evening, Marguerite."

  Alaric turned on his heel and walked away. Marguerite gazed after him angrily.

  "We shall see, Alaric, who wins in the end," she murmured.

  Chapter 8

  Alaric dismounted from a hackney cab and signaled to the coachman to wait. He walked casually down the alley leading to the Belmont garden wall, keeping an alert eye out to make sure no one was watching him. London was a dangerous city, and there were always thieves about, but he was well able to defend himself and felt far more worried that he would be sighted by some inquisitive member of the ton, or a servant, who would doubtless spread gossip.

  Alaric reflected bitterly on Marguerite's behavior earlier at the opera. The sight of her with Rowena had made him furious, and her obvious attempt to meddle in his affairs only made him angrier. He would have to keep her away by any means possible. And he would have to find a way to still her malicious tongue. He could not have it said that he meant to seduce Rowena. Seduction would mean marriage, or the girl's ruination, and he could not have either. Still, the thought lingered in his mind. Rowena would make him a suitable wife, and he should marry and raise an heir. He resolutely quashed the idea. It was a foolish notion, brought about by his wish to protect Rowena from Marguerite. She was a diversion, nothing more, and he would soon be weary of her.

  When he climbed the garden wall a few moments later he found Rowena waiting for him. She stood near the house, a white shawl wrapped around her shoulders, still dressed in the shimmering violet gown she had worn at the opera. She looked like a ghost, the moonlight bathing her in its pale glow, illuminating her own exquisite fairness. Alaric paused, enchanted by the sight.

  Rowena broke the spell by striding towards him, a determined look on her charming face. "What did you mean by your behavior tonight?" she demanded. "Why did you drag Lady Bingham from our box like that?"

  Alaric smiled. Her directness was part of her charm, he thought. He could rely on Rowena to say exactly what was on her mind.

  "I had the impression that your aunt was not enjoying her company," he said coolly. "It seemed only polite to rescue her."

  Rowena paused, the annoyance in her expression fading a little. "It was not because of me?"

  Alaric raised an eyebrow. "I certainly do not think your aunt would consider Lady Bingham a suitable companion for you."

  "Then you were being prudish. I had not thought it of you, my lord."

  "Prudish? I have been accused of many things in my time, but I believe that is not one of them." Alaric took her hand and gently squeezed it. "Trust me, Rowena, you do not want to become acquainted with Lady Bingham."

  "Oh, I do not care to be her friend," said Rowena eagerly. "She seems to be a remarkably foolish woman. But she knew Malcolm, and has seen him recently, in Paris! I believe we might be able to get some information from her. You seem to know her, my lord. Was she acquainted with Malcolm at the time of the murder?"

  "She certainly was," said Alaric grimly. "But her opinions would be of no use to us."

  "I don't know how you can say that, my lord. You are obviously a longtime friend of hers." Rowena's voice sounded a touch perturbed.

  "That is how I know she would be unable to help us, and I would hardly call her a friend. Lady Bingham is neither observant nor intelligent. If she recalled any details of the events we are concerned with at all, they would be highly suspect."

  There was a pause. "How well do you know Lady Bingham, my lord?" asked Rowena in a small voice. She hated herself for asking the question, but it had simply popped out against her will. Despite her claim that her only interest in Lady Bingham was that lady's friendship with Malcolm, deep inside she knew that she was far more curious about any relationship the woman might have with Lord Brayleigh.

  "She is an old friend," said Alaric curtly.

  "Is that all?" Rowena's voice was very small.

  "What do you mean by that?" Alaric took her delicate wrists in his hands and squeezed slightly.

  "Only that you seemed to know each other very well." Rowena's eyes rose to meet his for a moment and then dropped behind the shield of her long, pale lashes.

  Alaric cursed silently. Rowena was no fool, and she was bound to hear of his past with Lady Bingham sooner or later. It would be better if she heard it from him, rather than some gossip, or even worse, Marguerite herself.

  "Lady Bingham was once important to me," he said severely. "That was long ago and I regret it now."

  "Was she your mistress?"

  "Rowena, you must not talk in that manner." Alaric was genuinely shocked. "That is not something we should discuss. It is highly improper."

  "Nonsense. I am meeting you alone in a garden in the middle of the night; I can think of nothing more improper than that. No one watching us would realize that we are merely friends bent on unraveling a mystery." Rowena spoke airily, hoping to convince herself. "I need to know about Lady Bingham if I am to determine whether she would be of help to us or not."

  Alaric grimaced. "I fail to see how she could help. It is entirely unimportant."

  "I believe I should be the judge of that." Rowena folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

  Alaric groaned. "Very well. Marguerite was my mistress twelve years ago. I was very much infatuated with her; I foolishly believed myself to be in love. She was married already to old Bingham, but we were not at all circumspect, I am ashamed to admit."

  "She is very beautiful," volunteered Rowena in a wistful voice.

  "Very," responded Alaric drily. "But you are far lovelier, Rowena."

  She colored and looked away. "Please, continue your story, my lord."

  "I would rather not. It is not a pleasant tale."

  Rowena swallowed. "You must tell me; it is important to me."

  Alaric shrugged, his temper rising slightly. "Your brother also was quite enamored of Marguerite. He decided he would take her from me. I regret to say we both behaved like the callow fools we were, and the entire situation came to have a life of its own."

  "Then your quarrel was not solely about the pearl," said Rowena flatly.

  "We competed over everything, Rowena. Horses, carriages, clothing...women." Alaric felt his heart sink as her face grew longer.

  "But it began with Lady Bingham."

  "If it had not been her, it would have been something else. Malcolm and I were destined to want what the other had, I fear."

  Rowena swallowed. "Go on."

  Alaric hesitated, choosing his words with care. "Marguerite decided she would prefer being the Countess of Brayleigh to Baroness Bingham. She left her husband and demanded that I help her to obtain a divorce and marry her. I had for some time been increasingly disillusioned with Marguerite and her behavior; she encouraged Malcolm and other men shamelessly in an attempt to make me jealous. I slowly came to realize that she cared not for me, but for my name and fortune. I told her to go back to her husband."

  "And did she?" asked Rowena.

  "She went to Malcolm instead. It seems that Bingham had thrown her out, cutting her off without funds. She was ruined socially and needed someone to support her. Two days later Alfred Ingram was murdered, and when Malcolm fled the country she went with him. I heard later that she soon left him for a wealthier man. I have not seen her since."

  Rowena frowned down at the ground. Alaric resisted the almost overwhelming urge to take her in his arms and try to kiss a smile back onto her face. He would have to charm her into a better mood bef
ore he could satisfy that desire.

  "I am not proud of my behavior, Rowena. It was many years ago, and I hoped I have learned my lesson."

  "What lesson is that, my lord?" Rowena's voice was nervous and brittle.

  "Not to trust other people and to care for what is mine," answered Alaric. "You can be very sure I do not repeat my mistakes, Rowena."

  "And Lady Bingham was a mistake?"

  "A very bad one." Alaric's voice was rough. He was uncomfortable discussing this with Rowena. He did not want her to know of his previous liaisons.

  "And what of Lily Magdalene? She is not a mistake?"

  Alaric jumped as though he had been shot. "How do you know about Lily?"

  Rowena smiled, a bit smugly. "You activities are very well known, my lord. It took little effort for me to discover the name of your mistress."

  "You have gone altogether too far, Rowena. You and I should not be discussing Lady Bingham, much less Lily. That is something a gently brought up female does not know about." Alaric felt as though he was being slowly smothered.

  "We only pretend not to know, my lord. I have made it my business to know as much as possible about you. It's not that difficult, as you are hardly discreet. All of London discusses your affaires." Rowena felt a touch of satisfaction at having ruffled his calm.

  "Lily is none of your business, Rowena. A woman like her is a mere convenience.

  "Is she so? And what am I, my lord? Am I also a convenience? Or am I just another way of competing with Malcolm?" Rowena set her chin at an aggressive angle.

  "Whatever are you talking about, Rowena? I was under the impression that I was here to help you attempt to clear your brother's name." Alaric hoped desperately that Rowena would be distracted by his mention of the mystery she was so intent on solving.

  Rowena shook her head. She felt a gnawing sense of uncertainty inside her, and sought desperately to assuage it. "I cannot believe that such a thing truly interests you, my lord. And our earlier discussion would indicate that you might perhaps have other motives for pursuing Malcolm Arlingby's sister."

  "I have no intention of seducing you in order to hurt your family," said Alaric abruptly. "You have far too melodramatic an imagination."

  "Have I?" Rowena tightened her grip on her shawl. "Then what did you intend by kissing me last night, Lord Brayleigh?"

  A gleam of laughter lit Alaric's eyes. "I meant to give myself—and you--pleasure. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it, Rowena. I wouldn't believe you."

  Rowena flushed. The memory of Alaric's kisses had kept her up half the night. "That is beside the point," she said.

  "No, that is very much the point." Alaric placed his hands on her shoulders, easing the shawl aside and stroking her petal-soft skin lightly with his fingertips. He experienced a flash of triumph when he felt a tremor shoot through her body. He sensed that she felt the same attraction that he did.

  Rowena moved away from his grasp. "My lord, we should consider the further course of our investigation. I will agree not to speak to Lady Bingham if you can present me with other areas of inquiry we may pursue. But I reserve the right to question her at a later date, should I feel it necessary."

  Alaric let her go, his hands falling back to his sides. He watched the gentle line of her spine as she turned away from him, enchanted by the proud way she held herself.

  "My lord?"

  Alaric pulled himself back to the garden. "I do have other leads to pursue," he said softly. "I spoke to my lawyer today and he has found me the direction of a laborer on Ingram's estate who was present on the day of the shooting. I will go there one afternoon this week to speak with him and see if some new information can be gleaned from his memories. "

  Rowena beamed up at him. "How wonderful. I am sure that he will be an excellent source. What day shall we go there?"

  Alaric blanched. "We?"

  "Of course I will go with you," said Rowena. "I wouldn't miss this for the world. It will be far more exciting than a ride in the park or shopping with Aunt Louisa."

  "Rowena, I am willing to investigate this matter for you, but I do not wish you to become directly involved." Alaric rubbed his chin absently, his face concerned. He was happy to pretend to search out information in order to have access to Rowena, but he did not wish her to accompany him. He was as likely to find evidence that implicated himself as Malcolm.

  "But of course I will become involved," objected Rowena. "Malcolm is my brother, after all. And I am sure you could do with my help. A second mind bent on a task always makes things move along more quickly."

  "You aunt will not allow you to ride out so far with me unchaperoned. It is an impossibility."

  "Aunt Louisa will be gone for the afternoon two days hence. If you come for me at two-o-clock, no one will be about to stop us." Rowena smiled sunnily. "As you will surely have a groom perched behind, to walk the horses while we talk to this farmer, a chaperone won't be a problem."

  "You cannot wish to be seen driving with me," objected Alaric.

  "Nonsense. It will do me no harm. Society gossips about us far too much already. One ride in an open carriage, in the presence of your groom will make no difference. If you do not come for me, I will immediately seek out Lady Bingham and ask her what she knows," she added, to clinch her argument.

  Alaric shrugged. It seemed it was impossible to avoid taking Rowena with him on his visit, and he was beginning to wonder if he actually wished to do so. It would be pleasant to spend an afternoon with her, rather than skulking about in the dark.

  "Very well. I will come for you two days from now at two-o-clock. But Rowena, I must insist that you stay away from Lady Bingham. She is potentially dangerous."

  "Why would she wish to harm me?" asked Rowena.

  "Because it would upset me." Alaric frowned. "Lady Bingham is not always particular about the means of revenge she chooses."

  "Oh." Rowena looked concerned. "She might try to harm me because she thinks you are interested in me? Perhaps I could assure her that there is nothing between us except our investigation. That would surely solve the problem."

  Alaric smothered a laugh. "Lady Bingham is not so easily handled, Rowena. I fear you are no match for her."

  Rowena stiffened. "I do not think that is fair. I am certainly more intelligent than she is, and I believe I can defend myself."

  "But, my dear, you are far less duplicitous." Alaric drew near Rowena again, unable to help himself. "Promise me you will be careful."

  "Very well. But I think it is a great nuisance that people should talk of us so. It would be so much more comfortable if they would realize we are merely good friends."

  "I think we are more than that, are we not?" asked Alaric, his voice deep with frustration.

  Rowena gave him an inquiring glance. "Of course, we are co-conspirators," she agreed. "I am grateful for your help, my lord."

  Alaric stepped forward, placing his hands firmly on Rowena's waist. He realized that they almost closed around it, and he felt a sudden urge to keep her with him always, to protect her from the world's evil of which she was so charmingly unaware. With a muttered oath he drew her to him and placed his lips on hers, kissing her with the pent-up desire and desperation that had been building in him since the evening before. Rowena's mouth trembled for a moment under his and then he felt her lean against him, giving herself up to the fire that was building between them.

  Alaric deepened the kiss, making it deliberately bold and overpowering, anxious to imprint himself on her. A flare of excitement shot through him when he realized her desire was rising to match his own.

  Rowena gave herself up to the sensations Alaric was rousing in her, some tiny corner of her brain knowing she should not, but her mind and body demanding more of his remarkable lovemaking. She shyly placed her hands on his shoulders, urging him closer, responding to his kiss with eagerness.

  Alaric groaned and slid his hands down over her hips, easing her lower body up against his. Rowena's eyes flew open.

/>   "Good heavens," she breathed. "Whatever are you doing, my lord?"

  "Alaric," he ground out. "Call me Alaric." Fighting to control himself, he rained kisses down her neck, one hand rising to gently cup one breast.

  Rowena started and pulled back from his grasp, giving him a wary look as reality crowded back in on her, and with it, anxiety about her situation.

  Alaric swore to himself. He should have had more control than to do this here, outside in her aunt's garden. But he had been unable to help himself, and he could not bring himself to actually regret it when he remembered Rowena's sweet kisses.

  "Rowena!" They both jumped at the sound of a voice coming from the house. "Rowena, are you out there?"

  Alaric blanched as he recognized Lady Belmont's voice. Discovery meant certain scandal, and, considering Rowena's disheveled state, probably a special license. He glanced down quickly at Rowena, who looked equally alarmed.

  "My aunt," she whispered. "Let go of me."

  He watched as she moved quickly away from him, hastily adjusting her bodice and smoothing her skirts, snatching up the white shawl from where it had fallen.

  "Thank heavens I have cropped hair," she said softly, stroking it back into place with nervous fingers. She turned towards Alaric. "How do I look?"

  "Beautiful," he answered, taking in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. He had made her look like this, he thought with a sense of pleasure.

  Rowena stamped her foot. "I am not looking for compliments. Do I look as though...as though..."

  "As though you had been recently behaving in a scandalous manner?" asked Alaric. He leaned forward and gently smoothed one stray curl into place.

  "Yes, that." Rowena struggled to maintain her composure. Their shared passion had been wonderful beyond description, but she had no intention of letting Alaric know that. He had most likely done this dozens of times, and she would not allow her pride to be trampled by admitting to him how she felt.

  "You look very respectable," he assured her. "And it is dark. She will not notice."