That Infamous Pearl

by Alicia Quigley

"Rowena!" Lady Belmont's voice rang out again. They heard her turn from the window. "Jonathan, go out and see if she is there. She is not in her bedroom. Oh, if only she were not so unpredictable."

  Rowena stepped hastily out of the shadows. "I am here, Aunt Louisa," she called, her voice shaking only a little. "I am sorry to have alarmed you."

  Lady Belmont appeared in a window. "Darling, whatever are you doing out there? I went to speak to you, and you had not been to bed. I almost had a spasm."

  "I merely wished to enjoy the night air and look at the stars before I went to bed, Aunt Louisa. There is no reason to be alarmed."

  "Come in immediately. You'll catch your death out there." Lady Belmont's voice was peevish.

  "Yes, Aunt Louisa."

  Rowena watched as Lady Belmont closed the window and moved back into the room. She spun immediately on Alaric, who still lingered in the shadows.

  "I suppose you find this very amusing," she said acidly, watching the smile on his face.

  "I was simply admiring your finesse, my dear. If I didn't know better, I might suppose you had done this before."

  Rowena frowned. "I am absolutely sure that you have, my lord."

  He grinned. "I told you to call me Alaric."

  "My lord, you must not interpret my actions this evening to mean that we are to become more intimate acquaintances. I was...I was simply overwhelmed, no doubt by the beauty of the evening." Rowena closed her eyes briefly. "I must go inside. I will see you two days hence at two-o-clock. And I will expect to you to conduct yourself properly."

  She turned abruptly and marched away, yanking the kitchen door shut behind her with a decided snap. Alaric ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. Whatever had gotten into him? He should have been able to resist the demons that had led him to nearly seduce a respectable young woman in her aunt's garden. This was not the way he usually behaved. Virginal girls had never held any appeal for him, and he knew better than to place himself in any situation that might be remotely compromising. This madness that had descended on him this evening would have been inconceivable to him an hour earlier. He would have to think about this again tomorrow, when he had had some sleep.

  At the same time, he felt a sense of surprise that Rowena apparently had no intention of trapping him into marriage. Her aunt had provided the perfect opportunity for her to force him to the altar, but she had seemed as horrified as he was. She obviously did not plan on becoming Lady Brayleigh any time soon. Perversely, rather than relieving his anxiety, the thought annoyed Alaric. Why should Rowena be resisting him? She obviously responded to him, but she just as obviously was determined not to let it happen again. Why should she be any different from the countless young women who had attempted to marry him over the past years?

  He shook his head, attempting to dispel the clouds that hung about his brain. The only thing he could think of clearly right now was Rowena's sweet response to his kisses, the warmth he had felt when he held her in his arms, and how reluctant he would be to forgo more such experiences.

  Chapter 9

  "Well, I must say that was very discouraging. We have made no progress at all," said Rowena, a look of disappointment on her face.

  Alaric glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She was seated next to him in his curricle, close enough for him to smell her delicate scent. He wondered yet again if he was going mad. He had spent two days intermittently and seemingly interminably pondering the wisdom of continuing to pursue her, but at two-o-clock he had found himself at Lady Belmont's door in his curricle, impatiently awaiting Rowena's appearance. She had emerged promptly, looking charming in an ochre yellow driving dress, trimmed with moss green ribbons, and a matching straw bonnet with a deep poke. But, despite his attempts to engage her in more intimate conversation, Rowena had given him neither a look nor a word during the drive to Merton that indicated she had thought even once about what had transpired between them in her aunt's moonlit garden just two nights earlier.

  "I told you that there was little point in your coming with me," said Alaric. "But I regret that we discovered nothing new."

  Alaric watched Rowena's reaction carefully. He had not expected any new details to emerge from the elderly laborer they had interviewed, and thus had not been surprised when none was forthcoming. The man had run to the orchard after hearing a gunshot; he had seen Ingram dead and Malcolm Arlingby standing over him. He had not seen the shot fired. It was the same story he had told twelve years before.

  "It is a shame," agreed Rowena. "But I am not discouraged. We must simply continue our investigation. Surely there is someone out there who knows what happened that day."

  "No doubt. But that does not mean he or she is willing to share the information."

  "You are very pessimistic, my lord. Perhaps I should press forward without you." Rowena's voice held a hint of challenge.

  Alaric's hands tightened on the reins. "I do not recommend it, Rowena. It would cause a great deal of comment."

  "No more than my association with you has," Rowena pointed out. "And you are the one who has pursued this friendship."

  Alaric laughed. "As I recall, it was you who insisted we conduct this investigation. I was prepared to simply dance with you at balls and bring you lemonade at Almack's."

  Rowena looked annoyed. "But it was you who approached me first."

  "I was drawn by your beauty, then captivated by your personality," he answered gallantly.

  Rowena bit her lip. Her heart had given an uncomfortable lurch at his words, but her reason told her they were simply the reassurances of a practiced flatterer.

  "What a charming speech. It is a pity that I cannot believe it," she said.

  Alaric raised an eyebrow. "You wound me. What makes you think I would lie to you?"

  "Oh, I do not think you are lying, precisely," Rowena assured him. "It is just that you speak in this way to so many women. I doubt you even think about your words."

  Alaric frowned. It annoyed him that Rowena should presume him to be so cavalier. Had she not shivered with pleasure in his arms only days before?

  "I never say things I don't mean," he said firmly.

  "Never?"

  "Never."

  Rowena absorbed this information in silence. Her mind kept wandering back to that evening and the startling sensations Alaric had evoked in her. She had thought of little else for the past two days; her thoughts had been haunted by Alaric's green eyes and part of her longed for more of the pleasure they promised.

  For some days now she had been quite certain that she felt a great deal more for the Earl than he did for her, and she was determined that he never know it. She could not bear to see the corners of his green eyes crinkle with amusement if he realized that she had fallen in love with him. No matter what his intentions were in involving himself with her, she was quite certain that he did not return her affections. But, perhaps, he did feel some sort of regard for her. She could only hope that he spoke the truth when he said he was not using her to gain further revenge on Malcolm.

  "In any case," she said quietly, "I thank you for your help, my lord. I hope that our lack of success today has not put you off completely."

  "Certainly not. We shall proceed. I will speak to my lawyer again today and see what other information he may be able to unearth. There were many other servants present, of course, and perhaps one of them is keeping a secret from us. Or I could hire a Bow Street Runner." Alaric smiled at her reassuringly.

  "I think it would be best to speak to some other people as well," said Rowena. "After all, whoever committed this crime was probably not a servant. There must be people in London today who know more about what really happened."

  Alaric stiffened. "Rowena, I suggest that you do nothing of the sort. If the murderer is truly in London and he hears you are searching for him, the situation could become dangerous."

  "I'm not frightened," said Rowena blithely.

  "That is because you do not know what you are dealing with." Alaric's
tone was severe.

  "Then you will have to tell me, won't you? But I can see no danger in speaking to Lady Bingham, and perhaps some of Malcolm's old friends. They surely would remember details of the events leading up to the murder."

  Alaric sighed in frustration. "You would hear rumors and lies, Rowena, and nothing more. And they would laugh at you."

  "As though I cared what Society thinks. If I did, I would not be seen with you, would I?"

  "In this matter I am trustworthy," said Alaric. "But many others are not. They would seek to harm you, or at the very least mislead you."

  "Are you suggesting that they would indicate you are guilty of the murder?" asked Rowena teasingly.

  "There is that possibility," admitted Alaric. "But there is also the chance that they would toy with you and cause you embarrassment."

  "I am not easily embarrassed."

  Alaric grimaced. If she were to begin asking questions among members of the ton, the gossips and his enemies would be only too happy to fill her ears with tales of his own supposed guilt, not to mention numerous other unsavory stories that had arisen over the years. Rowena already knew far too much about his past, and he preferred she didn't learn more.

  "I must insist that you let me lead in this pursuit. Your stubbornness and unwillingness to be guided by one more knowledgeable that you is becoming tiresome." His voice was unusually grim.

  "You have no right to give me orders, and I refuse to be told than an effort to right a terrible wrong done to my own brother is 'tiresome'," mimicked Rowena, a bit heatedly. "I appreciate your help in my investigation, of course, but I must do what I think best."

  "You will be happier if you allow me to guide you," answered Alaric, a bit desperately. He couldn't have Rowena wandering about London asking indiscriminately about Malcolm.

  Rowena turned towards him. "I am sorry, my lord, but I won't take orders from you. You have no control over my actions, as you are well aware."

  "I'll be damned if I don't," snapped Alaric. "You will do as I say."

  "What right do you have to order me about?" demanded Rowena.

  "I mean to marry you," Alaric amazed himself by shouting. "That gives me the right."

  There was a sudden stunned silence as Rowena absorbed his words and Alaric stared straight ahead between his horse's ears, wondering what had come over him to make such an amazing statement.

  "You mean to marry me?" repeated Rowena, her voice distant.

  Alaric turned and looked at her. Her head was turned away from him, her eyes looking down nervously at her hands, which were twisted together in her lap. He had a sudden urge to stop the horses and pull her into his lap, to bring forth the passionate response of which she knew he was capable. Why shouldn't he marry her, he wondered. As Mackley had said just days before, it was his duty to marry in order to provide an heir to the estate, and Rowena was both beautiful and eligible, and she definitely was not boring. The more he considered it, the more he felt he'd made a wise, if somewhat unexpected, decision.

  "Certainly. That should have been plain to you after out last encounter," said Alaric smugly.

  "You didn't mention a word about marriage," protested Rowena.

  "Your aunt interrupted me," Alaric pointed out. "You are surely aware that any gentleman who puts a lady in such a situation must of course be planning to offer marriage."

  Rowena made a choking sound. "You are offering me marriage because you have compromised me?"

  "You have the right to expect it of me."

  Rowena glared at his profile. She had felt a great surge of joy at his mention of marriage, but his reasons for it angered her. Did he think she was some foolish miss attempting to entrap him? She would rather die than have him marry her for such a reason.

  "I thank you for your kind offer," she said with awful sarcasm. "But as no one is aware of what transpired besides the two of us, it is entirely unnecessary."

  "On the contrary, my honor demands it, and I find the idea appealing," continued Alaric stiffly. "You will make me a suitable wife; your birth is good and I find you very attractive," he continued.

  "What a pretty speech. Next you will tell me that you hold me in high esteem." Rowena began to feel slightly sick. She had dreamed about what a proposal from Alaric might be like, but this was hardly the romantic scene of her fantasies.

  "Certainly I do. Mutual esteem is important in a marriage. And we know we are well matched in--other ways."

  "Unfortunately, that is not enough for me." Rowena looked straight ahead. "I will not marry where there is no love."

  Alaric laughed softly. "So that is the problem? Don't be nonsensical, Rowena. We shall do much better without love. It is an uncomfortable emotion that causes only difficulties."

  "Nonetheless, I will not do without it. And now, my lord, I beg that you drop this subject. I find it painful."

  "We share many things that are more important than love," persisted Alaric, unwilling to let the topic alone. He had never offered marriage to any woman before, and it had not for a moment occurred to him that he might be rejected. "We are united in our scorn for most of polite Society, we are both intelligent, and we share a mutual passion that would make our lives interesting."

  "There are also many difficulties," countered Rowena. "My family would be appalled, and the gossip generated by our union would be almost unbearable. All that before one even considers that fact that the true murderer of Alfred Ingram remains unknown. None of this would matter, of course, if we were in love. However, that is not the case."

  Alaric listened to her with a growing sense of outrage. "Would you marry me if I lavished tender words of love upon you?"

  Rowena winced at his bitter tone. "Certainly not, because how could I believe them? You have made it sufficiently plain that you feel obliged to marry me because of your conduct towards me two nights past, and you are not entirely averse to the idea because you find that I have sufficient birth and beauty. Furthermore, my handsome fortune no doubt adds to my other attractions. You will forgive me if I am not overwhelmed by emotion at your proposal."

  "Do I understand then that you refuse my offer?" asked Alaric coldly.

  Rowena suppressed a tiny sob. She continued to gaze down at her lap, determined that he not see the tears forming in her eyes. "It is very generous of you, my lord, but I believe that it is unnecessary. No one is aware of what transpired between us, and therefore I was not compromised. You are absolved of all responsibility."

  Alaric felt like swearing. The conversation was not going at all as he had expected. Although his initial, precipitous, proposal had been unintentional, the longer he thought about it, the more sensible it seemed. His instincts were sound; Rowena would make him an exceptional wife. He glanced at her silent profile and felt his blood quicken at the thought of her in his bed every night. She was altogether unreasonable. It would be necessary for him to persuade her of the wisdom of marrying him.

  He pulled his curricle up outside Lady Belmont's house. The horses fidgeted nervously as he turned to look at Rowena.

  "Does this mean that our investigation is over?" she asked in a small voice. She wished she had the strength to tell him she would not see him again, but the thought of not being near him made her desperately unhappy.

  Alaric snorted. Evidently her concern for Malcolm far outweighed any concerns she might have about his potentially bruised feelings. He wondered if she thought of him only as a useful tool for clearing her brother's name. But she had responded to him so passionately, she couldn't possibly have been pretending. He looked into her hopeful violet eyes and smiled.

  "Of course not," he said gently. "I may not have convinced you to marry me, but I trust you will not cut me altogether."

  She smiled warmly. "Thank you, my lord. I look forward to hearing any news you might have."

  "You will be the first to know," he promised.

  Rowena climbed down from the curricle and walked slowly up the stairs to the house. She heard the clatt
er of horses' hooves as the carriage pulled away. Struggling to tamp down her emotions, she went into the house, hoping not to encounter her aunt. She couldn't bear the thought of being questioned as to where she had been, and she wanted to be alone to ponder what had just happened. Not only had Lord Brayleigh actually proposed to her, she had turned him down.

  She wondered if it was a terrible mistake. When Alaric first said that he meant to marry her, it had seemed that all her dreams had come true. But then he had dumped a bucket of cold water over her head by making it clear he had proposed only because it was his duty as a gentleman. He had said quite clearly that he did not love her. And Rowena did not wish to be married to a man whom she loved hopelessly, but who did not return her feelings. That, she thought savagely, would surely be hell.

  Alaric tooled his curricle through the streets of London, his face grim. He was still experiencing a strong sense of outrage at Rowena's rejection of his proposal. In the past fifteen years innumerable women had tried to trap him, but never once had he been sufficiently moved to make an offer of marriage to one. Now Rowena Arlingby felt that she could turn him down simply because he had not declared his love for her in a romantic fashion. Surely she didn't expect love poems from him. He was a sensible man, and had presented to her a number of sensible reasons why they should be married.

  His eyes narrowed as the carriage rapidly rounded a corner, missing a wagon by mere inches. She had not only turned him down, she had then asked him to continue to help her in her ridiculous attempt to prove Malcolm innocent. Lady Rowena would have to learn that he was not to be dismissed in this manner. The Earl of Brayleigh was not one to take a loss with a graceful smile. He had never yet been turned from his path when he was determined to possess something, as many had learned to their regret. He would be damned if Rowena was the exception.

  Chapter 10

  Alaric threaded his way through the throngs at the Thornwood masquerade ball. As always, when people thought their actions would go unobserved, there was a heightened sense of frivolity and intrigue in the air. The ballroom was decorated with colored lanterns and enormous plants so as to resemble a garden, and the brightly colored dominos worn by the guests gave the scene an air of unreality. Tonight was a night for mischief, Alaric reflected, and he intended to be the one in control of events.