That Infamous Pearl

by Alicia Quigley

  The door opened again and Ferguson entered, bearing a pile of letters and invitations on a silver tray. He placed it on the table at Alaric's elbow and then paused for a moment, surveying the scene. His lordship still looked furious, and the Countess appeared to be subdued. He breathed a silent sigh. It would have been too much to expect the good humor of the past weeks to continue. Society marriages were seldom happy.

  "Will there be anything else, my lord?"

  Alaric shook his head. Ferguson left the room, and Rowena leaned towards the tray, attempting not to appear too eager.

  "Is there anything for me?" she asked.

  Alaric gave her an inquiring glance. Apparently she was not so upset by their situation that she intended to abandon the social whirl. His contempt for her rose a bit higher. How could she think of entertainments when she had just ruined his life? He shoved the tray towards her with a snort.

  "Look for yourself."

  Rowena gave him an apprehensive glance and then began to sort through the little pile of envelopes, quickly separating out those addressed to her. She easily located a note addressed in the same hand as the one she had received the day before, and with a quick movement slid it under an invitation.

  Alaric gave her a shrewd look. She bent her head and took a sip of tea.

  "Aren't you going to eat?" he asked.

  She shook her head silently. The thought of food made her stomach turn.

  "You'll need to keep your strength up," said Alaric softly. He watched with a hint of malicious pleasure as she colored.

  "No, thank you," she said in as composed a voice as she could muster.

  There was a moment of silence and then Alaric nodded towards the little pile of paper at her elbow. "You were quite eager to receive your mail. Aren't you going to open it?"

  "I can do that later," answered Rowena.

  "You usually open the letters while you eat breakfast," observed Alaric. "Is today somehow different?"

  Rowena shrugged. "Very well, if you insist." She picked up the first envelope with ill grace and opened it with a knife. An invitation card for a soiree the following week fell out. Alaric reached across and picked it up, looking at it idly.

  "Will you attend?" he asked.

  "Will you let me?" she shot back.

  Alaric's eyebrows rose. "You are not a prisoner, Rowena. You may come and go as you please, although I presume you will no longer expect me to dance attendance on you. However, I do not recommend attempting to see your brother. I would surely find out about it."

  Rowena froze at his words. There was an ominous sound to them. "Are you having me followed?" she demanded.

  Alaric shrugged, pleased at having disturbed her composure. "I wouldn't test me, if I were you, Rowena."

  Rowena tossed her head and picked up the next envelope. It was a note from Lady Belmont, asking her to stop by sometime soon. She had the most delightful gossip to relate to her beloved niece. Rowena put the piece of paper down, feeling slightly dizzy. These notes and invitations seemed to come from another world, one in which everything worked in a logical manner. Her life had become decidedly less tidy in the past day.

  "You haven't opened everything," observed Alaric, nodding at the neatly folded paper that still lay by her plate. She had attempted to tuck it partially under her napkin, but Alaric had apparently been watching her carefully.

  "Haven't I?" She looked about curiously, and Alaric pointed at the note, an unpleasant smile on his face. Rowena picked it up reluctantly and held it gingerly in her hands.

  "Don't let me disturb you," said Alaric, picking up his knife and fork and attacking his breakfast.

  Rowena wondered how he could eat when her own stomach was tied in knots. She carefully slit the letter open and scanned its contents, keeping one eye anxiously on her husband.

  My dear Rowena,

  I am looking forward to our meeting today and your confirmation that Brayleigh does indeed have the pearl in his possession. I cannot possibly express my gratitude to you and my eagerness to put this unpleasant business behind us. Soon I will take my place in Society and you will be relieved of the burden of your husband. Meet me at the Queen's Walk in Green Park at two-o-clock this afternoon. Wait there and I will come to you.

  Malcolm

  Rowena noticed her hand was shaking and hastily folded the note and tucked it among her other missives. Alaric looked up from his breakfast.

  "Not bad news, I hope?"

  "Not at all. My friend Miss Battleby simply wished to apprise me of the amorous adventures of one of our friends. I gather she might soon be married." Rowena stared at her plate as she spoke, willing herself not to flush.

  "With your recent experience, you might recommend that she not rush into anything," said Alaric dryly.

  Rowena decided she couldn't take his sarcasm for another minute. This coldness where she used to find warmth was more distressing to her than she had thought possible. She gathered up her letters and stood up.

  "May I go?" she asked.

  Alaric looked surprised. "You are totally in control of your own actions, Rowena. Have I indicated that you must ask me for permission to move about?"

  Rowena shook her head.

  "Do not try to paint me as an ogre, my dear. I am the wronged party, not you." Alaric's gaze hardened as he watched her. How could someone so soft, so tender, so seemingly generous, betray him in such a manner, he wondered. It seemed impossible that such beauty hid so devious a heart.

  "I told you the truth yesterday," Rowena burst out, despite a feeling of hopelessness. She knew that Alaric would not listen to her.

  "It is useless to belabor the point. Please, do as you wish today." Alaric turned back to his breakfast and did not look up when Rowena ran from the room, her letters clutched in her hand. But after she had gone he pushed his plate aside and gripped the edge of the table with taut fingers. It had been almost impossibly difficult to face her. He had wanted simultaneously to seize her by the shoulders and shake her furiously and to snatch her up into his arms and make love to her. But he would not lose control. She would never know how close she had come to making a complete fool of him.

  Chapter 26

  Rowena looked down the Queen's Walk anxiously, wondering where Malcolm might be. Green Park, which was not a fashionable gathering place and therefore relatively unknown to Rowena, stretched before her, but she could not bring herself to concentrate on its bucolic beauty. She felt as though if her brother did not appear in a moment she would scream. Lack of sleep and anxiety had stretched her nerves to the breaking point. She had to tell her brother that it was necessary to mend her marriage before she could help him any further. Perhaps he might be convinced to return to the Continent until she could find the true killer. She couldn't imagine living with Alaric, trying to repair the damage she had done, while knowing that Malcolm might be arrested at any moment.

  She stepped back towards the shrubbery when she heard the clatter of horse's hooves. It was important that no one see her and perhaps mention to Alaric that she had been seen unattended in Green Park. It had been difficult enough for her to convince Lawson to return home from their shopping trip without her and to find a hackney to convey her here. If anything went awry, her situation would only become worse.

  There was a sudden commotion in the bushes behind her, and Malcolm stepped out, a jaunty grin on his face. He was dressed in sober black and wore a brown wig over his hair. Rowena had to smile when he swept her a courtly bow completely at odds with his costume.

  "I seem to have quite a knack for this sort of thing," he said cheerfully. "Perhaps when this matter is cleared up I will become a spy for the government."

  "I thought you simply wanted to become Lord Wroxton," teased Rowena.

  "It might be rather dull after the exciting life I've led. Just think of it, Rowena. I could be a gentleman spy. It sounds like quite the life, doesn't it?"

  Rowena shook her head at his irrepressible enthusiasm. She could tell that it
was his high spirits and volatile nature that both made him so charming and caused him so much trouble.

  "Perhaps you would enjoy it. But I cannot abide this skulking about. Malcolm, you must tell me where I can reach you. You aren't staying with Lady Bingham, are you?"

  "Lord, no." Malcolm shrugged. "She may have brought me here, but she won't risk her neck by keeping me in her house. I've got a room at the White Swan. It's not a nice part of London, but I'm used to that. You can reach me there."

  "You will probably be glad to settle down and become a sober peer, managing your rolling estates," said Rowena thoughtfully. "I would think you've had enough of excitement in your life."

  Malcolm shuddered. "Never. I won't be like father, holing up in Yorkshire all year 'round. I need gaiety and fun. And I'll have enough of it soon. You found the pearl, didn't you?"

  Rowena bit her lip. She had been wondering ever since she arrived how much she should tell Malcolm about what had happened. She had no desire to further inflame his anger towards Alaric, but it was imperative that he understand he must not interfere.

  "No, I didn't," she said. "The pearl wasn't in the safe."

  "Are you sure? Perhaps you didn't search thoroughly enough. Did you look in every box and corner?" Malcolm appeared to be quite agitated.

  Rowena nodded her head firmly. "I looked everywhere. I promise you, Malcolm, Alaric does not have it in his possession."

  "Damn it!" Malcolm's expression changed from one of anxiety to sheer rage. He swung his arm as though he wished to punch something. "The bastard must have learned what we were up to. He knew you would be looking for it. He hid it somewhere else. I should have known he'd be a step or two ahead of me."

  Rowena seized his arm and pulled on it, trying to calm him down. "Malcolm, you mustn't get upset. Remember, you promised me that you would believe that Alaric was not the murderer if the Pearl of Sirsi was not in that safe. You can't imagine that he has it somewhere else, when it is so clearly where he keeps all his most valuable items."

  Malcolm stared down at her, his eyes full of pain. "I cannot believe that he had no knowledge of this. I know the man; he's in league with the devil. He must have somehow found out about our plans."

  Rowena looked away. Alaric had known that she would search the safe because Lady Bingham had told him. But if she told Malcolm that he would be sure that Alaric had removed the pearl. She had to somehow convince him to believe her, and to leave the country for now.

  "Malcolm, you must let go of this wild notion of yours. Alaric does not have the pearl. Another person plotted to cast the blame for this crime on you both, because he or she craved the pearl. You must not blame my husband any longer. He is as much a victim of circumstance as you are." Rowena gripped Malcolm's arm as she spoke, willing him to believe her.

  Malcolm shook his head. "It cannot be. This was my last chance, Rowena. If Brayleigh does not have the pearl, there is no hope for me." His voice trailed off.

  "Nonsense," answered Rowena, trying her best to sound certain. "Just because Alaric is not guilty doesn't mean we cannot find out who is. It will just take some time and effort. I will be glad to help you, but you must promise me you will stop pursuing Alaric."

  Malcolm stared at the ground. "I was so certain it would be in the safe. Do you think he might have hidden it somewhere else?"

  "No, I don't," snapped Rowena. "Really, Malcolm, you are impossible to talk to. Alaric is innocent, and you must accept that."

  Her brother looked up, and Rowena could see that his face was very pale. "But I have believed that for twelve years. How could it be anyone else?"

  "Many people also believe you are guilty, but that does not make it so. I am losing all patience with you. Malcolm, you must promise me that you will leave England until I can begin to unravel this mystery. I swear I will contact you as soon as I have information that can help you."

  Malcolm looked at her thoughtfully. "You really believe Brayleigh is innocent, don't you?"

  "Of course I do. He is very kind, Malcolm. He would no more be capable of doing such a thing than you are."

  "Perhaps he has simply seduced you with his charms. He always was a ladies' man. He could wrap them around his little finger."

  "I am not infatuated, Malcolm. I see quite clearly what is going on around me. Please, you must promise that you will do as I ask."

  "I can't go back to the Continent, Rowena. I don't ever want to leave England again. I belong here." The spirit seemed to have drained out of Malcolm, and Rowena was torn to see him looking so wounded.

  "It is only for a little time. I promise I will write to you and tell you what is happening. I don't want to lose you again."

  Malcolm put an arm around her shoulders and drew her to him, hugging her close. "Perhaps you are right," he murmured. "Perhaps I have wasted twelve years blaming the wrong man."

  Rowena felt a great surge of relief roll through her. She would be able to convince him that she was right. Then she could restore her relationship with Alaric and begin an investigation into what had really happened. In time, everything would be all right.

  "What a pretty picture." The words cut across Rowena's pleasure, and she gave a gasp when Malcolm let go of her and swung around. Alaric was standing only a few feet from them, his green eyes filled with anger.

  Malcolm bit out an oath at the sudden appearance of his old enemy, and Rowena took a hasty step to stand between the two men.

  "What are you doing here, Brayleigh?" demanded Malcolm.

  "I believe I should be asking that question of you, Arlingby," said Alaric. "You are the one wanted by the law."

  "Because of you," spat out Malcolm. "You and your greed and spite. You ruined me, damn you."

  "You ruined yourself." Alaric's voice was harsh. "Don't blame me for your stupidity." He reached out and grasped Rowena's arm, pulling her towards him. "But I do not care what you think. I came only for my wife."

  "Why are you here, Alaric?" asked Rowena hurriedly. She must find a way to get rid of him. Malcolm was so close to acceding to her wishes.

  "I followed you, my dear. Did you think you had fooled me this morning? It was obvious that missive was from your prodigal brother." Alaric gave her a scornful glance. "You are not a very talented conspirator."

  "I have not conspired," protested Rowena.

  "Yesterday I find you searching my safe, and today I find you meeting your brother, despite my express orders forbidding you to do so. That looks like conspiracy to me."

  "He discovered you searching the safe? You didn't tell me that," said Malcolm. "Are you all right? Did he hit you?"

  "Of course not--" began Rowena, but Alaric's voice cut across hers, heavy with anger.

  "I would never hit a woman, even one who treated me as your sister has. I was taken in by your plot, Arlingby, but you will get no satisfaction from it. You can't cast me as a murderer. I don't have the pearl."

  "Why didn't you tell me of this?" demanded Malcolm. He seized Rowena's other arm and shook her slightly.

  "Because I knew you'd act like a fool," she said sharply. "Exactly as you are now. And you are no exception, my lord," she snapped, turning on Alaric. "It was unnecessary that you follow me. I can handle this on my own."

  "I will not allow my wife to conspire against me," said Alaric. "You married me, and although you did that only in an attempt to destroy me, you are still my wife. You will behave properly."

  "What is he talking about?" asked Malcolm.

  "He thinks we have been plotting for many years to destroy him," said Rowena wearily. "He is convinced I married him so I could prove him to be the murderer."

  Malcolm looked stunned. "What a marvelous idea. I wonder why I didn't think of it?"

  Rowena made an exasperated sound as Alaric jerked her out of Malcolm's grasp.

  "Don't dissemble, Arlingby," snapped Alaric. "Your plot has been revealed to me. I did not believe Rowena would stoop to such a level, but when I found her searching my safe, I knew it was
the truth. But it shall go no farther than this."

  A look of dawning enlightenment covered Malcolm's face. "So you didn't discover her accidentally. Someone told you that she would be there."

  Alaric snorted. "Your friend, Lady Bingham, was kind enough to inform me. You should choose your friends better. I could not believe my wife would do such a thing, but I soon found out she was truly your sister and capable of any crime."

  "So he did have time to remove the pearl!" A look of triumph came over Malcolm's face. "You see Rowena, he does have it. He simply moved it somewhere else. I knew I could not be mistaken."

  Rowena wanted to fall into strong hysterics as she saw all her plans collapse around her. She had come so close to achieving her goal, and now everything was ruined. Alaric and Malcolm were equally convinced the other was a criminal, and there was now no chance she would be able to get them to work together.

  "Be quiet, Malcolm. You aren't helping."

  "Damn it, I won't have him bullying you."

  "He's not bullying me," answered Rowena. She looked at Alaric, and the frozen glare in his eyes made her heart sink further.

  "Come with me now, Rowena. I'll take care of you. We'll think of a way to clear my name." Malcolm pulled her towards him, and Alaric promptly tightened his grip on her other arm.

  "Let go of me!" said Rowena, her voice rising. "Both of you!" she continued, when they glared at one another accusingly. The men released her arms and she turned towards Malcolm, determined to mend the damage caused by Alaric's appearance.

  "Please Malcolm, be sensible. A few minutes ago you were willing to accept the fact that Alaric is innocent. What has happened since then?"

  "First, he crept up on us like some sort of spy," said Malcolm fiercely. "What business does he have following you about? Arlingbys are trustworthy."

  "I found your sister searching my personal safe in an attempt to prove me to be a murderer." Alaric's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Hardly the act of a trustworthy person."