That Infamous Pearl

by Alicia Quigley

  Rowena stamped her foot. "You are unbearably stubborn. I cannot tolerate this for another moment. You will obviously believe as you choose, but you have no right to dictate my actions to me. If I want to stand on the balcony with Mr. Grantly, I shall."

  Alaric took a step closer and stood staring down at her. His eyes were very cold. "You will do no such thing. If you attempt it, Rowena, you will not like what happens."

  "As though it matters," cried Rowena. "As though watching you flirt with Mrs. Peckham while you treat me so unkindly is not enough punishment. Do you think I enjoy watching you, Alaric?"

  "I think that you married me solely in an attempt to gain revenge for your brother. I cannot imagine why my talking to other women might upset you."

  Rowena bit her lip. This was certainly no time to admit that she loved her husband; he was so angry with her that he would only use the information to hurt her.

  "It is unkind of you to hold me up to ridicule," she said. "You use me as you would a mistress; I see nothing of you unless you wish to make love to me. Am I nothing more to you than that?"

  Alaric stiffened. "I treat you as I would a mistress?" he repeated. He glared at her. "You don't know what you're talking about, Rowena. The world of those women is something you could never imagine."

  "It must certainly be preferable to the way you treat me," Rowena retorted. "At least you show them some kindness from time to time, I imagine. I have had nothing from you but coldness this past week."

  "And you believe you deserve more?" asked Alaric, his voice filled with contempt.

  "I am your wife, not your mistress. You should treat me decently, and trust me. I meant only to be helpful, Alaric. You cannot truly think I wanted to harm you."

  "Yes, you are my wife." Alaric looked at her thoughtfully. "And I treat you very well, Rowena. You have anything you might ask for, and are respected because of who you are. You have nothing in common with my mistresses."

  "I would rather be your mistress," said Rowena angrily. "At least then when you came to me at night you might pay some attention to me."

  Alaric gave a short laugh and seized her arm. "Come with me, Rowena."

  She pulled back, unwilling to accompany him. "I wish to remain here."

  "You will come with me now, Rowena, and quietly, or I will pick you up and carry you. Do you understand?"

  Rowena looked up into his implacable face and saw that he meant what he had said. Alaric was stubborn enough to carry her, protesting, through a ballroom. He wouldn't care in the least what anyone said about it.

  "Very well," she said with ill grace.

  Alaric hurried her back into the ballroom and out of the building, without even pausing to say good night to their hostess. Rowena glared at him as he thrust her into their carriage.

  "Where are we going?" she asked.

  "Home." Alaric folded his arms across his chest and gazed at her. It was obvious that he had no intention of explaining anything to her. Rowena shrugged and looked out the windows, ignoring him as much as she could.

  Chapter 28

  When they reached their house Alaric assisted her out of the carriage and into the front hall. He looked at Ferguson, who was standing nearby.

  "Is the supper ready?" he asked.

  "Of course, sir," he answered. "It is awaiting you in the upstairs sitting room."

  Alaric nodded. "I took the liberty of asking Cook to prepare a small supper for us to enjoy after the ball. Come along."

  He seized Rowena's elbow and hurried her up the stairs to the sitting room. Rowena looked around, momentarily charmed. A fire was lit in the grate and candles burned brightly in the wall sconces, illuminating the charmingly furnished room. A table sat near the fire, covered with brilliant white linens and sparkling silver and crystal, and an elegant dinner was spread out and waiting for them. She drew in a tiny breath of surprise.

  "Alaric, why did you do this? I thought..."

  Alaric frowned at her. "I meant to discuss with you calmly exactly how we would conduct our marriage. Believe it or not, I am unhappy as you are with the situation we find ourselves in, and wished to come to some sort of an understanding in which we could at least live with one another comfortably. But then tonight I find out that you think I have been treating you as I would a mistress. You have a great deal to learn, Rowena."

  "I don't see why," said Rowena. "You use your mistresses for your pleasure, and that is how you have been using me. Can you deny it?"

  Alaric grimaced. Try as he might, and despite the obvious availability of Mrs. Peckham, it was only Rowena he wanted. He hated the thought that she still had this power over him, despite her duplicity and the way in which she had treated him. It was as though he had no control over his own desires, he thought resentfully.

  "Perhaps you would like to know how I might treat a woman I had bought and paid for," murmured Alaric. "What if you were totally in my power, with no recourse, no family, no money? What if I were to tell you that you would take off your clothes and service me, now, this moment, whether you chose to or not?"

  Rowena stepped back, frightened by the black look on his face. She had never seen Alaric like this, not even when he was at his most angry with her.

  "Stay away from me!" she exclaimed, backing further away as quickly as possible. She looked nervously towards the door.

  Alaric gave a humorless laugh. "You see, I haven't treated you as poorly as you think. If you ever truly wished to turn me away, I would honor that. But you have never made me think that that was what you wanted." He moved closer to her, the terrible expression receding from his face, and lay his hands on her shoulders.

  She shuddered, and then looked up at him as he leaned over her, wondering if he was still angry with her.

  Alaric gazed down at her and fought the desire to pull her into his arms and hold her close. She was so desirable, so lovely, so tantalizing, and it tore at him to think that she had deceived him. How could he live knowing that he needed her but couldn't trust her?

  "Tell me what is wrong, Alaric," she said softly. "We must defeat what has come between us. I can't live this way any longer."

  "Nor can I," said Alaric. He led her to the table and seated her, and then took the chair across from her and looked at her thoughtfully.

  "Alaric, I cannot go on this way," said Rowena. "I'm sorry I lied to you, but I did not mean to hurt you. If you cannot believe that, then I think that it is best that I go away. I inherited some of my mother's lands; I have a home of my own in Yorkshire. If I went there you would not have to see me, and I would not have to watch you with...with other women. Perhaps that would be for the best. I could continue to pursue my father's studies. He said I had the making of a scholar."

  She looked up to find that Alaric was staring at her in amazement. Her offer had taken him completely off guard. He could never let her go far away, he knew, because his need for her was almost overpowering. But he also realized, with a sudden flash of insight, that if she left him she could not continue to pursue her revenge. Why was she offering to go away?

  "Surely you do not mean to go into permanent retirement?" he asked.

  Rowena shrugged. "There is nothing here in London for me. You no longer spend time with me, and if Malcolm is to be a life-long outcast I will be unable to see him, anyway. At least in Yorkshire I wouldn't have to put up with the gossip and the pity."

  "And what of me?" asked Alaric.

  Rowena looked surprised. "I may have already conceived, and if I have not you may come to Yorkshire from time to time in order to--well, to--I am sure you understand me, Alaric."

  She looked down at her hands. In a perverse way she hoped she was not pregnant; as long as Alaric needed a child he would still spend at least some time with her. She knew that she would be able to occupy her time in Yorkshire with her studies and duties on the estate, but she would miss Alaric dreadfully; he had become an integral part of her life. But perhaps it would be better if she gave him a son quickly. If he contin
ued to come in and out of her life, each new separation would be renewed agony.

  Alaric frowned. "What makes you think I wish to be separated from you?"

  "You can hardly tell me that your recent behavior is designed to make me think you enjoy my company," said Rowena, some of her spirit returning. "I have been miserable this past week. I would prefer it if you would stop punishing me and let me go away."

  Alaric shook his head. He had a sudden blinding vision of what his life would be like without Rowena. He would return to his collecting, which he now realized he had not thought about at all in the past two months. He had not added a single item to his collection since he had begun his pursuit of Rowena. He would return to his mistresses and his long nights at his club, or visit gambling dens with Charles, or attend prizefights. There would be no one to share his afternoons with, or to sleep with at night, and no one to frustrate him and make him laugh. He glared at Rowena. How had she managed to insinuate herself so thoroughly into his life in such a short period of time?

  "Believe me, Rowena, if I meant to punish you, it would be much more severe," he grated out.

  "Well, it feels like punishment," said Rowena. "I can't bear to be treated so coldly, to know that you think I have been lying to you, that you don't believe my affection for you is honest. I miss the time we used to spend together, Alaric, and the fun we had."

  "You think I'm fun?" said Alaric slowly. No one had ever suggested that before.

  "Of course I do," said Rowena. "Why else would I have allowed you to spend so much time with me when we first met? I was bored to tears in London before I met you."

  Alaric ran a hand through his hair. Rowena looked like some sort of nymph, sitting on the couch across from him, her nakedness covered only by his coat. With a sense of annoyance, he realized he was becoming aroused again.

  "You cannot go away," he said abruptly.

  Rowena looked startled. "Surely you don't want to continue living this way," she answered softly. "Perhaps it is not as unpleasant for you as it is for me, but this cannot be the way you wish to conduct our lives."

  "It is very unpleasant for me," Alaric snapped. "But we are married and we shall live together."

  "Alaric, I cannot," whispered Rowena. "Please let me go."

  Alaric stood up. Her evident unhappiness tore at him. Did she want to leave because she hated him and knew he had won the little game she was playing? Or did she perhaps truly care for him and was hurt by his coldness?

  "Rowena, why do you want to leave me?" he demanded. "Surely if you mean to pursue your aim of clearing Malcolm's name, then you would need to remain in London."

  "As long as you do not trust me, there is nothing I can do," cried Rowena. "I hoped to find the true criminal with your help, but you believe I wish to hurt you. What can I do? I would rather be far away, where I do not have to see how much you hate me."

  "I don't hate you," Alaric ground out.

  Rowena looked up. "You don't?"

  "No, I don't. I don't know what I think anymore, thanks to you. You have completely turned my life upside down. I was once a very satisfied man, Rowena--or at least my life was ordered--and now I don't know what to believe."

  "But you don't hate me," repeated Rowena.

  "God help me, no." Alaric sat down again and stared at her.

  Rowena reached out tentatively and laid a hand on his arm. "Do you think that you might come to trust me again?"

  "Aren't you asking a bit much?" said Alaric grimly.

  "Alaric, I have never tried to hurt you. I promise that I was not plotting against you with Malcolm. You believed Lady Bingham instead, when you know that she will do anything to hurt our marriage. I know you are angry with me, but it hurts that you would take her word before mine. Please try to understand why I behaved as I did. If you would only agree to meet with Malcolm, and speak to him, perhaps the two of you could come to believe in each other's innocence."

  Alaric shook his head slowly. "No matter what conclusion I come to, Rowena, your brother will never believe that I am not a killer. He has hated me for years."

  "I had almost convinced him that day in Green Park until you arrived and made him so angry," said Rowena. "He wants to believe me, I think. I am his sister, after all. He wouldn't want me to be married to a killer. And he knows that I believe in you."

  Alaric drew a deep breath. If she was leading him into another trap he stood a good chance of being made a fool of again. But her arguments were persuasive. Why should he put more faith in Lady Bingham's word than in Rowena's? He knew from experience that Rowena was by far the more honorable woman, and that Marguerite would do anything she could to hurt him. She had been trying to drive a wedge between him and Rowena for months. Had he allowed her to succeed at last?

  Rowena's violet eyes shimmered with tears. "Please, Alaric. If we can put this matter behind us, it will make a great difference in our lives. I would do anything to repair the harm I have caused, but there is no way I can make it better except by convincing you that I speak the truth. Please meet with my brother."

  "What makes you think Malcolm will wish to meet with me?"

  Rowena grimaced. "He won't; he is almost as stubborn as you. But he knows that he can never come home until this mystery is fully solved. That will be enough inducement for him."

  Alaric shrugged. Perhaps he was being an idiot, walking into a trap with his eyes wide open. But he couldn't stand being estranged from Rowena. He had to know for sure if she was honest or not. This was the only way to find out.

  "I will meet with Malcolm," he said softly. "But," he added, raising his voice as Rowena gave a tiny shriek of excitement, "But that does not mean that I will believe him."

  "I am sure you will be convinced, Alaric." Rowena bobbed up and down with joy. "Thank you, Alaric. You will not regret this, I promise you."

  She stood suddenly and rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. After a moment's hesitation, he stood and placed his arms around her and drew her close.

  "I hope not," he said. "And in the meantime, I think we should get you to bed."

  Rowena looked up and smiled. "Only if you come with me."

  "Trust me. You will not be alone tonight." Alaric swept her up in his arms and carried her out of the room.

  Chapter 29

  Rowena paced up and down the library, eying Alaric nervously. He looked up from the book he was reading and watched her as she moved back and forth across the room, realizing that it had been an incredible relief to him to finally discuss the anger that lay between them, and to find that he might not be estranged from her forever. The wound that had been opened by her lies was partially healed now, and he felt a glimmer of hope that all would be well. But he needed to tread carefully. If this was yet another trap, it could prove fatal for him.

  "There is no need for this anxiety, Rowena. I gave you my word to listen to Malcolm, and I will do so."

  Rowena sighed. "I am sure you will, Alaric. But how do I know he will listen to you? And what if you do not believe him? I could not stand to see the two of you quarrel again. This is all the world to me."

  Alaric closed the book and stood up, walking over to her and taking her hands in his. Rowena closed her eyes, savoring his closeness. She could remember few times that Alaric had offered her a spontaneous caress unconnected to lovemaking.

  "I am already half-convinced that you are right," he said soothingly. "You were very eloquent on your brother's behalf. And I should not take Marguerite's word over yours or anyone else's. Even a flighty fellow like Malcolm may be more reliable than she is."

  "Malcolm is not flighty," protested Rowena. "He is rash, and heedless perhaps, but he means well."

  "I will not comment on the materials the road to hell is constructed with," murmured Alaric, squeezing her hands gently. "Your brother and I have a difficult past behind us, but I believe I can set it aside for your sake, and for the sake of solving this troublesome mystery. All that is necessary is that he be willing t
o do the same thing."

  "I am sure he will be," said Rowena, though even to her own ears her voice sounded uncertain. Malcolm, she had learned, was inclined to be headstrong.

  Ferguson opened the door and paused when he saw his master and mistress standing so close together. With a gentle smile Alaric set her aside, and Ferguson bowed.

  "A gentleman is here to see you, my lord. He says his name is Bates." Ferguson managed to convey the distinct impression that he did not believe this for a moment.

  Alaric suppressed a smile. "Send him in, Ferguson. We are expecting him."

  Ferguson bowed again and exited, and a few moments later Malcolm appeared in the doorway. He wore the same brown wig that he had been sporting in Green Park, and Rowena had to stifle a giggle at his appearance, for it had slipped slightly and his own blonde hair could be seen underneath it.

  "Come in, Malcolm," she said hastily, coming forward and taking his hand. He smiled and gave her a brief hug, and then turned towards Alaric with a challenging look.

  "Good morning, Brayleigh," he said.

  Alaric stepped forward and extended his hand. "God morning, Arlingby. Or should I say Wroxton? You are the new Earl."

  A certain tension seemed to go out of Malcolm. "Since my father's unfortunate death last year," he answered. "That is one of the reasons I returned to England."

  "That and the news that your sister had married the devil, I gather," said Alaric.

  Malcolm stiffened. "I was concerned, naturally. I had no reason to think that you meant anything but harm to members of my family."

  Alaric raised an eyebrow. "You always were rash, Wroxton. Did you really think I had been plotting for twelve years to increase your misery by marrying your sister?"

  "I think you were ripe for any sort of mischief that might hurt me or my family." Malcolm's voice rose as he spoke.

  "You delude yourself. I have had a great many things to think of in the past twelve years besides you and the Arlingbys. Vengeance has not been a consuming passion of mine--though it would seem to have dominated your life. What a pity." Alaric sneered slightly.