That Infamous Pearl

by Alicia Quigley

  "Damn you, Brayleigh. I came here because Rowena assured me that you would be reasonable. I see that you have fooled us both once again. No doubt the magistrates will be coming to arrest me at any moment. I knew I should not have trusted you." Malcolm's hands clenched into fists and he took a threatening step towards Alaric.

  "Stop it this instant!" Rowena's voice cut through the ominous atmosphere of the room like a knife. "I have no idea what the two of you think you're doing, but this is utterly ridiculous. Can't you spend two minutes together without quarrelling?"

  Alaric tore his eyes from Malcolm's angry face and turned towards Rowena. Her face was flushed, and her spine alarmingly straight. She looked as though she would quite happily tear them both to shreds. The tightness around his mouth disappeared and he smiled slightly.

  "I apologize, my dear. It seems that your brother brings out my worst instincts. I am afraid it was always this way."

  "You should apologize to Malcolm, not to me. He is a guest in our home, and he deserves to be courteously treated."

  Alaric looked faintly taken aback, but he turned to Malcolm and smiled slightly. "Rowena is right. You deserve better. My apologies, Wroxton."

  Rowena turned to her brother, who looked startled and suspicious. "And you will apologize as well, Malcolm. You came in here looking for a fight, and it is hardly surprising that Alaric obliged you, under the circumstances."

  "Dash it, Rowena, how can you stand it? The man acts as though he's royalty, ordering everyone about--"

  "That's enough, Malcolm. I asked you to apologize, and you will do so. Alaric is no longer the same man you knew twelve years ago. The two of you need to forget this ridiculous competition you have indulged in and begin to behave as the adults you supposedly are."

  Malcolm stared at his sister. "Lord, Rowena, when did you become such a termagant? You were such a quiet little girl. I'd say your husband needs to take you to task. You can't talk to us like that."

  Alaric grinned and offered his hand to Malcolm again. "You see, Wroxton, I am quite henpecked. Do you think I would have saddled myself with a shrew like that for any reason except my own desires? I believe the two of us need to work together, if only to prevent her from riding roughshod over us."

  Malcolm took the proffered hand and shook it, still giving Rowena a dubious look. "I apologize, Brayleigh, for my hasty words. It was wrong of me to presume you meant me harm."

  "And I apologize for my remarks. It is difficult for me to remember that we are supposed to be friends now. I will try to do better in the future."

  The men stopped and looked at Rowena, who nodded approvingly. "That is much better. I believe that we can progress from here."

  "Please sit down, Wroxton," said Alaric, indicating a high-backed chair and moving towards a low table where a crystal decanter and tray of glasses awaited. "May I offer you some brandy?"

  "Thank you." Malcolm took the glass and drained it in one gulp. "I never thought I'd be in this house again. Do you remember the last time I was here?"

  "Vividly. You threatened my life, I believe, and I responded by telling you to go to the devil." Alaric took a sip of his own brandy and settled into a chair across from Malcolm.

  "Which I did, unfortunately. I've lost twelve years of my life, Brayleigh. You can hardly blame me for being bitter."

  "It is a pity that you wasted your hatred on the wrong person. I did not kill Ingram." Alaric raised his eyes and looked directly at Malcolm. "It is necessary that you believe that before we go any further. I will not have you abusing Rowena's trust in an attempt to pin his death on me."

  Malcolm's eyes narrowed. "I would never hurt Rowena in such a way. And how do I know that you are not doing exactly what you suspect me of? I have no guarantee that you did not marry Rowena in an attempt to lure me back here and turn me in."

  Rowena sighed audibly. "It seems the two of you will simply have to forget your past suspicions. I have no trouble believing you both to be innocent. Why cannot you each make the same assumption?"

  Alaric surveyed her over the top of his glass. "We lack the habit of trust, I believe. It is one of your most charming qualities, my dear, but Malcolm and I have been put through a great deal in the past, and we each believed the other to be at fault. That is a difficult thing to dismiss."

  "You will have to trust one another," said Rowena flatly. "Or, you will have to trust me when I tell you that each of you is innocent. Will that suit you?"

  Alaric looked at her consideringly. "Very well. I will take your word for it, Rowena. If you say Malcolm is innocent, I will believe you, despite the evidence to the contrary."

  Malcolm gaped at him. "You are taking Rowena's word for it? Brayleigh is accepting the judgment of another?"

  Alaric rose and brought the brandy decanter over to his chair, and poured both himself and Malcolm another glass. "You see, Rowena has wrought a remarkable change in me," he murmured.

  "I'll say she has. Are you in love with her, Brayleigh?" Malcolm took another sip of the brandy and fixed Alaric with an accusing eye.

  Alaric blanched. "I respect your sister greatly," he said softly. "Her opinion carries a great deal of weight with me."

  Malcolm laughed shortly. "So you haven't changed completely. Still no heart, eh? Well, if you can trust your wife, I can surely trust my sister. We are in agreement; neither one of us killed Ingram. What do we do now? Any suggestions, Rowena?"

  Chapter 30

  Rowena jumped. When Malcolm had asked Alaric his startling question, her heart had begun to pound in her chest, almost drowning out her husband's reply. She could expect nothing more than his respect, she thought fiercely. After the turbulent past few weeks she was lucky to have even that. And she could hardly expect him to admit to Malcolm that he loved her. But she still felt a sense of emptiness at his response.

  "Suggestions?" she stammered.

  "Now that we are agreed on our collective innocence, we need to proceed with discovering who is the real killer," said Malcolm. "You have been thinking about this far longer than either Brayleigh or myself. How do you suggest we go about investigating this matter?"

  "Yes, enlighten us, Rowena," said Alaric teasingly. "You have been pestering me about this since we met. How should we proceed?"

  Rowena glowered at him. "You know very well that I have no plan. It has taken all my wit and energy to get the two of you in the same room without killing each other. I have had no time at all to waste on the true culprit."

  "It seems that we will have to begin from the beginning," said Alaric. "If I did not do it and Malcolm did not do it, then who did?"

  "Someone who wanted the Pearl of Sirsi?" suggested Rowena. "Surely there are other collectors of antique objects who would have an interest in it."

  "Perhaps. Dennington is a collector, and Yarling has an extensive, though indiscriminate, accumulation of jewels and precious stones."

  "Yarling...I hadn't considered him. I could see Yarling doing it," said Malcolm.

  "Why?" asked Rowena. "Is he particularly villainous?"

  "He's got red hair," explained Malcolm. "I've never liked red hair."

  "Unfortunately, that is not enough of a reason," observed Alaric. "And I seem to recollect that Yarling was out of the country twelve years ago, visiting his Irish estates. He could hardly have orchestrated this crime from there. No, I think Yarling is not our culprit. And Dennington is far too old; even that long ago he was confined to a bath chair. He wouldn't make a suitable suspect."

  "What a pity. Is there no one else?" asked Rowena.

  "Not that I can think of," said Alaric. "Most collectors are fairly straightforward people. They offer to buy something, and if it is not forthcoming they retire from the field. I am an exception, of course, but even I have never killed to satisfy my desires."

  "Then why would someone else go to all this trouble?" demanded Malcolm.

  "Possibly to get rid of you, Malcolm," said Alaric. "You will notice that this little plot worked very wel
l to get you out of the way. Who would stand to profit from your death?"

  Malcolm shook his head. "I can't think of anyone. I had my share of enemies, but you were chief among them, Brayleigh, and we have agreed you are not to blame. I had nothing much that anyone would envy me."

  "You were heir to an earldom," pointed out Alaric. "And now that your father has died, someone besides you is the Earl of Wroxton."

  Rowena's mouth fell open. "Cousin Felix? Do you think cousin Felix could have done it?"

  "It is a possibility. He was the person with the most to gain from Malcolm's death or disappearance."

  "It can't be Felix," objected Malcolm. "He's got to be fifty if he's a day, and he's dead boring. It wouldn't occur to him to do anything so drastic. Besides, he didn't need the money. He's a rich man in his own right. Inherited a pile from old great-aunt Augusta."

  "Perhaps he wanted the title," argued Rowena. "And he would have been only thirty-eight twelve years ago. Perhaps he craved the title, not the money. Maybe," she said, warming to her argument, "Margaret wouldn't marry him without a title, or at least the promise of one. He may have been driven to such a crime in order to win his bride."

  "They were married fourteen years ago, before any of this happened," said Malcolm bluntly. "I remember the wedding; Father made me go to it. Deuced dull affair, and the champagne was terrible. Margaret couldn't have been happier with Felix, title or no title; her family was just barely making ends meet before she landed him. I'm sure he's been supporting the lot of them ever since."

  Rowena's face fell. "Well, perhaps she began to work on him after the marriage. Perhaps her ambitions grew grander as time passed."

  Malcolm gave her a pitying glance. "I don't see it, Rowena. Margaret has no more ambition than a mouse. She wouldn't let Felix come to town after their marriage and dresses only in gray and brown; not the sort of woman who wants to make a splash in the world."

  "It does seem to be a weak theory," admitted Alaric. "Though it would have suited us admirably. Does no one else dislike you, Malcolm?"

  "Scores of people," said Malcolm cheerfully. "But none of them would go to such lengths to do away with me. Any of the men I knew would have challenged me to a duel or had me shot by a footpad. Whoever did this went to a great deal of trouble to concoct a complex plot. Looks like something a woman would do."

  "What do you mean by that?" demanded Rowena. "Are you implying that women are less bold and more given to deceit than men?"

  "Not at all, not at all. Don't get yourself in a tizzy, Rowena," pleaded Malcolm. "Dash it all, when did you get so touchy? I only meant that none of the men I knew would have had that sort of finesse. Took a lot of planning, and a thorough knowledge of what both Alaric and I were up to, after all."

  "What women disliked you?" asked Rowena curiously.

  "None of 'em," said Malcolm smugly. "I was very popular with the ladies."

  Alaric laughed. "Surely you had hurt the feelings of one or two here or there," he said. "What of Melinda Marlowe?"

  Malcolm flushed and glanced at Rowena. "That blew over quickly. And I can hardly see Melinda Marlowe creeping about with a pistol in an orchard, damn it."

  "No, you are right," said Alaric. "I don't think she would have done it. What a shame. All our leads are going nowhere."

  "What did you do to Melinda Marlowe?" asked Rowena curiously.

  "Nothing, nothing at all. That is entirely beside the point," said Malcolm hastily. "We are discussing who may have wanted me dead."

  "I think we should consider another possibility," said Rowena slowly. "What if the plot was aimed not at Malcolm, but rather at Alaric?"

  "What are you talking about?" asked Malcolm crossly. "It was I who was almost hung."

  "Yes, I know that," said Rowena. "But what if the person who planned this was meaning to implicate Alaric, and you simply got in the way?"

  "What do you mean, Rowena?' asked Alaric, leaning forward in his chair.

  "Perhaps it was intended that you were to appear to have killed Ingram. After all, you were the one who had made a great deal of fuss about this ridiculous pearl. It would have seemed to someone with a grudge against you to be the perfect opportunity. Perhaps it was intended to look as though you had shot Ingram, but Malcolm arrived at the wrong moment. As the story was told to me, Malcolm decided to drive out to Merton on the spur of the moment; how did the killer know to be there and to shoot Ingram?"

  Malcolm looked surprised. "I hadn't thought of that. I rushed out of the house the minute I heard you had offered Ingram such a large sum for the pearl, Brayleigh. No one knew I was on my way there. How could the killer have known I would be present?"

  Alaric leaned back in his chair and studied the brandy in his glass with a dark gaze. "That is an interesting question. Because I had an appointment with Ingram to purchase the pearl that morning, Malcolm. I was supposed to meet him in the orchard at his house exactly one half-hour after he was killed."

  "You were? You never told me that." Rowena looked surprised.

  "It didn't seem important. The man was dead when I got there. But I'm sure Malcolm wondered at the time how I arrived on the scene so quickly."

  "I did. I thought you'd come to gloat. It was another reason I was sure you'd killed him," said Malcolm bluntly.

  "So if the killer knew your schedule, perhaps he hid in the orchard, waiting for you to arrive. When he heard Malcolm's carriage, he presumed it was you arriving early, Alaric, and he shot Ingram. But it was Malcolm who had come, not his true quarry. Think how disappointed he must have been!" Rowena clapped her hands, delighted with her theory.

  "Not to mention my disappointment," interposed Malcolm. There was a small pause.

  "It's possible," said Alaric. "I hadn't thought of myself as the target before, because I simply believed Malcolm had allowed his temper to get the better of him. But now there is the distinct possibility that he disrupted someone else's carefully laid plans."

  "Or she," interposed Malcolm. "I said before that this seemed like something a woman would do. Marguerite was very angry with you, Alaric. You'd thrown her out on her ear, saying you'd never marry her, even if she got a divorce from old Bingham. I'd say she was ready to do anything to hurt you. You should have heard the things she had to say about you! I certainly was bored with the subject after a few weeks in her company."

  "Lady Bingham! She is the perfect suspect," crowed Rowena. "She is certainly spiteful, and I can vouch for her creativity. Do you remember what she and Voxley attempted to do to me, Alaric?"

  "I do," said Alaric grimly. "But that hardly makes her guilty. We need more proof than the fact that she had a motive and we all dislike her."

  "I don't dislike her," said Malcolm frankly. "I have fond memories of, er...our time together. She made my first few months on the Continent bearable. But that doesn't mean she doesn't have a vicious streak. I'd hate to be on the wrong side of it."

  "Precisely," said Rowena. "And she would have known your calendar, Alaric. Who else but your mistress would have been certain that you were going to Merton that morning?"

  "She was no longer my mistress," Alaric pointed out. "Otherwise there would have been no need for her to get revenge."

  "But she knew the servants in your home, and could have bribed one of them," said Rowena. "That would have been very easy for her to do, wouldn't it?"

  "I suppose so," admitted Alaric. "She spent a good deal of time at my house and I did not make a general announcement to servants that she had been...dismissed."

  "There, she must have done it," said Rowena. "Now we simply have to prove it."

  "Therein lies the problem," said Alaric. "After twelve years it will be difficult to discover anything at all, much less proof."

  "Well, we must begin somewhere," said Rowena. "I think I should pretend to Lady Bingham that I am investigating Ingram's murder. After all, she is the one who brought Malcolm back to England, so she surely knows I will be curious about it. I will ask her to tell me
everything she knows, and perhaps she will say something incriminating. I have never received the impression that she is particularly intelligent, and she will hardly think I suspect her."

  "No, she will try to implicate me," said Alaric. "She has been trying to do that for twelve years now."

  "Which is simply more evidence that she is the murderer," said Rowena promptly. "Why else would she be so persistent?"

  "If she is the killer, you will do nothing so dangerous as to speak to her," ordered Alaric. "You are as likely as she is to allow something to slip."

  "That is unfair. I do not have a great deal of experience at conspiracy, but I believe I could be quite good at it," said Rowena.

  "You were not particularly skilled at hiding your meetings with Malcolm from me," observed Alaric. "I shudder to think what you might reveal to Marguerite."

  "I am not as scatterbrained as you believe, Alaric. I hardly think that deceiving Lady Bingham will be particularly difficult; she believes that everyone is as venal as she is herself. Unless you believe her intellect to be superior to mine?"

  Alaric's lips twitched. "Of course not. But you are certainly impetuous and headstrong, and I am reluctant to put you into any type of dangerous situation. If Marguerite did indeed kill Ingram twelve years ago--and I have to say that I find it highly unlikely--then she is a person to be avoided. There is no reason to think that she would not kill again."

  "She can shoot," said Malcolm suddenly. "I've seen her. Said her father taught her; thought she should be able to take care of herself. And that's one thing she's always done."

  "There, you see Alaric? She is surely the guilty party. And unless you can think of a better plan, we will have to go with mine." Rowena folded her arms across her chest and looked at Alaric.

  "If you think I'm going to allow you to go to the home of a woman with her reputation, who is a possible murderess to boot, and attempt to interview her, you are deluding yourself, Rowena. Malcolm and I would have no way to protect you in such a circumstance. It is out of the questions. Malcolm clearly is still on friendly terms with Marguerite, and she will continue to help him because she believes he is causing me trouble. I think it would be far better if he searched Marguerite's house for the pearl, which I am sure she would still have. She is aware of its value, and Marguerite would never throw something away she thought was valuable. She knows that neither her face nor her bosom will be her fortune forever; she would be hoarding it against future need."