"That is a wonderful plan," said Rowena admiringly. "Perhaps Malcolm could let us into her house at dead of night and we could all search it. It would be so exciting!"
"Under no circumstances will you go to Marguerite's house. This is a matter that Malcolm and I can handle." Alaric spoke very firmly.
"You cannot keep all the fun activities for yourself," protested Rowena. "I am the one who began this investigation, and I insist on being allowed to continue it."
"Whatever makes you think searching a house in the middle of the night is amusing?" demanded Alaric. "That is a perfect example of why you cannot be allowed to accompany us. You would surely give us away."
"I can be discreet!" Rowena looked daggers at her husband. "You have a very unflattering view of me, I see."
Malcolm cleared his throat. Alaric and Rowena turned to him, having almost forgotten his presence.
"Just thought I should mention that Marguerite and I had a falling out some days ago," he said mournfully. "Don't think she will be much inclined to help me anymore. I told her exactly what I thought of her attempt to convince Brayleigh we were plotting against him."
"Did you? How delightful of you, Malcolm." Rowena beamed at him.
"Very noble, indeed," said Alaric. "But it is unfortunate timing. Is there no chance that you could make up with her? There are ways that Marguerite can be...distracted."
Malcolm shook his head. "She threw a fit. You remember what a terrible temper she has. Perhaps in a week or so I might be able to get around her, but not now. Our relationship isn't what it used to be; Voxley is there now and he has a vested interest in keeping me at bay. He hasn't a penny to his name, and she's as rich as Croesus."
Alaric nodded slowly, and Rowena smiled. "We cannot possibly wait a week or two. Luckily, we have an alternate plan, and I think we should proceed with it. I will be glad to speak to Lady Bingham," she said brightly.
"On the contrary, it will do us no harm at all to wait a few weeks," said Alaric. "What difference does it make after twelve years?"
"We cannot sit about waiting for Marguerite to possibly change her mind and decide she likes Malcolm again, when we have another alternative," argued Rowena. "We can hardly allow resolving this problem to hinge upon Lady Bingham's whims."
"Then Malcolm and I will break into her house," countered Alaric calmly. "It should be simple enough to do."
"She sleeps with a pistol under her pillow," said Malcolm glumly. "And I don't like the look of that butler of hers. I think he's a former highwayman. Still, I'd be glad to go with you, Brayleigh. The only problem is that I haven't the least idea of where to begin looking."
"You see, Alaric, there is no point in pursuing that course," said Rowena with an air of triumph. "You must agree that my solution is a much better one."
"I will not allow you to put yourself in peril. I have no way of helping you if Marguerite should realize what you are up to. It is far too dangerous."
Rowena stared at Alaric, amazed at his vehemence. His gaze was dispassionate, and she tried to divine what thoughts might be hidden behind his green eyes. Perhaps he cared for her after all, she thought with a sudden surge of hope. He seemed so determined to protect her and to keep her from anything that might harm her. Maybe he was beginning to trust her again, and trust would perhaps lead to love.
"I appreciate your concerns for me, Alaric, but I know that I can take care of myself," she said. "And no one else seems to have any other solution to our problem."
"Not only would it be hazardous for you, but there is the possibility that you might be carrying my child," said Alaric bluntly. "I will not have you put at risk."
Rowena's heart sank at his words. She could remember the cold, emotionless manner in which he had told her that, although he would never trust her again, she owed him a son. It was only his child he was trying to protect, not her. She looked away, trying not to let her disappointment show in her face.
"I never thought of that," said Malcolm, breaking the tense silence. "A child, eh? That would make me an uncle."
"I am not breeding," said Rowena firmly.
"You cannot be certain of that, and I will not have you putting yourself at risk. The subject is closed." Alaric glared at Rowena.
"What if there was a way you could keep an eye on her?" asked Malcolm suddenly.
"What are you talking about? He can't possibly come to Lady Bingham's house with me," said Rowena.
"No, but there are other places to meet. I know that Marguerite is going down to the Brandfon's for a house party next weekend. That would be the perfect place to put this plan into effect. It would be easy enough for Rowena to get Marguerite alone, and you could keep an eye on her the whole time, Brayleigh. You shouldn't have any trouble getting Sir Peter to invite you as well."
Alaric groaned. "Sir Peter and Lady Maria Brandfon are dreadful people, vulgar in the extreme. He's always attempting to show me the dreadful old paintings he inherited from his grandfather. He's sure they're worth a fortune, and every one of them is a forgery. And badly painted forgeries of naked women, at that."
"You can surely put up with them for a few days, Alaric, if it means we will clear up this mess," coaxed Rowena. "It is very uncomfortable for me to be married to one man suspected of murder and to be sister to another. And for the same murder, at that. Surely it isn't too much to ask?"
Alaric's gaze softened slightly. "I appreciate your concerns, but I don't like it. Still, it is a better idea than having you go to her house. At Brandfon's at least I would be able to make sure you do not get carried away."
"I will be the soul of discretion, I promise." Rowena looked pleadingly at Alaric.
"And I will come along, disguised as a groom!" announced Malcolm. "I will be back up for you, Alaric. That way things will be all right and tight."
Alaric groaned. "The last thing I need, Wroxton, is your over-enthusiastic presence. Marguerite will surely recognize you, if no one else does."
"I'll stay out of her way. You can't send my sister into danger without my being there. I won't have it."
"I am not sending her into danger," Alaric pointed out. "This entire ridiculous scheme sprang from the Arlingby family brains."
"I think it's an excellent idea," said Rowena stoutly. "Malcolm will be a great deal of help. Please say you agree, Alaric."
Alaric drew in his breath at the sight his wife presented, leaning towards him, her brilliant violet eyes aglow with excitement. She was so eager and generous, he thought, so anxious to prove to the world that her brother and husband were innocent of the charges leveled against them.
"Very well," he responded, and jumped slightly when Rowena gave out a shriek of excitement. She threw herself into his arms and he held her close to him, savoring her scent and warmth. He was amazed by the pleasure he experienced whenever she offered him a spontaneous caress.
"But," he continued firmly, "I will not have you putting yourself at risk. You will not attempt to conduct any investigative activities without my knowledge and permission. Do you understand me?"
"Yes Alaric," said Rowena promptly. "I will do as you say."
"And you, Wroxton? I won't have you leading Rowena into one of your wild schemes."
"Well, I like that," said Malcolm in a tone of disgust. "What makes you think I'd do something to get Rowena into trouble?"
"Only your involving her in your attempt to search my safe, and the fact that she concealed your presence in London from me, not to mention my knowledge of your sadly hot-headed ways," enumerated Alaric. "Once again, I will have your word on it."
Malcolm grinned sheepishly. "Very well. I will be as careful of Rowena as if she was made of glass. Is that good enough for you?"
"I suppose it will do." Alaric looked from Rowena's glowing face to Malcolm's excited one. "You two make me feel very old," he complained.
"Oh no, you are not at all old," Rowena reassured him. "You are just cautious, which I am sure is very important."
"Cauti
ous? Brayleigh?" Malcolm gave her an amazed look. "I could tell you some stories, Rowena."
"I beg you will not. I would like it if my wife continued to respect me." Alaric stood up and looked at Rowena and her brother with a severe eye. "I will go and write a note to Sir Peter Brandfon, asking if we might join his party. However, I expect the two of you to conduct yourself discreetly when we are there. This is a dangerous game we're playing, and I'll not have Rowena hurt. If she is, I will hold you responsible, Wroxton."
Chapter 31
He walked out of the room, leaving Malcolm and Rowena alone. Malcolm let out his breath in a rush.
"Well, I can't say I envy you, Rowena, being married to a martinet like that. How can you stand him ordering you around all the time?"
"He is really very kind to me," said Rowena softly. "And after the way I have treated him of late, I must admit that he is not obliged to be."
Malcolm gave her a shrewd glance. "Don't tell me you're in love with the man!"
Rowena stifled the tiny sob that rose in her throat and turned away, giving what she hoped was a light laugh. "Goodness, no. I am only very happy in my marriage."
Malcolm took her by the arm and turned her, looking down intently into her eyes. "You are in love with him, blast it," he said. "I admit Brayleigh's not as bad as I thought, but he's famous for having no heart, Rowena. You should know better."
Rowena clutched her handkerchief tightly, hoping her tears would not overflow. "It's too late now, Malcolm. I know I'm an idiot, but it can't be helped."
"He isn't in love with you," said Malcolm bluntly. "He said as much a few minutes ago. But he does seem to be concerned about your safety. Maybe he has feelings for you after all."
"No, I am sure he doesn't. He is concerned for me because I am his wife and I might be carrying his child. That is all." Rowena looked away.
"He's not unkind to you, is he?"
"No, not at all. Please Malcolm, let's not discuss this further. It makes me very unhappy." Rowena stepped away and walked toward the window, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to fall.
"I can't have my sister unhappy," said Malcolm firmly. "As soon as we've straightened out this question of who killed Ingram, I will have a talk with Brayleigh. He can't possibly want you moping around like this."
"I don't mope!" objected Rowena, her spirit returning. "And if you meddle in my marriage, Malcolm, I'll be very angry with you. Haven't you already caused enough trouble for the two of us? It was because of you that we had our last quarrel."
"Well, I like that," protested Malcolm. "Is it my fault that Brayleigh has a suspicious nature or that you handled him badly? Really, Rowena, you can't blame me for your troubles. You shouldn't have married him in the first place."
"No, I suppose I shouldn't have. But the deed is done, and I must live with it. Please, Malcolm, let me handle my own problems."
Malcolm folded his arms over his chest and frowned. "Very well. But don't come running to me the next time he makes you unhappy. I never thought I'd see my own sister married to Brayleigh. What a tangle."
Rowena laughed. "Don't worry about me, Malcolm. You will see that everything will be fine once we have settled this matter."
The door to the library opened and Ferguson appeared. "Charles Montfort is here, my lady."
"Oh!" said Rowena. "Oh, my goodness. Show him in, of course, Ferguson."
The moment the butler left, she turned hastily to Malcolm. "Hide," she whispered frantically. "Charles would surely recognize you."
"Damn it, I'm not going to skulk around like some criminal," protested Malcolm, but he allowed himself to be led behind Alaric's desk. Rowena urged him down behind it.
"Please be quiet. If you are arrested it will make our task that much more difficult," she said frantically.
"Charles was a friend of mine," argued Malcolm. "He won't do anything to hurt me."
"But he is also Alaric's cousin," answered Rowena. "Please Malcolm, for my sake."
Malcolm subsided, grumbling, just as the door opened and Charles entered. He raised an eyebrow to see Rowena standing behind the desk, her cheeks flushed with agitation.
"Dear me. Have I come at a bad time?"
"No, not at all," answered Rowena. "I dropped my...a brooch, and I was looking for it."
"Allow me to assist you." Charles took a step towards the desk as Rowena hurried out from behind it, almost colliding with him.
"No, no, that is not at all necessary. Thank you, though. I appreciate your thoughtfulness."
Charles took her hand in his. "Is something wrong, Rowena? You seem quite agitated."
"No, not at all," Rowena repeated. "Please, sit down. Did you want to see Alaric?"
Charles seated himself in a high-backed chair. "I did want to speak to him, but I am glad to find you in as well. How are you, Rowena? I haven't talked to you lately. Are you thriving?"
Rowena cast an anxious glance at the desk, and then turned her eyes back to Charles' face. "I'm fine, thank you, Charles. Shall I ring for Ferguson to fetch Alaric?"
"My business with him can wait. Tell me, are you happy with my cousin now? I know that all was not well last week."
"We are fine," said Rowena. "Alaric is an excellent husband. Please don't worry about me, Charles."
"So will you be blessing the house of Brayleigh with an heir soon?" asked Charles. "You will forgive me for saying so, but I know that was one of the reasons Alaric wished to marry."
Rowena colored. "I hope to make Alaric happy," she murmured.
"I am sure you do," answered Charles, looking at her closely. "I never thought to see Alaric so attached to one woman. You have achieved quite a feat, Rowena."
"I have?" asked Rowena, wondering what he meant.
"Of course. Alaric has shown no real interest in another woman since he married you. Despite Marguerite Bingham's attempts to cause trouble, Society is quite agog to see my cousin so obviously attached to his wife. You are held to be quite a miracle worker."
"I am?" said Rowena, surprised.
"Certainly. All the ladies wonder how you did it. You are the talk of the town, my dear."
Rowena opened her mouth to ask him more, but the door opened and Alaric stood in it, his green eyes glinting from under their heavy lids. He cast one swift glance around the room and then entered, an inquiring look on his face.
"Charles. How good to see you. What brings you here this afternoon?"
"Money," sighed Charles. "I will not hide it from you, Alaric. I am quite done up again."
"What a pity. Really, Charles, you must become more provident. Soon you will be married and will have a wife and children to provide for as well as yourself." Alaric walked over to his desk and halted for a moment when he saw Malcolm crouching behind it. A sudden smile lit his countenance.
"I know. I am sure once I am well and truly tied to Caroline I will change my ways. Think of this as the last fling of a bachelor. I am sorry to bother you with it, Alaric, but I should settle this debt before the wedding."
Alaric nodded. "Very well. But I hope you will reform your behavior, Charles," he said mildly. "I expect I will very soon have my own family to provide for."
He turned a warm smile on Rowena that made her heart lurch. He was so devastatingly attractive, she thought. She almost resented the way he made her feel as though she was melting whenever he looked at her.
"That is my hope as well," said Charles. "Rowena and I have been discussing that ourselves."
"Oh?" Alaric turned away as though bored. "How much do you need, Charles?"
"Another two thousand should do it."
Rowena and Charles watched as Alaric wrote out a draft and sanded it, handing it across the desk to his cousin.
"Thank you, Alaric. I will try not to bother you in the future."
"It is no bother, Charles. I simply think that you need to be more circumspect."
"I will try." Charles grinned cheerfully and pocketed the draft. "Will I see you at Lady
Buckley's masquerade next week?"
"Sadly, no," said Alaric. "Rowena and I have agreed to go to Brandfon's house party. It will be a sore trial, but I believe Rowena might benefit from the country air."
Charles raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? I was invited, but I declined. Perhaps I will reconsider my decision."
"We would love to have you there." Alaric walked around the desk and put his arm around Rowena, drawing her close. "The Brandfons are terribly trying. It would be nice to know that you would be along to alleviate our boredom."
"Then I will go," said Charles genially. "I look forward to seeing you there."
He bowed to Rowena and left, calling his thanks out again cheerfully as he did so.
"Whatever did you invite him along for?" Malcolm arose from behind the desk and gave Alaric an aggrieved look. "And did you have to step on my hand?"
Alaric's lips twitched. "I apologize for my clumsiness, Wroxton. I trust I did no permanent damage?"
Malcolm looked at his wounded hand. "No, but it wasn't for want of trying. And it's a shame Charles will be at Brandfon's. He was a good friend of mine; I will have to be careful that he doesn't recognize me."
"Precisely," said Alaric. "It will be an extra warning to you to be very careful. I don't like the idea of taking you along, but I'm aware that if I don't bring you with me you will probably show up on your own. This way I can at least keep an eye on you, and Charles' presence will keep you out of the house."
"Dash it, I don't think I like this, Brayleigh. Don't you trust me?"
"Not at all," said Alaric. "I don't doubt your bravery, Wroxton, but I know you were sadly hot-headed twelve years ago and you seem to have changed very little. We will play this game my way, or not at all."
That Infamous Pearl Page 27