That Infamous Pearl (32 page)

"Oh," she
gasped. She took a deep breath. Alaric obviously did not wish to speak to her
now, and though she couldn't imagine what it might be, she was sure he was
trying to convey something to her. "Very well. I will wait for you
upstairs."

Rowena swung away
from him and left the room, leaving Charles staring after her in bewilderment. She
ran towards the wide, curving staircase, carved with clumsy gargoyles, but
hesitated before going up. Malcolm, she thought. Malcolm would surely want to
know about this, and perhaps he could help her hatch a plan to catch Charles
while they were waiting for Alaric. Time was of the essence. And at least he
could keep her company as she waited. She thought she might go mad, keeping
this information to herself.

She turned and
hurried out of the house, running to the stables as quickly as she could. A
groom standing in the door looked at her in surprise, for she was not dressed
for riding and her manner was extremely agitated.

"Lord Brayleigh's
groom," she demanded. "Where is he?"

The young man
gestured towards the stalls, and Rowena hurried away. She gave a sob of relief
when she saw Malcolm's head above a wall, his blonde hair covered by the thick
brown wig.

"Malcolm,"
she said urgently.

Malcolm looked up. "Oh,
it's you Rowena! Come take a look at this horse. She's quite marvelous. I didn't
think a blowhard like Sir Peter would have taste in horseflesh like this. I'll
have to try to buy her from him. She's first-rate and I mean to rebuild Wroxton's
stables. I'm sure Father let them fall apart after I left. He never did have
much interest in bloodstock."

Rowena gave the horse
an impatient glance. "She is very pretty, Malcolm--" she said.

"I think so too,"
interrupted Malcolm. "And sound in the wind, I'm sure. Do you think Sir
Peter will part with her?"

"I don't know. That
isn't why I came here." Rowena looked at him impatiently.

"Of course not. You
have excellent stables already. Brayleigh always had excellent cattle. But it
will be quite a job for me. I have to begin as soon as I can."

Rowena lost her
patience. "Malcolm, will you please listen to me!"

Malcolm tore his eyes
from the mare at her abrupt tone. "Well, and haven't I been listening to
you? You said you liked the horse."

"But I didn't
come here to talk about it. Malcolm, this is very important."

"Well, then what
is it? You say you have something important to tell me and then you start talking
about horses. It doesn't make any sense."

Rowena took a deep
breath. "Malcolm, I know who killed Alfred Ingram."

"So do I,"
said Malcolm. "We all agreed it had to be Marguerite."

"But it isn't!"
Rowena clasped her hands together. "I talked to her this afternoon. She
didn't say anything to implicate herself, but as she told me the story I
realized who the killer really was. There was another person who was there
every step of the way, who actually told Alaric that you were going to see
Ingram. He was there just after the murder as well, and he had an excellent
motive for wishing to see Alaric convicted, or forced to flee England."

"Who is it?"
asked Malcolm peevishly. "Don't make me guess, Rowena. I'm not interested
in games."

"Charles
Montfort. Alaric's cousin. If Alaric were found guilty, he would have the
Brayleigh fortune." Rowena almost jumped up and down with excitement.

"Charles? Why,
he's a friend of mine." Malcolm looked very annoyed. "How could he
let this happen? If he wanted to see Brayleigh disgraced, it doesn't matter to
me, but why did he have to get me involved?"

"He didn't mean
to," Rowena pointed out.

"Well, he might
have said something," said Malcolm. "I'm going to have to talk to him
about this."

Without another word
Malcolm turned and strode out of the stables. Rowena ran after him, anxious to
avert disaster. She wished fervently that she hadn't allowed her impulse to
share her discovery to override Alaric's advice to return to her room.

"Malcolm, you
mustn't say anything now. We have to let Alaric know."

"I can handle
this myself, Rowena. He might have been trying to blame Brayleigh for the
murder, but I'm the one that's suffered all these years. I plan to ask him what
he means by it."

"But you can't
simply confront him," argued Rowena frantically. "We need to tell
Alaric about this. We need a plan."

"I have a plan,"
said Malcolm. "I'm going to bash his face in."

Rowena seized her
brother's arm and pulled on it until he stopped and looked down at her
impatiently.

"What is it,
Rowena?"

"Malcolm, you
must listen to me. We have to tell Alaric about this. We can't simply take
Charles on alone. If you are caught, you will still be accused of murder. We
have no proof, you know."

"Well, I'm not
going to hang about those stables any longer, it's damned dull," said
Malcolm flatly. "I have no way of finding out what's going on. And if
Charles came down there I'd probably not be able to stop myself from hitting
him."

Rowena looked up into
his furious face and realized that he spoke the truth. Malcolm was far too
angry to be left alone.

"Then you'll
have to stay with me," she said hesitantly.

"Famous,"
said Malcolm. "But you can't exactly take your groom into the parlor, can
you? Lady Brandfon might be shocked."

Rowena bit her lip. "You'll
have to come to my room. I promised Alaric I'd stay there. I'm sure there must
be a way to smuggle you up there."

Malcolm laughed at
that. "And you thought meeting me in the garden last night was scandalous.
If the servants see this, the gossip will never die down."

"Then we shall
have to be very careful," said Rowena crossly. "But I don't think I
should let you out of my sight. You're behaving very irrationally."

"I'm behaving
irrationally?" said Malcolm. "I like that. Which one of us came
running down to the stables like there was a banshee behind her? If anyone saw
you earlier, I'm sure they'll have some stories to tell."

Rowena made a face at
him. "Come on," she snapped. She realized that she had behaved
foolishly, and now would have to keep a close eye on Malcolm or he was likely
to go off and try to tackle Charles on his own, which was a risk they couldn't
take. If he was caught, it was unlikely that his life would be spared a second
time.

They approached the
house together, and Rowena looked at it thoughtfully. "I can hardly walk
you through the hallways. Someone is bound to see us. But my room is there, on
the second floor. Do you think you could climb up that vine to it?"

Malcolm eyed the
trellis thoughtfully. "I'm not saying I can't," he offered. "But
what if someone saw me out here? That wouldn't look good."

"Everyone should
be resting," said Rowena. "Alaric and Charles are in the billiard
room, which is in the other wing. There's no one about to see you."

"Except the
servants," said Malcolm. He shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me. Get
inside and open the window because I'll be dashed if I hang around out here
longer than I have to."

Rowena nodded and
turned towards the house. She looked back over her shoulder at her brother.

"Promise me you'll
stay right here until I open the window," she said severely. "I can't
have you running off to look for Charles."

Malcolm laughed
shortly. "I'll wait. I can't promise you what will happen if he comes
across me though. So you'd better hurry, little sister."

Rowena frowned at him
reproachfully and ran up to the house, letting herself in through the French
doors in the library. She raced through the room and into the main hallway,
tearing past the same confused parlor maid she had seen only minutes before. She
hitched up her skirts in a most unladylike fashion and ran up the stairs,
relieved that no one else seemed to be about. At the top of the stairs, she
turned towards her room.

"Where are you
going in such a hurry, Lady Brayleigh?"

Rowena froze at the
sound of the musical voice. She turned around and found Marguerite gazing at
her with some amusement.

"I need to lie
down," she murmured. "I don't feel very well."

"Ah, the truth
about your husband was upsetting," Marguerite said softly. "I can see
how that might affect you. What plans do you have for your future?"

"I don't know,"
replied Rowena impatiently. Now that she was certain that Charles was the
murderer, she had no use for Lady Bingham and her tiresome insinuations. "I
will have to think about it."

"Do that,"
said Marguerite. "And remember, a man like Alaric won't be faithful to a
woman as unsophisticated you. He needs someone who will fit into his world. Someone
with tastes like his own."

"Someone like
you?" asked Rowena, amazed at the woman's gall.

"Perhaps,"
answered Marguerite.

"Tell me, Lady
Bingham. Why would you wish to marry a murderer?" Rowena was honestly
fascinated by the way Marguerite's mind worked.

"Alaric and I
understand one another. I would like to be a countess, and Alaric's title is
ancient and respectable. Poor Bingham's father was a merchant, you know, who
bought his title. The smell of the shop still clings to it. Alaric has need of
a wife who will not...get in the way. It would be a most suitable marriage."

"You mean you
would get what you want out of it," said Rowena. "You mean to use
Alaric for your own gain."

Marguerite shrugged. "What
else is marriage but a means to an end? I wish for respectability, he wishes
for a child and to be left alone."

Rowena gave her a
pitying glance. "You will know my plans soon enough, Lady Bingham. Good
afternoon."

She turned her back
on Marguerite, dismissing the woman from her thoughts. Malcolm had been
standing outside the house for some minutes now, and she could only hope he hadn't
been seen. She rushed into her room and flung the window open, hastily scanning
the lawn. Malcolm was nowhere to be seen.

"It's about time
you made it upstairs," came an aggravated voice. "I've been hanging
from this vine for five minutes. What happened to you?"

Rowena looked down
into Malcolm's annoyed and sweaty face. He was clinging to the side of the
Abbey, his displeasure obvious.

"What are you
doing up here already?" she demanded.

"I thought all
you were going to do was go upstairs, so I decided to save some time and begin
climbing. How was I to know you'd take forever?"

"I ran into Lady
Bingham," said Rowena shortly. "I was forced to speak to her."

"And how is
Marguerite?" asked Malcolm, hoisting himself up on the windowsill.

"As malicious as
ever. She actually thinks that I will leave Alaric and that he will get a
divorce and marry her. The woman is incorrigible."

Malcolm grinned as he
eased himself through the window. "She's got spirit, you have to admit. Can't
say she doesn't put her heart into things."

Rowena stared at him.
"Do you mean to tell me you actually admire her?"

Malcolm shrugged. "Well,
I have to allow that she can take care of herself. You've got to respect that. I
spent quite a while with her, you know. Can't say it was comfortable, but we
had fun." He sauntered over to her dressing table, where he began to
inspect the baubles that lay there. "This is a mighty fine bracelet. Brayleigh
must be besotted with you, Rowena. I don't remember him ever giving Marguerite
anything so fine."

Rowena snatched the
bracelet out of his hand. "I'll thank you not to compare me to Lady
Bingham," she said sharply. "Really, Malcolm. You can be so tiresome."

"It's a pity I
wasn't around when you were growing up," observed Malcolm. "I would
have made sure you didn't turn out so prim. You'd think I had insulted you."

"I'm not prim
simply because I don't appreciate you comparing my jewels to those of my
husband's former mistress," said Rowena sharply. "And if you weren't
around when I was a child, that's hardly my fault."

"No, it's
Charles Montfort's." Malcolm rubbed his chin. "I'd love to have my
hands around his lying throat. Can't say I'm sorry to hear that it wasn't
Marguerite, though. Wouldn't like to think of her being hung. That would be a waste."

"Will you stop
talking about her?" demanded Rowena. "I swear I am sick of the sound
of her name."

Malcolm snorted. "It's
not as though I brought her up," he protested.

"You certainly
did," countered Rowena. "And you will not stop talking about her. I
will scream."

The door to the
bedroom swung open and Alaric stepped into the room, hastily shutting it behind
him when he saw who was present. He took in with one glance Malcolm and Rowena
glaring at one another, and sighed heavily.

"I suppose it's
useless to ask why you are here, Wroxton," he said. "Something tells
me the answer would make no sense."

Rowena flew to him,
flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. He hesitated a
moment and then wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

"Oh, Alaric, I
am so glad you are here. Malcolm is being totally unreasonable."

Alaric squeezed her
gently before setting her away from him. "A fight between brother and
sister? What is the problem here?"

"I only said
that Marguerite was a damn fine woman," said Malcolm sulkily. "And
Rowena flew into a tantrum. I don't understand women, Brayleigh."

Alaric sighed again. "Why
were you discussing Marguerite?"

"I saw her in
the hall," said Rowena. "Would you believe that she expects me to
divorce you so that she can be your wife?"

"I feel sure
that you will never allow that to happen," said Alaric. "So we don't
need to worry about it."

Rowena folded her
arms over her chest. "I don't see why Malcolm has to say nice things about
her," she pouted.

"I'll say what I
want," objected Malcolm. "How do you put up with her, Brayleigh?"

"It is a trial,"
said Alaric with a slow smile. He glanced from brother to sister. "Malcolm,
did you come up here only to argue with Rowena about Marguerite?"

Rowena started as she
was recalled to their true objective. "No, of course not. When you were
busy, I went to find Malcolm. I had to tell someone. Alaric, it was not Lady
Bingham who killed Alfred Ingram."

"So you've
teased that out," said Alaric slowly. "I was afraid you might."

Rowena gaped at him. "You
know it wasn't Lady Bingham?"

"I never thought
it was. Marguerite's a malicious troublemaker, but she's hardly likely to
resort to violence. She's far too devious for that." Alaric stared
thoughtfully at Rowena. "Who do you think the killer is, Rowena?"

"When Marguerite
told me her story, I realized how involved in the matter of Ingram's death
Charles was," she said eagerly. "It was your cousin who told you of
Malcolm's planned trip to see Ingram, and he was present shortly after the body
was discovered. And he had the most to gain, Alaric. He's always in debt, and
he is soon to be married. He would dearly love to have your fortune and title."

Alaric nodded slowly.
"I underestimated you, my dear. My congratulations."

"You knew?"
Rowena stared at him. "You knew and didn't tell me?"

"I thought the
truth would only put you in greater danger. You and Malcolm are so impetuous,
and Charles has already tried to kill you twice. If he thought you suspected
him, he would become even more desperate."

Rowena paused. "It
was Charles? Charles tried to kill me?"

"I am sure that
he arranged for the carriage to run you down, and the shot today was delivered
when he had fallen away from the rest of the group. I'm certain he fired it
himself."

"Why would he
want to kill me?" asked Rowena. "It's your title he wants."

"But if you are
pregnant, then your child is my heir," observed Alaric. "He was
content to ignore you until he realized that I had not married you solely for
revenge and that the marriage had been consummated. Then you became a threat to
him."

Rowena flushed. "But
why hasn't he tried to kill you again?"

Alaric shrugged. "He
probably thought better of it years ago when he realized that I would pay his
debts whenever he asked me. He was unmarried and young, and he had already
botched one attempt on my life. The blame had fallen on Malcolm, but it would
be dangerous to try again. And I showed no signs of ever marrying and having
children. As long as he was the heir to Brayleigh no one would question his
spending. But you, my dear, upset his plans."

Rowena crossed her
arms and tapped her foot, frowning. "Well, it makes me very angry. He has
acted as though he were my friend. At least Marguerite never pretended to like
me."

"She is
certainly never less than honest about her emotions," said Alaric.

There was a moment's
silence. Then Malcolm stirred restlessly.

"That's all very
well, but what are we going to do now? Because if you don't take care of
Charles, Brayleigh, I'll do it myself."

Alaric gave him a
sympathetic glance. "Nothing would make me happier than to let you deal
with him, Wroxton. But I would hate to have to ship you out of the country
again to avoid being charged with murder, which I'm sure is what would happen
if I left you to your own devices."

"Then what shall
we do? I can't have the man creeping about trying to kill my sister,"
insisted Malcolm.

"No, that would
never do. This afternoon, while Rowena was otherwise occupied I was attempting
to get information out of him. But he's very slippery. He dodged my questions
easily, as I couldn't be particularly pointed." Alaric gazed thoughtfully
at Rowena.

"I'll be
pointed," growled Malcolm. "I have nothing to lose here, Brayleigh."

"No, but Rowena
does. She would be very upset to see you arrested, Wroxton, and I cannot have
that."

"Well, thank you
very much," said Malcolm sharply.

"Please,
Malcolm. Alaric is only being provoking." Rowena frowned. "We must
decide exactly what it is we shall do now. We're all in danger, it seems, if Charles
is not caught."

"You are
absolutely right about that, my dear Rowena." The quiet voice came from
the doorway, and all three turned abruptly to face it. Charles stood there, a
pistol in his hand and a satisfied smile on his face.

"My, my, I seem
to have had a sudden run of luck. I came up here only to see how much you might
know, Rowena, but it seems I have stumbled on the entire nest of plotters. So
now I can take care of all of you at once."

Alaric's eyes
narrowed as he looked at his cousin and he shifted his weight almost
imperceptibly. Charles turned towards him, his pistol swinging in Rowena's
direction.

"Stay where you
are, Alaric. One step and your wife dies. I don't think you want that."

Alaric froze, and
Charles laughed softly. "You see Alaric, I know of your weakness." He
walked over to Rowena and stared down at her. "You have caused many
problems, my dear. Until you arrived, my future was secure. But you put my
cousin under your spell and upset my plans. It wasn't well-done of you."

"I didn't force
Alaric to marry me," protested Rowena. "You can hardly blame this on
me. You're the one who created this situation with your greed and losses at the
gambling table."