A Collector's Item: Rowena's After Dark Regency Romance (The Arlingbys Book 1)

by Alicia Quigley

  Alaric stroked her hand. "And I came into your life and forced you to marry me instead. I am grateful that you do not hold it against me. Can you forgive me for my unkind words? I will try to do better in the future."

  Rowena looked up at Alaric curiously. She wondered if she could believe him. His abrupt change from cold anger to gentle repentance was disturbing. "You won’t speak to me in that way again?" she asked.

  Alaric closed his eyes briefly. "I will try not to," he answered. "It has been a long time since I trusted someone, and suspicion of the motives of others is engrained in me."

  "You should not have married me if you did not trust me." Rowena bit her lip. "I wonder sometimes why you wanted to marry me at all."

  If she hoped for words of love, she was disappointed. Alaric squeezed her fingers gently. "We are well suited, believe me, Rowena. You will make me an excellent wife and I will strive to be a comfortable husband to you."

  Rowena sighed and the spark left her eyes. She drew her fingers slowly out of his.

  "Am I forgiven?" asked Alaric.

  Rowena nodded silently. His earlier words had aroused some hope in her, and she prayed that she wasn’t being foolishly optimistic.

  Alaric leaned back against the shining dining table and folded his arms across his chest. "There is yet one matter we must discuss."

  "What is that?" Rowena felt as though her heart had been squeezed dry. She couldn’t imagine what Alaric might think still needed to be hammered out.

  "Your investigation. It simply will not do, Rowena."

  A stubborn look came over Rowena’s face, and Alaric gave a sudden spontaneous smile. "This has nothing to do with Malcolm’s guilt or innocence. What I said earlier in anger is still true. If you continue on this course, not only will old gossip be revived, but my enemies might very well seek to once again implicate me in Ingram’s death. For all your good intentions, you could do me a great deal of harm."

  Rowena paled slightly as the truth of his words sank in. It had never occurred to her that if she continued to insist on Malcolm’s innocence, it would cause many to reconsider the matter of Alaric’s involvement. If her brother had not killed Ingram, then her husband was the next logical suspect. She would have to be able to clear both of them in the matter. And if she could not do that, then things might finish far worse than they had started.

  "I hadn’t thought of that, Alaric," she said in a small voice. "I do not believe either of you committed the crime."

  "I know that. But you are the only one with such faith. It is generally acknowledged that one or the other of us is a murderer." Alaric placed his fingers gently under her chin and turned her face towards his. "Can I count on you to leave the issue alone?"

  Rowena’s brow furrowed. She realized it was necessary to reassure Alaric as to her loyalty, and dropping her insistence on investigating the crime would surely do that. But it seemed to her unfair that Malcolm must remain in exile. She hesitated.

  Alaric frowned. Even now she was torn, he could tell. The pull of her own family seemed to be more powerful than her loyalty to him. The knowledge caused a feeling of desolation to settle over him.

  "Very well," said Rowena abruptly. "I will not speak of it. I would not want to bring any harm to you, my lord."

  Alaric felt his heart soar and a warm smile covered his face. Perhaps he had blackmailed her, but they would both be far happier if she abandoned her hopeless pursuit. Rowena drew in her breath, marveling at the change that came over his countenance. Her handsome yet stern husband became the most charming and accessible of men. She felt a sense of joy when Alaric brought his hands to her shoulders and drew her close to him. Unconsciously she raised her lips to his, and he felt a stirring in his groin as he gazed down into her upturned face. He lowered his mouth to hers, his tongue gently tracing the curve of her full lower lip. Rowena shivered and moved closer, her hands running up his arms to clasp his shoulders.

  Alaric laughed and gently held her away from him. His body fought his actions, urging him to pull her closer, to carry her up the stairs to his bedroom. "They say a quarrel is fine preparation for love-making," he murmured. "And if we continue, we will doubtless discover the truth of that statement. But I promised Mackley I would be at his office at two-o-clock."

  Rowena pouted provocatively. "Must you?"

  "You aren’t playing fair, Rowena." Alaric traced her lips with one fingertip. "You know I wish to stay here with you."

  Rowena sighed melodramatically. "Very well. I will be a good wife and allow you to attend to your business." She shot him a laughing glance. "But I expect a reward later."

  Alaric raised his eyebrows. "I am sure I can think of a fitting prize for you, my dear. Indeed, I will probably be unable to concentrate on poor Mackley’s concerns because I will be thinking only of what that will be."

  He raised her hand to his lips and then turned and walked to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, and looked back at her.

  "Thank you, Rowena, for abandoning your investigation. I know it pains you, but it is surely for the best." With another warm smile, he opened the door and was gone.

  Rowena sank back into her chair and stared unseeingly at the beautiful landscape that hung on the opposite wall. She had seen a side of Alaric today she had not expected. His cold fury with her when she had brought up her investigation astounded her, and his abrupt shift in mood had left her confused. All this after his tenderness the night before, she thought. That memory made her smile. She could remember with startling clarity the feel of his hands on her skin, his lips pressed to her neck, her breasts, her stomach, everywhere. She felt a suspicious warmth growing in her abdomen, and she hastily tried to think of something else.

  Perhaps when they had spent more time together Alaric could be convinced to help her clear Malcolm’s name. There must also be ways to conduct an investigation secretly. She would bide her time until Alaric understood that she wanted only what was best for them both. In time, he might be able to trust her. Her heart contracted slightly at the thought. She already cared for him far too much.

  Two hours later Alaric strolled leisurely down a London street. His business with Mackley had been speedily concluded, and he was returning to his house, eager to give Rowena the reward he had promised her. A gentle smile curled his lips as he thought about his bride. He had made a good choice. She was not only beautiful and intelligent, but passionate as well. The previous night he had discovered the wanton side of Rowena that he had been sure lurked under her cool exterior. She had given herself to him with a generosity that had touched him deeply. Indeed, it had moved him so much that this morning he had intentionally searched for faults in her, and she had proved him wrong once again. He knew now that her motives were pure, and when she had chosen him over her brother, he had been completely satisfied.

  He looked up and noticed that he was passing his club. As much as he wished to return home to Rowena, he realized it might be wise to stop and see if Charles was there. He wished to make sure that his cousin had received his note of the day before. He entered the club hastily and glanced about, seeking Charles’ familiar blonde head. In a moment he noticed him, sitting with a group of other young gentlemen, and he walked over and clapped him on the shoulder.

  "Alaric!" Charles smiled broadly. "The bridegroom is out and about! How is married life?"

  Alaric grinned easily. "I find that it agrees with me." He nodded politely to the men surrounding them. "If I might have a word with you, Charles?"

  "Certainly." Charles disengaged himself from the group and strolled over to a seat in the window, where he dropped into a large chair. Alaric sat down next to him.

  "Whatever are you doing here, Alaric?" Charles asked. "I thought you’d still be comforting your wife. She couldn’t have taken your defection the other night well."

  Alaric shook his head. "Charles, you must not have understood my note of yesterday. All is well between Rowena and me."

  Charles looked surprised.
"I understood that you wished me to take the blame for your behavior the other night, you dog! I thought perhaps it was an attempt to mollify your pretty bride."

  "No, it is an attempt to keep tongues from wagging. Marguerite heard about my adventures, and meant to spread unkind tales. The woman has a poisonous tongue, Charles."

  Charles gave a shout of laughter. "Don’t I know it! I remember how she talked twelve years ago when you threw her out. Lord, I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side." He leaned in closer. "So Lady Brayleigh is no longer angry with you."

  Alaric cleared his throat. "All is well between my wife and myself," he said somewhat stiffly.

  Charles grinned easily. "All is well? Is that the best you can put it, my boy?"

  Alaric frowned. "You’re a rascal, Charles. I will not talk about Rowena with you. Suffice it to say I am well-satisfied. I merely stopped in to reassure myself that you would follow the instructions I sent you yesterday."

  Charles shrugged. "I guess I owe you enough to take the blame for your wedding-night shenanigans. God knows I don’t want that Bingham woman spreading more gossip about you. The family name can take only so much battering."

  Alaric gave him a shrewd glance. "I’m not the only one who has abused it. I seem to recall you dropped over 800 guineas at Mrs. Blackmore’s on my wedding night. That is hardly the act of a staid and sober man."

  Charles grinned unrepentantly. "And you’ll pay that debt too, cousin, in gratitude for my defanging of the lovely Marguerite. It’s rare enough that you owe me one, Alaric!"

  Alaric smiled at his scapegrace cousin. "And they call me the black sheep of the family." He stood up and shook his cousin’s hand. "Thank you, Charles. I’ll not forget this. I do not wish Rowena to be troubled."

  "I never thought to see you worrying about a woman’s feelings, Alaric. Soon you’ll be dancing attendance on her and drinking tea." Charles shuddered. "Another good man ruined by the trap of marriage."

  "Nonsense." Alaric smoothed the sleeve of his coat. "It is a trap you will soon find yourself in, Charles. And I must admit I find it far more pleasant than I had thought I would."

  Charles threw his head back in merriment. "Go home to your bride, Alaric. And when you’re weary of her and are ready to return to your old ways, I’ll be here waiting for you."

  With a smile and a nod Alaric left the club. His cousin’s teasing had left him in a remarkably good temper, and he had the prospect of Rowena to return home to, which quickened his step. It was amazing, he reflected, how much a charming wife could change a man’s life. He congratulated himself once more on his choice, and reflected smugly that with the nonsense about proving Malcolm’s innocence cleared up, she would doubtless throw her energies into making him a charming and amenable wife.

  Chapter 22

  Alaric relaxed in his library, his long legs stretched out before him as he perused a recent work on the great painters of the Renaissance. It had been a wedding gift from his great-aunt Margaret, and he realized with a sense of contentment that he owned at least one masterpiece by each of the artists mentioned in the work, and often more than one. Perhaps, he thought idly, he would have one of the Titians brought up from his estates in the south and hung in Rowena’s bedroom. Or, even better, he would arrange to have Rowena painted by Raeburn. An original masterpiece depicting his most precious possession would be an excellent ornament for his own bedroom.

  He looked up with a smile and closed the book as the door to the room opened. Rowena stood in the doorway, and he surveyed her with satisfaction. It occurred to him that marriage suited her. She seemed to glow in her blue gown, her blond curls surrounding her lovely face like a halo. Perhaps she was breeding already. His heart began to beat faster at the thought as he pictured Rowena with a baby, his baby, clasped in her arms. He had never thought much of children before, but the idea of a child of Rowena’s suddenly seemed very attractive. If she was not breeding he would have to see that she was soon, a pastime that would be most diverting.

  "Good morning, Alaric," she said as she walked into the room. "I hope I’m not disturbing you."

  "Not at all." He watched her through narrowed eyes as she approached him, and he once again admired the graceful sway of her hips beneath her dress. His hands itched to close around her narrow waist and pull her close to him, to play with her carefully arranged curls until they presented the same picture of charming dishevelment that they did in bed at night. "How is your aunt?"

  "Aunt Louisa is well, or as well as she ever is. I sometimes think she positively enjoys being ill." Rowena stripped off her sensible tan leather gloves and Alaric watched her movements avidly. His mind was far less on her words than her actions as her delicate white hands were revealed. He eyed the settee thoughtfully.

  "She did mention that the Burlington ball is tonight. She feels that we should attend, and I suppose I must agree with her," Rowena continued.

  Alaric dragged his eyes from her hands to her face. "What did you say?"

  "I said that we should attend the Burlington ball tonight," repeated Rowena patiently.

  Alaric snorted. "Whatever for? We have been married only two weeks. It is not necessary to go into Society yet. I was never much interested in that sort of nonsense anyway."

  Rowena smiled. "We have been married almost three weeks now, Alaric, and my aunt pointed out that our absence is beginning to cause comment. You are a married man now, and not a bachelor. When you were wooing me you attended many social functions; now that you have captured me am I expected to forego all amusement?"

  Alaric sought out her eyes, startled. He had not considered that Rowena might be missing the social whirl. He was content to spend his days at home cataloging his collection, making the occasional visit to his club or Tattersall’s, exercising his horses in the Park, and making love to his bride. But perhaps she was not as content as he was to keep company only with each other.

  "I did not intend to deprive you of your amusements," he said, his voice stiff. "You are of course welcome to go out at any time you choose. I am sure your aunt would be glad to escort you tonight. You must excuse me, however." It pained him to think that she might prefer the empty pastimes of Society to his company, but he could hardly lock her in the house, as much as he would like to.

  Rowena sighed. She had not wanted to tell him of her true reason for wishing to go to the ball, but it appeared it would be necessary. She cast about in her mind for a subtle way of making her point.

  "Aunt Louisa feels that our presence would be opportune. This is one of the largest occasions of the Season, and everyone will be there. If I came alone so soon after the wedding, that would doubtless cause comment."

  Alaric groaned. "Why does your Aunt Louisa’s opinion suddenly carry so much weight with you, Rowena? I have the feeling that there is something you aren’t telling me."

  Rowena shrugged. It was useless to try to persuade Alaric indirectly. "Lady Bingham has been spreading malicious gossip. Despite the best efforts of your cousin and my aunt, our marriage is the talk of the town. If we were to appear together, some of it might be silenced."

  Alaric’s hand clenched into a fist. "What has she been saying?" His voice was low, but there was an edge of steel to it.

  Rowena looked away. "Nothing of importance. I simply feel that it would be best if we tried to put an end to the unpleasant rumors."

  Alaric stood up and walked towards her. Rowena took a few steps backwards until she brushed up against the desk and could retreat no further. Alaric placed his arms on the desk on either side of her and looked down at her, his expression dark.

  "I am sure your aunt told you the rumors in great detail. You will tell me immediately what Marguerite has been saying."

  Rowena felt a slight tingle of pleasure as Alaric loomed over her. His body was very close to hers and she could feel his warmth through the intervening layers of clothing. She hoped he wasn’t aware of the powerful feelings he aroused in her. It would not do for him to think he coul
d manipulate her in that way.

  "Only that our marriage is not a happy one," she said hastily.

  "And in what way are we supposedly unhappy?" persisted Alaric. "I am sure Marguerite supplied a great deal more information than that. I am anxious to hear it."

  Rowena looked up at him nervously. "Aunt Louisa gave me only the most general description of the stories. I am not aware of the exact nature of the gossip."

  Alaric laughed. "Nonsense. Your aunt is incapable of keeping any sort of scandalous tale to herself. The truth, Rowena, or I shall not stir out of the house tonight."

  Rowena gave an exasperated shrug as her temper flared. It was all very well for Alaric to insist on hearing all the sordid details; he did not have to deal with his own lost temper. But she supposed he deserved to know. The whole thing was his fault in the first place.

  "Very well, my lord. Your former mistress has informed the world that we are so ill-matched that we have not yet consummated our marriage, nor are we likely to. It seems that you married me simply to annoy my family, but have no intention of making me your wife in actuality. She hints that you have already turned to other women for consolation. Your ill-advised trip to Mrs. Blackmore’s gaming house on our wedding night of course lends credence to her spiteful story."

  Alaric gave a tight smile. Rowena’s anger only made her more attractive, he reflected.

  "And if you had had your way, her story would not be far from the truth," he murmured, feeling a touch of triumph when she lowered her eyes. "It was no wish of yours that our marriage be consummated."

  "Please, Alaric, I thought we had gotten beyond that," said Rowena. "Have I refused you anything in the past weeks?"

  Alaric considered her words, thinking of the sensual abandon she displayed in the bedchamber. He leaned forward and kissed her nose.

  "Indeed you have not. I regret my words. It is Marguerite I should be angry with. And I am. Very angry. She will regret that she spoke so unwisely." He turned away and strode to the window. "Forget that you heard anything of this, my dear. I will deal with the matter."