Alaric groaned. "The last thing I need, Wroxton, is my wife wielding a pistol. And please, refrain from betting your possessions again. My hope is that from now on, my life will be much calmer."
Malcolm snorted. "With an Arlingby? Don’t count on it."
Alaric shook his head and turned to Rowena. "We are now both fine upstanding citizens, thanks to your efforts. And Charles is going to survive to be tried for Ingram’s murder."
"Unfortunately." Malcolm frowned. "I wouldn’t have missed," he concluded darkly.
"I didn’t miss," said Alaric firmly. "I meant only to wound him. We did not need another death on our hands."
"We can only be relieved that Lady Bingham was startled enough to tell the truth," said Rowena. "That woman is made of pure spite, I believe."
"Don’t talk about Marguerite that way. She really believed Brayleigh to be guilty, you know," Malcolm said. "And she did clear both your husband and me."
Rowena made a face. "I don’t know why you insist on defending her. That wretched female wishes to destroy my marriage and marry my husband. You cannot imagine the discomfort she had caused me."
"She’s only trying to take care of herself," sputtered Malcolm. "She's always had to make her own way in life."
"That doesn’t mean she has to be unpleasant about it," rejoined Rowena. "You are putting me all out of patience."
"What a shrew. Lord, you’d think almost getting shot twice in one day would make you less argumentative."
"I don’t see what that has to do with anything. Lady Bingham is still a thorn in my side."
Malcolm opened his mouth to retort, but Alaric interrupted. "I believe we can dispense with this discussion of Lady Bingham’s qualities. It has no real purpose that I can see, despite the obsession the pair of you seem to have with it. We should be celebrating, not quarreling."
Malcolm grinned. "Oh, very well. I’m glad everything’s turned out right, and now I’ll leave you alone. I’m sure you have some things to discuss." He winked knowingly at Rowena. "I'll be going up to Wroxton in a few days to break the news to Cousin Felix. You can come with me if you’d like, Rowena. You haven’t been home in some time, and I could use your advice on matters of the estate."
Rowena chanced a glance at Alaric. He was watching her gravely, and she couldn’t tell his emotions from his face. "Maybe," she answered. "I'll let you know."
Malcolm leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I have something for you, little sister," he said. He fished in the capacious pocket of his coat and produced something that he pressed into her hand. She looked down and gasped.
"The Pearl of Sirsi! Oh, Malcolm, I can’t possibly take this. You’ve sacrificed so much for it."
"And a lot of good it did me," said Malcolm. "Years moping about the Continent for no good reason. I should have sold the damned thing to Alaric in the first place. I only kept it to bedevil him."
"I only wanted it because you had it," observed Alaric. "I think you have found the perfect home for the pearl, Wroxton."
Malcolm nodded, and the two men clasped hands briefly. Malcolm smiled warmly at Rowena, and then turned and strode across the garden, intercepting Sir Peter, who was approaching them, and who he valiantly carried off with him. Rowena could hear his jovial voice as he headed into the house, inquiring after what price Sir Peter might want for the fine mare in his stables. She laughed.
"He is irrepressible," said Alaric. "Are you happy now that you have cleared his name?"
Rowena took Alaric’s hand in hers. "Of course. Ever since I found out he was alive I was determined to bring him home. But I am also happy that you are free of suspicion, Alaric. That means just as much to me."
"Does it?" Alaric looked grave. "I can take care of myself, Rowena."
"And a fine job you did of it," snapped Rowena. It annoyed her that he didn’t seem to care about the effort she had made on his behalf. "I suppose you don’t need me for anything. Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot. You need me to have your son."
Alaric frowned and placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her closer. "Rowena, it is not a child I care about. It is you."
Her eyelids fluttered up and she stared at him. "You care about me?"
"Of course I do. I always have. But when I thought Charles might kill you, I knew how important you are to me."
"How important am I?" Rowena’s fingers plucked at the edge of his waistcoat. She felt a rush of emotion at his words, but she knew that he was still holding himself back.
There was a long pause. "You said something to me yesterday," Alaric said softly. "You have been pretending ever since that you didn’t. But I heard the words and I remember them. Did you mean it?"
"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Rowena avoided his stern gaze.
"Yes, you do." Alaric reached out and caught her chin in his long fingers. He lifted her head until she was looking directly into his face. "Tell me again."
"Alaric, this isn’t fair." Rowena tried unsuccessfully to turn her head away. "You’ll only laugh at me."
"I promise I won’t laugh," said Alaric. "Tell me."
Rowena shrugged and looked away. "Very well. I love you. I have loved you since the first time we met, I think."
Alaric drew in a deep breath. "I’m surprised you don’t hate me."
"Why would I hate you?" Rowena sounded stunned.
"I have been very unkind to you at times. I tricked you into marrying me, and then I refused to have faith in you. It would not be at all surprising if I had killed your love."
Rowena shook her head. "I knew that it was only your stubbornness that made you behave that way at times. You are a good and caring man, Alaric. I’ve always known that."
He laughed, his face lighting up. "You are the only one who thinks so."
"I am the only one who truly knows you," said Rowena simply. "Don’t worry, though. I won’t pester you constantly with my emotions. Malcolm has explained to me that men don’t care to be bothered with such nonsense."
Alaric sighed heavily. "Yet another grievance to lay at your brother’s door. Please, speak to me before taking his advice in the future. Rowena, darling, I wish you to tell me often that you love me. I am thankful you came into my life. I must be insane, for you have turned my ordered life upside down, and I thought I was happy before. But I didn’t know joy—or frustration--until I married you. I love you, Rowena."
Her violet eyes grew very wide and her mouth fell open in surprise. She flung her arms around Brayleigh, drawing his dark head down to her golden one, and kissing him soundly.
"My dear, that is because I am the only thing in your collection, that can laugh, and argue, and make love with you. I’m also the only part of it that can help you pass it on to another generation," she finished, pressing up against him enticingly.
Alaric smiled down at her, his hands moving over her back and down to squeeze her hips.
"Perhaps we should return to the house and continue to work on that," he murmured, then took her hand and led her through the moonlight to their future.
A Word from the Author:
I hope you enjoyed reading A Collector's Item. It's my wish that my novels entertain as well as provide an accurate glimpse into the periods in which they're set.
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Other Titles by this Author:
A Most Unusual Situation: A Traditional Version Georgian Romance
(Sweet, no sex; based on a true st
ory; Allegra and Adam's tale)
A Duchess Enraged: An After Dark Version Georgian Romance
(The explicitly sexy version of Allegra and Adam's tale)
The Secret Bluestocking: Isobel's Traditional Regency Romance
(Sweet, no sex; Isobel and Francis' unconventional adventures)
A Lady of Passion
(The explicitly sexy telling of Isobel and Francis' story)
Coming soon:
That Infamous Pearl: Rowena's Traditional Regency Romance
(The sweet, no sex version of A Collector's Item)
READ ON FOR A SNEAK PEAK AT CAROLINE & GRESHAM'S STORY COMING LATER THIS SUMMER!
Caroline Ansley, Countess of Eskmaine, sat on a satin-covered, spindle legged chair against one wall of the ball room at Devonshire House, fanning herself and gazing with a hint of scorn at the assembled crowd. Despite the beauty of the room and the elegance of the throng, she was bored. Perhaps, she reflected, she had spent one too many Seasons in London. Surely there was something more amusing to do than dance, pay afternoon calls, and ride in the park.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone approaching, and turned her head to see Viscount Barford hovering nearby, a determined look on his face. She sighed. While he was a perfectly pleasant young man, Lord Barford’s pursuit of her over the past few weeks had left her cold. He was several years younger than her, and clearly found Caroline, an attractive and wealthy widow, intriguing. Caroline, however, had no desire to listen to his juvenile platitudes.
“Lady Eskmaine, I am delighted to find you here,” said Lord Barford. He bowed low, and availed himself of the opportunity it offered to eye the neckline of her gown, which revealed the swell of her breasts. “Would you honor me with this dance?”
Caroline hoped she didn’t look as impatient as she felt. “I’m sorry, my lord. I am not dancing tonight. I—I have a headache, and am only waiting for my brother and his wife to be done, so that we can return home.”
Disappointment was reflected in the young man’s eyes, but he bowed politely. “Some other time soon, I hope,” he said.
“Perhaps,” said Caroline repressively.
Lord Barford moved away, and she looked after him with a tinge of regret. She could have been more pleasant, but he clearly was enamored of her, and she had no wish to encourage him. She was not a heartbreaker, and had no desire to entangle someone so susceptible. If she had danced with him, no doubt there would be gossip the next day of a possible match. A young widow needed to be careful of the watchful eyes of Society.
There was movement next to her, and, with a flurry of turquoise silk, her sister-in-law, Allegra, Duchess of Gravesmere, sat down in the adjoining chair.
“Good heavens, Caroline, why are you sitting here alone? “ she demanded. “It is a lovely evening and so many amusing people are present. I know I just saw Lord Barford asking you to dance; surely you can’t want to mope the entire evening away.”
Caroline shook her head at her irrepressible sister-in-law. No one would know to look at Allegra that she was a duchess and the mother of a one-year-old son. The woman fairly glowed with energy, her deep blue eyes shining against her porcelain skin, out-competing even her enormous powdered coiffure for attention.
“I’m sorry, Allegra. I’m bored, though I don’t know why. As for Barford, I have no desire to encourage him to think that I have an interest in him.”
“Why not?” Allegra sounded exasperated. “You’re young and beautiful, Caroline. You act as though you are one hundred years old, hunchbacked and lame, and have no desire to ever talk to a man again.”
“I’m not sure I do,” responded Caroline. “I have plenty to do taking care of the estates for Jonathan, who won’t inherit for many years. Why would I want a man hanging about?”
“Surely you miss….well, surely you miss—intimacy,” said Allegra.
Caroline raised her eyebrows. “Intimacy?” she asked, though she knew precisely what Allegra was talking about.
“Yes, intimacy.” Allegra’s eyes searched the ballroom and came to rest on her husband, Adam, Duke of Gravesmere. A spark lit in her eyes as she gazed at his slender figure and handsome face. “I know I would miss it dreadfully if I were deprived of Adam’s….attentions.”
“Yes, well, you and Adam are quite an unusual couple,” said Caroline. “Not all of us are as lucky as you.”
“I know you were very fond of your husband; Adam has told me, so don’t try to convince me otherwise.” Allegra put a gentle hand on Caroline’s arm. “Truly, I wish you would have the same happiness Adam and I have. You must promise me you will try harder to meet people and be pleasant to gentlemen who have an interest in you. I hate to think of you wasting your youth and beauty. Besides, there are so many men in desperate need of your undoubted management skills. They will be happier and wealthier, if none the wiser, and you will not be bored. “
Caroline laughed at the truth of Allegra’s final remark, and smiled warmly at her sister-in-law. It was odd to have Allegra counseling her; the younger woman had, over the years, needed a great deal of advice from Caroline.
“I know you have my best interests at heart, my dear, but you must allow me to make my own way,” Caroline answered. “But I will try my best to follow your advice; you may be right that I am not being fair to myself.”
“Then promise me you will dance with the next gentleman who asks you!” Allegra challenged her.
“I can’t do that,” protested Caroline. “I have no idea who that might be.”
“That is why you should do it! You have become far too staid, Caroline. I never before thought of you as dull.”
“I am not dull!” protested Caroline, though she privately wondered if Allegra was right.
“Then dance with the next man who asks you!” repeated Allegra. “For me? Please?”
“Very well, you tiresome child.” Caroline laughed. “If that means you will leave me alone.”
Allegra smiled warmly. “Since I have won, you have earned your solitude.” She looked up and saw Adam was looking around the room. He saw her, and their eyes locked across the vast space. She flushed slightly. “Adam wants me, I must go. But remember, the next man who asks!”
Caroline sighed. “Yes, I remember. Now, go to your husband. Really, the two of you are positively tiresome.”
Allegra hugged her briefly and rose, her skirts again billowing about her. “We are, aren’t we?” She disappeared and was next seen going down a reel with her husband, hands locked, and a smile on both of their faces. Caroline shook her head, but allowed a smile to cross her lips. It was good to see them so happy after the trials they had been through.
A deep voice cut through her thoughts. “How pleasant to see you again, Lady Eskmaine.”
Caroline hesitated. The voice was familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite place it; it made her both uncomfortable and oddly excited. She turned her head, and her eyes widened as they took in the tall, slim man standing over her, exquisitely garbed in a coat of burgundy silk, with breeches of the most delicate beige, an amused expression on his handsome face.
“Lord Gresham,” she breathed as her fan slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers and fell unheeded to the floor.
“The very same.” The man bent gracefully and picked up her fan, returning it to her with a bow. “Your fan, my lady.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Caroline took the fan, being careful not to touch his fingers. She gazed up at him again and he smiled, his amusement at her befuddlement apparent.
“What are you doing here?” Caroline asked as the silence between them lengthened. “I thought you were on the Continent.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded peevish.
“I was. But I found my heart yearned for England’s shores,” Lord Gresham responded. He waved one hand. “My home, my family, that sort of thing.”
“Nonsense,” snapped Caroline. “As long as you can drink, gamble, and wench, you are doubtless happy anywhere.”
The insul
t left him unfazed. “Perhaps. But it had been so long since I had drunk or gambled in England, that I felt the need for change—and for an English wench.” He smiled at her, a slow smile that made her uncomfortable, and his eyes lingered on the neckline of her dress. For the second time that evening Caroline cursed her modiste for talking her into such a low-cut gown.
“Don’t let me stop you from finding one,” said Caroline tartly. She gestured at the glittering throng. “I’m sure there are at least a dozen women here who would gladly succumb to your renowned, if somewhat shopworn, charms.”
“Ah, yes.” Lord Gresham nodded. “I saw your delightful sister-in-law is here.”
Caroline’s hand tightened on her fan. “I’m afraid she will be impervious to you, so you needn’t waste your time. Adam and Allegra are more in love then ever.”
“Are they? How tiresome of them. And so unfashionable. But then, she always preferred her husband to me, something I never understood.”
“A blow to your pride?” asked Caroline.
Lord Gresham bowed slightly. “A blow indeed.”
“You deserved it.”
“Probably.”
The silence between them once again grew thick, and Caroline hunched one shoulder impatiently. “Pray, don’t let me keep you from finding your wench,” she said. “I have no idea why you persist in hanging about me.”
Lord Gresham smiled warmly, making his face breathtakingly handsome. Caroline blinked in surprise. “I came to ask you to dance,” he said. “ I saw you reject poor Barford a few minutes ago, but perhaps he was too young for you. I thought you might be convinced to accept a gentleman closer to your own age.”
“Closer to my age?” snapped Caroline. “Barford is three and twenty, and I am barely five years older than he. You must be at least five and thirty, my lord.”
A Collector's Item: Rowena's After Dark Regency Romance (The Arlingbys Book 1) Page 39
