Beautiful Lies (13 page)

“It's about time.” An angry Archer straightened his shoulders and flicked the kerchief to one side.

He followed the woman through the hallway to the back of the bungalow. He glimpsed a European woman holding a child dressed in spotless white, but he was not introduced, and neither child nor mother glanced at him. The housekeeper abandoned him at a door, and Archer knocked.

Fabian called for him to enter, but he was not alone. With him were Sebastian Somerset and Broome's police sergeant.

Archer's pulse soared, beating perceptibly in the hollow of his throat, right behind the pearl he had come to sell. “It seems you're having a meeting.” He didn't enter. “Should I ask if I'm the subject?”

“Come in, Mr. Llewellyn,” Fabian said. “And please close the door behind you.”

Archer moved into the center of the room so as not to appear hesitant or nervous. “I came to conduct business with you, Mr. Wells. Private business.”

“Mr. Somerset and the sergeant have asked to join us. They've heard you have an extraordinary pearl to sell, but there seems to be some question about how you got it.”

Archer let his gaze settle on Sebastian, whose face was expressionless. “Mr. Somerset heard about the pearl directly from me. I didn't expect to discuss it with him quite this way.”

“We'll come straight to the point,” the sergeant said. “Your crew insists that you killed your business partner at sea so the pearl would belong entirely to you.”

“They all liked Tom—everybody did—and they want somebody to blame. Maybe it was my fault. He wanted to dive. Our tender was sick. I thought I knew what I was doing. But he never signaled me. I waited. Everything seemed fine. Then I felt the line dragging—” He closed his eyes, swallowing, like a man trying not to lose his composure.

“Juan Fernandez claims you damaged the helmet, that the air couldn't fill it properly.”

Archer opened his eyes and shook his head. “How could he possibly know something like that? How could anyone? We had to cut Tom out of the helmet when we brought him up. We destroyed it getting him free.”

“Suppose you tell us your theory on what happened, then?” Sebastian said.

“I checked the equipment before he went down. Everything was fine. But he had only dived a few times. Those dives had gone like clockwork. So when this one didn't, he panicked. He shouldn't have been diving in the Graveyard. He was too inexperienced. Maybe he stepped in a hole and couldn't adjust his air. He didn't signal, and I didn't know anything was wrong. We were pumping air to him, but he wasn't getting enough.” Archer shook his head. “That's all I know. That's all anyone ever will.”

“Convenient that you had to cut up the helmet,” Sebastian said.

Archer narrowed his eyes. “Do you think I should have buried him inside it? Don't you think I owed him better than that?”

The sergeant looked at the other men. “There's nothing to be done about this. We have Mr. Llewellyn's word against the crew's. Any proof of tampering has been destroyed. Mr. Llewellyn certainly had a motive for killing Tom Robeson, but without any evidence of foul play, a motive is meaningless.”

“I would have spoken to you about this anywhere, any place,” Archer said. “You didn't have to arrange a surprise meeting. If I had anything to hide, I would have left town immediately.”

“You haven't left town because you're planning to take my daughter with you when you do,” Sebastian said, before the sergeant could answer. “My daughter
and
the promise of everything she'll inherit.”

“That's absurd.” Archer knew better than to deny he wanted Viola. “I love your daughter, it's true. But not for anything but herself.”

Sebastian smiled coldly. “I know you were the one who assembled the evidence against Freddy Colson, Llewellyn. And I believe deep in my heart—where evidence
isn't
required—that you murdered your partner. A man like you would taint the Somerset bloodlines. If Viola marries you, she will be dead to me.”

Archer drew himself up straighter. “As to Freddy, I really believed you should know the caliber of the man working most closely with you. I thought I was doing you a favor. As to Tom, I can only say again that I am falsely accused.”

“And as to my daughter?”

Archer was frantically trying to think of a way to convince Sebastian that he was not the scoundrel he appeared. Without the promise of her inheritance, what point was there to marrying Viola? “I can't speak for her, can I? She's a good daughter, and your regard means too much for her to take this—”

Sebastian threw back his head and hooted. “My regard? You don't know my daughter, do you? She would kill me as I slept if she thought no one would find her out. Now that you have money she'll go anywhere with you, if you ask her. Just know that when she goes,
nothing
of mine goes with her.”

“It seems your best bet is to sell the pearl immediately and leave town,” Fabian said, speaking for the first time since the interrogation had begun. “I'm prepared to give you the best price in Broome to facilitate your departure. And I'll find you a buyer for the
Odyssey,
as well, although I warn you, the price will be low, since no crew will want to sail on her again.”

Archer knew that refusing to sell the pearl to Fabian was tantamount to slitting his own throat. He would get the best price right here, and he needed every cent he could mus
ter. What was the point of continuing this conversation? He had no desire to remain in Western Australia, and what these men thought of him was immaterial now that marrying Viola was out of the question.

He unknotted the handkerchief and removed it carefully. Then he walked to the table in front of Fabian and laid the handkerchief on it. “Tom called this stone the Pearl of Great Price.”

“Apt description, considering he paid for it with his life,” Sebastian said.

“Not at my hand!” Archer unrolled the handkerchief slowly until the pearl was revealed.

The other men stared at it for a long time before anyone spoke.

Finally Fabian reached out to touch it with one trembling finger. “It is a pearl worth killing for.”

 

Archer had known that the pearl would bring him a fortune. With a relatively untrained eye he had seen its worth. But even
he,
with all his hopes and dreams, had been stunned at Fabian's offer. He had taken it without bargaining or considering his options. He was now a wealthy man.

And the pearl, with its dangerous beauty and the memories it stirred, was gone from his life.

He went immediately to the bank and deposited most of the money so he could sleep that night without fear. He would rest and recover from the past weeks, then he would prepare for a lengthy journey to find land. Without the promise of Viola's inheritance, he would have to choose carefully. Land he couldn't develop immediately would be useless. But with luck and proper husbandry, he could still establish the dynasty he had dreamed of for so long.

It was just too bad that Viola couldn't be the mother of his sons.

At the hotel, he slipped off his boots and fell on the bed, fully expecting deep sleep to claim him at last. But to his own surprise, sleep eluded him. He had what he'd worked and killed for. He was safe from the law, and once he was rested, he could begin the life he'd dreamed of since childhood.

Yet despite that, sleep wouldn't come.

An hour later he was still staring at the ceiling when a knock sounded at his door. He crossed the room and opened it with one hand resting on his pistol. Viola stood on the threshold, looking even more beautiful than he'd remembered.

He released the butt of his pistol and pulled her inside, closing the door behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“My father locked me in my bedroom when he heard you were in town. He's been paying Ashwar on the sly to bring him notes from my admirers before I receive them. When he got yours, he locked me away.”

“Your father thinks I killed my partner.”

“So he's told me repeatedly.”

Archer waited for her to ask whether it was true, but it seemed that did not interest her. “Why are you here?”

“I told you I would marry you if you became a rich man.”

“Your father will disinherit you if you do. He's warned me.”

She didn't ask if he would marry her anyway. She seemed to have no illusions. “But he didn't tell you everything, Archer. He didn't tell you that I
have
an inheritance. With or without his consent. That's why he locked me away.”

Archer touched a curl lying provocatively over her shoulder, and she didn't object. Hope stirred inside him, and something more. “What inheritance would that be, Viola?”

“My mother's brother died a year ago. He owned land all over Australia. Land foolish, my mother always said. She had no use for him.”

Archer fondled the curl, and still she said nothing. “He left it all to you?”

“No, he left each parcel to a different niece or nephew. Mine is the largest, a station in the Northern Territory. He called it Jimiramira, an Aboriginal word, but I don't know what it means.”

“Why didn't you mention this before, when we were discussing the future?”

“It's only just been settled, and I only found out after you'd sailed away. My father wants me to have nothing to do with it, of course. He says it's worthless, that nothing will come of land there. But I've seen my uncle's letters about it. My land's near a river. So there's water there, and rich grazing plains. He said the area is largely unsettled now, but others will flock there when the word gets out. The man who gets there first and establishes a homestead…why, he'll be like a king, won't he? And the woman who stands with him will be a queen.”

“And what will you do with it, Viola?”

“I don't know. What should I do with it, do you suppose?”

He tugged at the curl, and she came willingly toward him. He gazed into her eyes and saw she was simply proposing a bargain. They could help each other and, perhaps, find some pleasure doing so. Each of them was the other's best choice for a future.

“I will be the mistress of a great station that will thrive with the money you put into it,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “And in return I will give you my land and sons.”

He kissed her, and she didn't resist. She didn't resist ev
erything that came afterwards, either. In fact, she seemed to genuinely enjoy it.

But when they were lying on Archer's bed together after the lovemaking had ended, both of them stared at the ceiling.

Neither of them slept.

 

They were married as quickly as the law allowed. Viola was permitted to take her clothes from the house, but nothing more. Her mother smuggled several good pieces of family jewelry to her but refused to meet with her one final time to say goodbye.

They found an Aboriginal man who knew the route to Jimiramira and would guide them there. Archer bought the best horses and wagon he could find and all the supplies they would need for the trip, which would be grueling at best. Viola wasn't looking forward to making what promised to be a treacherous journey, but she agreed that the reward would be worth it.

On the morning they left Broome, they were halted just outside of town by a man blocking the road in a familiar black buggy. Sebastian Somerset climbed down, leaving his groom in charge of the horses, and walked over to look up at his daughter sitting proudly on the thoroughbred Archer had bought for her.

“I couldn't let you leave without a wedding gift,” Sebastian said.

Archer looked on silently. There was nothing Sebastian could do now that interested him.

“What is it?” Viola asked. Her hands were folded on the reins, and they didn't even flutter in anticipation.

“You'll have to open it to see.”

She hesitated and looked at Archer. He nodded, and she
extended one gloved hand toward her father. He gave her a small package and stepped back.

“Thank you,” she said stiffly.

“I want you to open it now,” Sebastian said. “It would mean the world to me.”

For a moment Archer thought she would refuse, just to spite Sebastian, but she shrugged and tore it open. Her eyes widened, and she looked at him as if she couldn't believe what she saw.

Archer pulled his horse closer and gazed down at the object in her hand. The Pearl of Great Price gleamed up at him.

“It's yours, Viola,” Sebastian said. “Yours, but not your husband's. It's yours to do with whatever you will. You could sell it, of course, but it's a rare pearl, and you'll be an even rarer sort of woman if you keep it. It's truly one of a kind.”

Sebastian looked up at Archer. “And though you don't own it, Llewellyn, it will always be a reminder of your days in Broome, won't it? And everything that took place here. Sometimes a man needs a reminder.” He smiled, as if he were genuinely pleased with his own generosity.

“But why?” Viola said. “You hate me. You have since I was a child. Why have you given me this?”

“Consider it the final word in a lifelong conversation we've had. And, Viola, since the pearl is almost beyond price, I don't have to warn you to hide it from everyone. Men have killed for pearls, haven't they, Llewellyn?”

Viola still looked bewildered, but Archer understood. “She is my wife! We share everything. I would never harm her.”

“I'm immeasurably comforted, my boy. Immeasurably. Take good care of my daughter and her pearl. And may the good Lord give you both the life you deserve.” Sebastian turned without another glance at either of them and strolled back to the buggy.

He climbed in, took the reins and pulled off the road so they could pass.

Archer could hear him laughing until they were far away.