Page 35 of Courting the Duchess
Sterling was so taken aback by her revelation that he had to pause for several long seconds before formulating a response. “Wonderful.” He could have kicked himself for the blandness of his response, but it pleased him beyond reason that it seemed to satisfy her, regardless. Alaina inclined her head and began preparing her toast.
Perhaps this was a peace offering in place of an outright acceptance of his apologies and explanations. It would do. He could work with this. This gave himhope.
The meal continued in the most companionable silence the Morton House had seen since Sterling’s return.
Alaina barely resistedpinching herself the evening of the Finchley soiree. Removed from the battleground of Morton House, she and Sterling both seemed to fall into natural public roles. Much to her surprise, there was a comfortability between them that went above and beyond social niceties. Sterling did more than simply escort her; he smoothly guided her with a proprietary hand on her back. He inclined his head in her direction when she spoke. He smiled and spoke at all the right times, seeming genuinely interested in all she said and did. He was nothing short of an attentive husband. In all, that evening’s outing—technically their first function as a married couple—was going even better than she’d ever imagined it might. It was certainly the last thing she’d expected following their volatile interaction in the drawing room.
Her mind had been nothing short of scrambled after Sterling’s kisses, his touches…his words. She’d anticipated tenacity, but this went beyond that.
I lie awake each night thinking of all the things I could do to you, of all the things I could make you feel…
It had been her turn to toss and turn that night, her imagination running rampant but continually encountering holes in both her knowledge and her imagination. Not for the first time, she felt like the least-educated married woman in the world.
What could he make her feel?
Even days later, the words caused her cheeks to burn, caused her thighs to squeeze together to staunch the liquid ache that was growing more and more difficult to ignore. She squirmed and rolled in her bed, unable to find relief even in sleep; her dreams were filled with Sterling’s determined voice, his forceful touch, his admission that all the rumors had been lies and he’d never slept with another woman. The admission that all the rumors had been false and he’d never desired anyone else…that he’d wanted only Alaina all this time was heady, indeed. Her initial reaction had been disbelief, but there had been something in his eyes that brought her back to their courtship—an honest vulnerability she hadn’t expected. And she’d believed him.
It left her shaking in both body and soul; he set everything she’d believed on its ear and she was left confused and unsure how to proceed, uneasy about everything that had transpired between them, and on her back foot when it came to how she might handle future interactions with her husband. Since returning home, he’d been nothing she thought he might be, and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that. Of course, his touch was tantalizing, his kisses were drugging, and his words excited her, but could she set aside the animosity she’d held so closely for so long?
Many hours of deliberation and one very long, very blunt conversation with Juliette eventually led her to the decision to accept the invitation to Mr. and Mrs. Finchley’s ball that week. Her friend’s words had spun round and round in her brain as she’d prepared for the evening’s event. Having been present at the last Society meeting, Juliette had witnessed firsthand Sterling’s rage and, what she described, as his poorly-masked yearning for his wife.
“You do know how badly he wants you, do you not?” Juliette had asked with an arched brow as if it were entirely obvious to everyone except Alaina.
“Physical desire is something men cannot help,” Alaina had replied, parroting something her mother had once told her.
“This is different,” Juliette had insisted with a vehement shake of her head. “You were too busy with your lines to see the way he watched you.”
“Because he wished to throttle me,” Alaina snorted.
“But has he ever laid a hand upon you?”
“Well. No.” He’d done a lot of things to her after the women had left, but laying a violent hand upon her hadn’t been one of them. As a matter of fact, she’d never once feared for her physical wellbeing with him. It was more than many women could say of their husbands—especially after intentionally (and repeatedly) antagonizing them.
“Then I ask you to trust me that that man wants nothing more than to hold you. You may strum his every nerve, but he can’t help but need you. For all his faults, I firmly believe he would do anything for you. We all agree.”
Juliette’s words had made Alaina’s pulse quicken. “So now you are all having meetings without me to discuss the state of my marriage. Some friends you are…”
Juliette had taken her hand in her own and squeezed it. “Do not be cross with us; we are simply trying to look out for you. And we all feel as if this marriage may just be salvageable. I, for one, am brave enough to overstep and ask that you consider giving your situation a real chance. Youarealready married. You’ve given him many an opportunity to quit since his return from the Continent—and I am guilty of helping to facilitate—but the duke has weathered them all. Why not make a proper go of it?”
Sterling had made it crystal clear to her that he would not be scared off. She’d unveiled her plan to cow him, but it had only ended with her weak in his arms, breathless as he kissed her and admitted to the most wicked desires. And, if he wouldn’t leave, they would need a way to coexist. She supposed, either way, this ball would be a turning point for them. They’d either go down in glorious flames in a public fashion, or…
The “or” terrified Alaina.
Before leaving Morton House, Alaina had felt foolish when her hands trembled at the sound of a single knock on the main door of her bedchamber. Her nerves had flooded her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes in alternating waves of ice and fire. She’d made one last perusal in her full-length looking glass, examining the daring neckline of her gold-and-ivory gown, the gauze-like overlay, and the subtle, brilliant glitter of metallic threads. She’d straightened her matching elbow-length ivory gloves with their little pearl buttons at her wrists, adjusted the dangle of her diamond-and-pearl earrings as well as the matching pendant at her throat, and exhaled slowly before bidding the knocker to enter.
Just as she’d suspected, Sterling had been on the other side. He was nothing short of breathtaking in his impeccably tailored black formalwear and intricate white cravat with its diamond stickpin. The healthy color of his face stood in attractive contrast to the stark purity of the fabric at his throat, but it seemed to make his hazel eyes all the more striking and captivating. His chestnut hair had been combed back from his face with a bit of pomade, making him even more devastatingly handsome.
Setting aside all of the years of pain and loneliness, Alaina couldn’t believe he was hers. She was a girl again. The confident duchess was reduced to nothing more than a young woman forced to rethink everything she thought she knew about him.
Her uncertainty fled, however, when Sterling’s own insecurities about his reception by her became apparent. His shy smile had been almost boyish, reminding her every bit of the young man who’d courted her. While he’d always been confident in himself as only young men born to hold a lofty title can be, even eight years later, he was still learning his place with her, desperately wanting to make the best impression.
It made her stomach flip with just how endearing it was. Her heart thawed a considerable amount more when he spoke.
“You look…my…I mean…” He’d heaved a sigh and wound up settling for, “You are beautiful, Alaina.” The sound of her name on his tongue was nothing short of delicious. Her lips had parted in surprise when he’d entered the room and quickly took her gloved hand in his. He brought it to his lips to press a long, lingering, searing kiss there, his eyes never leaving hers. She’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe and had to mentally shake herself to regain her composure.
She needed to remember that just because she’d made this concession to attend a social event with him, that didn’t mean she’d forgiven him entirely. It wasn’t an open invitation to allow him back into her life.
Alaina did her best to remain cool and aloof—to treat this like just another evening out—but it was proving to be a nearly impossible task. How could she, when he overwhelmed her senses with his nearness? She felt a shock each time he touched her. His clean scent intoxicated her like fine spirits. His voice was low and intimate, caressing nerves she hadn’t known she possessed.
