Page 40 of Courting the Duchess
And that delicious interlude on the balcony would live on endlessly in his memory.
Sterling leaned back in the plush squab upholstered in rich ruby-red velvet, stretching his tired legs out before him and crossing them at the ankle.
“I commend your choice for a first outing,” he said gently as they rocked into motion. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Alaina was busy twisting her dance card in her lap. His fingers itched to reach out and replace the card with his hand, to feel the way their palms fit together, to tug her closer… Instead, he forced himself to settle for just being this near to her for so many consecutive hours without bloodshed.
As much as it pained him to acknowledge the truth of it, Alaina had been right about the speculation surrounding their marriage. He’d received a few stomach-churning insinuations that his return was solely to get a legitimate heir on Alaina before returning to his absentee ways; more still had inquired if he’d be willing to divulge some of his tantalizing stories. Cold set-downs had awaited those men. Barely banked rage met the one or two men who’d been uncouth enough to comment that Sterling’s return would surely help bring the duchess to heel—that it would do her good to have a man’s hand in her life. It was one thing for him to consider his wife a handful, and another entirely to have relative strangers take the liberty of saying such things.
It sickened him to realize that this was just a taste of all Alaina had endured in his absence. He was beginning to understand how she’d developed such teeth and claws. Necessity was a powerful tool of adaptation.
More than once, he’d had to force his hands to unclench. Laying an earl, knight, or obscenely wealthy businessman out flat in the Finchley ballroom would serve no purpose other than making him feel momentarily better. It would do nothing to erase incorrect assumptions and might add more fuel to the fire. Instead, Sterling had to tell himself that things would change now that he was home. Alaina did not have to face these boors and harpies alone. He’d meant what he’d said when he told her he would not leave her. Together, they would weather this cruel world; neither would be alone again, and he found that intensely comforting.
Not that it had been a chore, but he’d done his best to present that united front he’d expounded to Alaina. He’d gladly do so again and again until the practice became a habit for them both, and he was determined to extinguish the nasty rumors surrounding the Morton Dukedom and relieve Alaina of the burden she’d shouldered alone for so long, if he had to stomp the flames out himself one by one.
“Thank you,” Alaina replied lightly, offering him only the shell of her dainty ear as she turned her attention to the passing scenery.
“Am I mistaken or is Miss Finchley one of the ladies from your reading society?” he asked about the dark-eyed, curvaceous daughter of their hosts with whom he’d done his polite duty and shared a dance. She’d been quiet and shy, providing only one-word answers to his inquiries, but she’d moved with all the grace and elegance of a woman who had spent years with a dancing master.
One corner of Alaina’s mouth tilted in a bemused smile when she finally met his gaze. “She is.”
“How appropriate.”
She chuckled lightly, the throaty sound sending a shockwave straight to his groin. “You should count yourself fortunate that the company I keep is more understanding than most; they are not the usual Society lot.”
“I do count myself lucky in many ways, Alaina.”
When his knee knocked into hers as they took a turn…she didn’t pull away.
*
Sterling escorted Alainaup the sweeping staircase to the floor where their bedchambers were situated. Side-by-side. Tantalizingly close.
And, when he stopped in front of her door, when she looked up at him with her wide, luminous blue eyes with her arm still wrapped through his, when just the edge of her lower lip was caught between her straight white teeth, he could almost fool himself into believing that they were a normal man and wife.
That life hadn’t gotten in the way.
That she’d allow him to guide her a few steps further to his own door.
Or, better yet, that she would tug him into her room and shut out the rest of the world.
“Thank you,” Alaina breathed.
He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “For?”
“For a lovely evening. It was surprisingly enjoyable.”
“Surprisingly?” he scoffed lightheartedly. “I can see I have quite a bit of work to do if I am to elevate your expectations of me.”
He knew she saw his eyes flit to her smiling mouth; he felt it in the way her fingers tightened ever so slightly on his bicep.
Just one taste.
He wouldn’t go back on his word—he wouldn’t press her for more, no matter how badly his body ached for it—but he could no more stop himself from leaning down and pressing a gentle, achingly slow kiss to her lips than he could his lungs from breathing.
He needed this.
He neededher.
Sterling forced himself to pull back just when he felt her leaning into him. It nearly killed him, but he knew it was necessary for his sanity.
