Despite her husband’s silence, she’d kept writing.
And writing.
Until Alaina finally forced herself to admit her husband wanted nothing to do with her.
Two could play at that.
Despite her withered spirit, she’d decided to press onward. Her husband may have left, but he hadn’t taken all of her life with him. Gradually, Alaina had put herself back together and created an existence all her own. It had been hard-won and not without its mistakes, but she was proud of all she had achieved. Of who she had become. And nothing Sterling did or said could change that. She simply refused to allow it.
“I’m sure it’ll work itself out in the end,” Penny whispered as she carefully draped the blue gown over her arm. “Perhaps you just need to be reacquainted?”
Alaina wanted to say that she had no interest in knowing the man Sterling had become, but she simply nodded and Penny took her leave.
As soon as she was alone in the silence, Alaina’s heart began to pound painfully in her breast. Her limbs grew shaky with anticipation and she was forced to pace in an effort to channel her anxiety and restlessness.
What if Sterlingdidfollow through on his thinly veiled threat to finally consummate their marriage?
Technically, there wasn’t anything she could do about it…he was correct, it was his right.
She could scream and fight, but he was much larger than she and undoubtedly much stronger. Additionally, no matter how the staff loved her and were loyal to her, they wouldn’t dare come to her rescue even if they did hear her pleas and cries. Deep down, she couldn’t blame them. How could she expect them to put their lives and positions at stake by defying a duke? They’d be forced to stand idly by as she was degraded in the worst possible way.
Alaina’s stomach roiled so terribly that she was forced to press the back of her hand to her lips to keep from being sick.
What was the natural wedding night anxiety eight years earlier had been left to fester with insecurities and anger, and it was now an ugly wound upon her soul. It gnawed at her, needled her in her most vulnerable moments; it cast doubt upon who she was and everything she could be. It had taken years for her to unlearn the meek and subservient ways her mother and the rest of Society had engrained in her before she could carve out the woman who’d lain buried and sleeping deep inside her soul, waiting for the moment to share her voice. It was only after a great deal of reflection and searching for the well of strength in her heart that she became who she was. As a result, she’d learned to project to thetona confident, worldly woman who was a pillar of Society…but she knew a part of the hurt girl she once was would live in her heart forever. And she loathed it.
Her throat grew uncomfortably tight, and her palms became slick.
Her lungs moved in halting fits and bursts.
Her eyes darted back to the door adjoining her room to Sterling’s.
She couldn’t do this.
Not tonight.
She flew to the door in a whirl of gauzy white nightdress only to realize for the first time there was no lock on her side to bar the duke from entering… The blasted thing had probably been designed by a self-important man.
Frantically, she contemplated shoving something before the door to barricade herself in; however, the only furniture she had a chance of moving was the dressing table, and that delicate piece would provide pathetically little protection against a determined husband.
Her thoughts were cut short as heavy, muffled steps thudded on the other side of that dreaded barrier.
Not knowing what else to do now that her time had run out, Alaina sprang across the room, threw her dressing gown across a chair, and vaulted into the bed. Yanking the coverlet up to her ears, she turned to face the window and curled into what she hoped was a believable sleeping position. She attempted to slow her heavy breaths as her heartbeat throbbed and deafened her.
The slow turn of the knob grated on her frayed nerves.
She tried not to flinch when Sterling’s deep voice spoke her name.
She forced her eyes closed as she listened to his feet crossing the plush rug.
Then, he stood over her and every last one of her nerve endings screamed with anxiety.
She could sense his nearness, the heat rolling off his large body; she experienced the firm sweep of his piercing eyes upon her huddled form.
There was a small rustle of fabric as he bent over her, and her breath stalled as she waited for him to violently rip the covers from her body and have his way with her.
Instead, there was a gentle caress of knuckles upon her cheek and his long fingers tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. She felt him still as he watched her for several more heartbeats before his footsteps retreated.
The adjoining door closed with a soft click.
