Her mind spun helplessly with the possibilities. What had he been about to do? Did he desire to take her hand in a show of sincerity? Perhaps tuck another lock of hair behind her ear as he had last night in a confusing display of tenderness?
Alaina silently chided herself.
The last thing she should want is to have him touching her—no matter if she wondered if his hands were as soft as she recalled, or if they, too, had hardened and become calloused by time like the rest of him.
And Penny was far too skilled with hairpins to allow her to leave the house with wayward curls in need of tucking, so his touching her could only be born of something inexplicable—something she did not have the patience or stomach to analyze right then.
Alaina’s lips tightened into a fine line a moment before she finally spoke. “I plan to call upon a friend,” she offered.
One of his brows rose. “At this time of the morning? Unless the habits of thetonhave changed drastically in my absence, there are hours yet until customary calling time.”
“She is a habitually early riser,” Alaina sighed impatiently; “and it is easier to meet uninterrupted before most others are out and about.”
Sterling’s lips tilted into a charming half smile and the clouds lifted from his hazel eyes.
Alaina’s traitorous heart stuttered.
It was disconcerting for her to witness these small glimpses of the young man she’d once known—the man who’d spent hours discussing literature with her, taking her on her favorite walks, endlessly wandering through the exhibits at the British Museum and lingering as long as she liked. His handsomeness had been a single facet of what had drawn her to him, the least of which being his title. She’d once genuinely believed him to be a man whom she could love with every part of her. It was far easier to hate Sterling when he was out of her sight and when he acted like the relative stranger he was. It was unfair how, with one glance, one tilt of his head, she was transported eight years in the past and he could make her blood hum.
“There now…” His deep voice vibrated the air between them. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
The momentary spell was shattered with those few words; Alaina rolled her eyes and stepped back further from his reach. She heard him mutter a curse beneath his breath as if berating himself for severing whatever thread of tenuous peace that had begun to form.
Good.
It would be satisfying to be the one to walk out on him for a change.
Before she could leave, however, he spoke once more.
“Upon which friend are you calling?”
“One you don’t know,” Alaina practically snapped. Why couldn’t he understand that she had created a life outside of this sham of a marriage? Why couldn’t he accept that she’d managed well enough on her own in his absence? She wasn’t about to report to him every one of her comings and goings. For one, he had no right to them; for another, she had her own duties and obligations to uphold. There were people who counted on her and she would rather die than let them down. Not everything in her life revolved around this man, and that was his own doing. She’d have given him everything if only he’d seen fit to stay by her side.
Sterling heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, tousling the once-tidy chestnut locks. Alaina hated that it only made him more attractive. “Fine,” he growled. “Just go.”
He snatched up the sheaves of newspaper from the floor and the heels of his polished hessians clipped across the entryway toward the library as he held his broad shoulders uncomfortably stiff within his rich green coat.
A niggling grain of guilt rubbed at Alaina’s conscience. Even she couldn’t lie to herself and call that exchange entirely “civil.”
It had been years since she’d had to answer to anyone. Having someone ask such questions of her—let alone the man whom she’d cursed for so long—felt like a scrape upon an old wound to her personality and sense of self.
Anyone could see that she’d managed well enough alone. She prided herself on the fact that she had found occupations of her own, remained free from scandal for the most part (above and beyond that which Sterling had caused), and had never been a woman who lived above her means (not that she could have spent her full pin money each month had she tried). And now to have Sterling question her—after all he’d put her through!—was beyond unfair and nauseatingly galling. He’d never had to answer for his actions, so why should she?
She shook off any hint of guilt and left the house, descending the front steps to the Morton carriage awaiting her.
*
“You must admit,Alaina, the dukeisuncommonly handsome.”
Alaina did a poor job of masking a cough as she set down her cup of tea. Juliette had been counted among her friends for years and she liked to think they could speak plainly, but it seemed marriage had loosened her friend’s tongue and given her a new boldness.
For things like commenting on the attractiveness of one’s spouse, it appeared.
“From a purely objective standpoint, of course,” Juliette added, though Alaina never had any cause to doubt Juliette’s loyalty to her beloved husband.
Alaina dabbed at her lips with an embroidered napkin before setting it beside the tea service. The china and settings were finer than one would expect in a physician’s home; however, Dr. Ian McCullom was no ordinary physician, and his spouse was no ordinary physician’s wife.
Alaina and Juliette sat in the newly refinished parlor of the three-story townhouse the McCulloms had purchased shortly after their recent marriage. Juliette was the twin sister to the Earl of Hopesend and her marriage to a man who worked for a living—even one as respected and honored as Dr. McCullom—had caused quite the uproar. Nearly everyone in thetonhad abandoned Juliette, looking down their patrician noses at the love match, but Alaina remained steadfastly true to her longtime friend.
