And her revelation confirmed it with sickening permanence. The guilt roiling inside of him threatened to consume him. He’d grappled with it almost incessantly since he’d left England, so it was far from a new sensation, but that didn’t lessen its impact.
Alaina had been forced to move on and create her space in the world. She’d had to for the sake of their marriage’s appearance.
And for her own life.
Though, if they continued thusly, snarling at one another like caged lions, he just might strangle her…
He cleared the stickiness from his throat and diverted their conversation to its original topic. It was far too dangerous to continue down the vein upon which they had touched.
“Now that I have returned, I’ll be expected to exert some influence upon the materials in your society. I do not intend to forbid your meetings, only strongly suggest that you choose more suitable options. Your choices reflect upon us both, as well as the St. John name and Morton Duchy.” Sterling chose to ignore her insolent brow. “I will also be expected to place a bit of a leash upon your antics—your furniture jumping, for example—and to encourage you to take up your proper role. Divert your considerable energy into other—”
“So the prodigal husband returns, and the Duchess of Morton turns her life around to become a less scandalous Society matron?” she scoffed. “No doubt thetonwill assume you’ve deigned to give up your life of pleasure to rein me in. And where is the fairness in that?” she demanded, flinging her arms out wide as if to demonstrate the breadth of the affront. “No one attempted to chastise you when you did whatever wished in the last eight years…but Heaven forbid I do something I enjoy in your absence—something which truly harms no one, mind you—and I am judged harshly for it. I do not see why I shouldn’t be allowed to continue my life as it was. I certainly managed well enough without you—”
“Because it is well past time both of us grew up and assumed our proper roles!” he roared, pounding a tight fist against the arm of his chair as an outlet for the tension thrumming throughout his body. “I, as Duke of Morton and in my proper place in the House of Lords; and you, Alaina, as my wife and the mother of my heir.”
The last caused an icy veil to fall over her face, and he berated himself all over again. What was it about her that made him say things he instantly regretted? He immediately cursed his unthinking words. The last thing he wanted her to believe was that he’d returned solely to turn her into his broodmare. He normally prided himself on his ability to craft cogent arguments and use words to his advantage. All that went out the window when it came to his wife. The color drained from her cheeks and the fire in her eyes fell painfully frigid and steely. She uttered nothing, but the accusation in her silence rang more loudly than words ever could have.
While the thought of finally consummating their marriage was a boon he had anticipated with more than a little eagerness, it was far from the only reason he’d finally come home. To make it seem as such was a grave injustice to the wounded woman before him.
Sterling sighed heavily, imagining his anger being released in a cloud between them before it thinned and dissipated in the air.
“I realize this will take a great deal of adjustment for us both, but we can accomplish it if we make the effort. Are you willing to give this a go with me, Alaina? As I requested this morning, can we try our hands at even the barest civility?”
Her silent response was unnerving. His only reassurance in this disaster of a marriage was that she’d have filed for an annulment long ago had she truly wished to be rid of him. It would have been within her right and there would have been embarrassingly little he could do about it. An unconsummated wedding would have been grounds enough, along with his abandonment. He assumed either her family had talked her out of it, or she’d seen that the advantages to being a duchess far outweighed the freedom from the marriage.
Whatever the reason, they remained married against all odds…and Sterling had held onto that knowledge throughout his time away. And, now that they were finally face-to-face again, he’d be damned if he lost everything he’d held dear all these years.
Finally, Alaina graced him with a curt nod.
Sterling couldn’t prevent the hopeful tilt of his mouth as he retrieved his tea and sat back in his chair. It was a victory…a small one, but a victory, nonetheless. He’d take it for what it was and relish the accomplishment.
“Now that we have dispensed with that unpleasantness, what do you plan next for your reading society—since I take it you’ll not be abandoning it altogether?” He took a sip of his tea and watched as she hesitated for a moment before picking up her own cup.
“Oh, only Shakespeare.”
Sterling nodded in approving reply before setting his tea aside and taking up the small plate Alaina had fixed for him with a selection of dainty sandwiches. He said a silent prayer in thanks that peas were blessedly absent.
How out of hand could Shakespeare possibly be in a room full of Society women? He quite enjoyed The Bard himself.
The cat in the cream grin spreading Alaina’s full lips should have warned him of the impending danger…
Chapter Six
After their conversationin the parlor, it was clear to Alaina that it would be far safer to have the next few Reading Society meetings outside of her home and out from under Sterling’s censorious gaze. She’d scrawled a quick note to her friend, Meredith Stratford, Viscountess Sommerfeld, about hosting the event at her Mayfair Townhouse. The request was accepted with aplomb and, three days later, Alaina and the rest of the Society members were comfortably ensconced in a lovely mint-colored parlor. Lady Sommerfeld had been looking for an informal way to entertain for the first time since she’d given birth to her twin daughters, so she eagerly accepted the opportunity to host.
The viscountess was of Scottish ancestry on her mother’s side, and it was displayed in her fair complexion, luminous indigo eyes, and rich red curls. She’d been a young widow when she met her current husband, and watching the two of them together left no doubt that they’d been a love match—especially when the viscountess had been enceinte. The viscount and heir to the Aldborough Earldom was nothing shy of golden. He was a stunningly handsome lion of a man whom Alaina had first met years earlier during her one and only Season as an unmarried young woman. Sommerfeld had already garnered quite the reputation for youthful carousing, so her mother had warned her off him immediately following her first dance with him. Apparently, a future earldom was not quite enough for her mother to overlook the depth of his wild ways…but a dukedom was somehow forgivable for anything.
Sommerfeld’s sardonic, singular brand of sarcastic humor was a consistent source of amusement. Pairing him up with his fiery wife—one of the only people who seemed relatively impervious to his effortless charm and guile—produced entertaining banter whenever Alaina came to call. The two of them were supremely well-matched and a joy to be around.
It had taken several years for the marriage to produce offspring and the wait had taken both a mental and physical toll. The pregnancy hadn’t been easy on Lady Sommerfeld, either, and Alaina had moved several of their meetings to accommodate Meredith’s physical limitations. Carrying twins had been a trial, but matters had been helped greatly by the skill and knowledge of Juliette’s husband, Dr. McCullom. Alaina had been present when there was a slight scare early in Meredith’s pregnancy, and, eventually, the babes had come a few weeks earlier than anticipated, but McCullom’s expertise and reputation for immaculate cleanliness helped both mother and infants survive and thrive without illness or childbed fever.
Though the delicate skin beneath Meredith’s eyes was slightly bruised from sleeplessness, there was no mistaking that her friend was infinitely happy with her life in the way women were only when they felt entirely fulfilled. Meredith’s normally slim figure was still slightly plump from pregnancy, but it seemed not to bother her. She was confident in her place and fairly glowed with love and contentment.
That day, Alaina arrived at the Sommerfeld Townhouse an hour early for their planned Society meeting purely for the joy of holding and cooing over the perfect, petite infants uninterrupted.
“You are going to be a true beauty, little Catherine,” Alaina whispered as the tiny strawberry-blond babe in her arms pursed her lips in sleep and nuzzled more closely.
“My poor husband will be a mess during their first Season,” Lady Sommerfeld chuckled as she tucked the swaddling more tightly around the other infant nestled within the crook of her arm. Elizabeth was identical to Catherine in every way from the dimples on her fingers to her round little nose. Alaina was unable to tell them apart, but Meredith was possessed of a keen mother’s eye and never lost track of who was who.
