The viscount averted his gaze and propped the cane against the table once more. “I am sure you’ve received any number of invitations since your return,” Sommerfeld said, smoothly transitioning the conversation. “Forgive me for adding one more to your plate, but I’m certain my wife would enjoy having you and Lady Morton join us for supper one evening soon. She is only just reentering society after confinement,” he added the last for clarification.
“Confinement? Well, then congratulations are in order. My apologies for the delay; I hadn’t realized.” Sterling held out his hand to Sommerfeld and the other man took it gratefully.
“Thank you,” Sommerfeld replied, beaming with undeniable pride. His entire countenance glowed with it and his grin was remarkably wide. “My wife and the girls are all doing well. I fear a house full of women is my penance for the sins of my youth,” he chuckled and sat back.
“Girls? You’ve twins then?”
Sommerfeld nodded. “Both are already as fiery as their mother, and all three of them know exactly the ways in which to try my patience and obtain everything they want.”
Sterling emitted a small smile at the picture his companion painted. It was clear to even those far less observant than he that Sommerfeld adored his wife and wasn’t the least bit disappointed that she’d given him daughters instead of an heir. To say Sterling found the situation enviable was an understatement.
How pleasant it must be to have a wife who could stand your presence.
“It can’t be that miserable, can it?” Sommerfeld asked with an exaggerated grimace. Sterling was appalled to realize he’d grumbled aloud, but the viscount didn’t appear to be taken aback by his informal bluntness. “See here,” Sommerfeld began as he sat forward with his elbows on his knees; “If I may speak candidly—and do know that I genuinely like her quite a bit and that I say this with the utmost respect—Lady Morton is a handful. Of course, I’ve only ever seen her in public settings and as a guest in her home, but I can only imagine what she must put you through in private. A more determined, outspoken woman I’ve never met, though she is also undeniably, unapologetically herself.”
Sterling’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. Far from being offended, he actually appreciated the assessment of his wife and found it aligned with what he’d come to know of her these past several days. There was something oddly reassuring about it…like he’d finally learned a fact about this new Alaina.
“I cannot claim my memory to be impeccable, though I will say she has always been a true friend to my wife even if she may not be the same girl I remember from her debut. In fact, I am unaware of any woman who would dare call her a false or fickle friend. She is kind to a fault, if meddlesome; she is a woman driven by her moral compass.” Sommerfeld inclined his head. “And I’m sure you are aware just how rare that is in our circles. Women are more likely to throw a dagger as soon as your back is turned as they are to smile sweetly to your face.”
“I do respect your estimation, Sommerfeld,” Sterling said honestly as he polished off the last of his drink and set aside the cut crystal glass. “Tell me, what is your opinion of this Reading Society? You mentioned your wife was a member and I would like an honest reply. Everyone is either trying to ingratiate themselves to me or they beg me to intervene to make their own lives more tolerable.” It was instantly clear that Sterling didn’t need to elaborate further. Sommerfeld shrugged and sat back to rub a knuckle into the muscle of his thigh; the movement appeared to be more a subconscious action than anything.
“I admit, it is nice to see Lady Sommerfeld reading things other than her medical treatises and journals. She never had a Season in Town and knew precious few people at the time of our marriage, so the Society has afforded her a way to meet and make friends and connections within theton. I know some question the ideas they discuss and the materials they read, but I gather quite a few of those people are simply jealous they’ve not received an invitation to attend, or they are husbands irked by their wives discovering their own passions.” Sommerfeld chuckled. “For her part, my wife doesn’t seem much worse for the wear, even if she does return home with the occasional radical idea. In fact—” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper so it wouldn’t carry further than their corner of the room. “I quite appreciate it whenever they read the naughtier books because she will come home feeling particularly adventurous.”
Sommerfeld winked.
Sterling choked and wished he had a drink to blame it upon.
Naughty books?
Where in God’s name had Alaina found those…and why had he not yet reaped the benefits?
Who was he fooling?
He knew exactly why he hadn’t.
His wife loathed him. Couldn’t stand the sight of him. Likely fantasized about the myriad ways she might rid herself of him.
The last thing on her mind would be ways she might implement things from her illicit stories…even ifhecouldn’t stop pondering all the ways he’d like to giveherpleasure.
Sterling signaled for another drink and decided he’d have to delay his meeting with his solicitor another day. This conversation was far too riveting, and he’d already imbibed two drinks too many. He couldn’t be trusted to perform business of any worth.
He, like most men, preferred to believe he could hold his liquor well…but he’d admitted to himself long ago that drinking was not his game of choice—especially when he needed to keep his head about him. It was precisely why he’d avoided anything more than a few nips here or there for appearances. However, there, in White’s with a man whom he’d very much like to eventually call one of the first true friends he’d ever had, Sterling felt at ease. He could step away from the angst within his home, he could breathe a little easier now that he was in a familiar place, but he would never be able to fully release the habit of scanning the room and anticipating the motives of everyone within. It was nice to pretend, though, and to allow himself to be a little less cautious with his actions and his words.
If only he could do the same with Alaina.
“Ah,” Sommerfeld began thoughtfully, reading volumes in Sterling’s silence. “Your homecoming has not been what you expected, then?” It was more a statement than a question.
Sterling laughed sardonically, his words ringing with harsh candor, “I received exactly the reception I expected…I simply did not anticipate it being this protracted.” He hadn’t believed Alaina would welcome him with open arms and drag him into her bed, but he’d hoped by this point that he at least would have earned a modicum of warmth. Perhaps consummated their union, if he was lucky. But he was quickly coming to realize that he’d vastly underestimated the female ability to hold a grudge.
“If I may?” Sommerfeld held up his palms but didn’t wait for a reply. “If marriage to my own spitfire has taught me one thing, it’s that a little groveling can go a long way.”
“I’m a duke. Dukes grovel to no one and for nothing,” he replied flatly.
“Nowthat—” Sommerfeld pointed a finger in Sterling’s direction. “—is precisely the attitude that will keep your bed cold. To the world, we are wealthy, powerful, titled men. At home, in private, our wives rule.” Sterling cocked a skeptical brow. “Oh, we like to think we are in control,” Sommerfeld added quickly; “but we aren’t. They hold our hearts and our bollocks in their pretty little beaded reticules.Weare the ones at their mercy, whether we wish to admit it or not. When we do wrong, no simple apology will suffice.”
“You and I suffer from a similar affliction,” Sommerfeld added gravely, but paused as Sterling’s next drink was delivered. The employee retreated silently to a faraway corner to await his next task and the viscount continued. “We, both of us, are possessed by women who know their worth and they’ll be damned before they allow anyone—even us—to treat them as anything less.”
Sterling took a sip of his fresh brandy and pondered Sommerfeld’s words while the sweet heat slid down his throat and curled through his veins. He decided he was simultaneously appreciative of the other man’s bluntness and irked that everyone seemed to know more about his wife and his marriage than he did.
