“It sounds to me as if a littlewooingis in order,” Sommerfeld added with a sympathetic smile.
“Wooing?” Sterling scoffed. “We’re already married and well past that.”
“Wrong, again,” Sommerfeld said, cutting him off, then leveled another finger at him. “For a man married as long as you have been, you still have a great deal to learn.”
Sterling’s mouth adopted a displeased twist. He sat back and took another drink as the wheels in his mind began to turn.
Woo his wife? Could that really be the solution to his ills?
Normally he wouldn’t place this much stock in another’s opinion, but he liked Sommerfeld. He respected his candor and there was undeniable logic there when one considered how everything else Sterling had tried thus far had all but exploded in his face.
Perhaps the viscount was correct and another tactic was in order…
Chapter Eight
The next morning,Alaina woke as usual. She dressed in her favorite mint green morning dress trimmed in delicate white lace and Penny twisted her hair into a serviceable chignon. After donning her slippers, she descended the staircase to the front hall.
By all accounts, the sunshine streaming through her bedroom window foretold a glorious day; the perfect sort of day to enjoy the sliver of nature London afforded. She was contemplating a walk in the park to take some air before she ran her errands when she reached the ground floor.
And she froze.
Something was different, but she couldn’t immediately place her finger on what it was.
No furniture had been moved. The voluminous arrangement of hydrangea and tulips she’d composed the prior day still sat atop the round table near the front door. The black-and-white marble floor was polished to a glorious shine; the banister was freshly waxed and glowed warm in the morning light. It was quiet. A confused frown furrowed her brow as she turned in a slow circle, trying to discern what had thrown her off. Finally, her eyes settled on the doorway to the library.
It was empty.
Her head tilted in confusion as she wandered over to the portal. She peered inside to find the room abandoned. Everything was as it should be. The hearth had been cleaned and laid. The furniture was arranged as she preferred it. No books lay strewn about. No newspaper was draped over the arm of the leather chair nearest the wall of windows.
Sterling was not there.
Hewas what had been missing.
How strange that—despite her reticence—she had already begun to develop a subconscious routine with him. She would deny it even upon pain of death, but the sight of him waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he propped up the doorframe, never failed to make her stomach flip-flop. Even when she showed him her worst, he never failed to greet her with a charming smile and a pleasant word.
The man was maddeningly incessant.
And there was something rather intoxicating about his persistence.
To suddenly not have him in his usual spot was surprisingly…disappointing. But Alaina gave herself a literal shake and reminded her wayward thoughts that this was what she had wanted.
She desired to be left alone.
She was better off without him.
She turned on her heel and made her way down and across the hall to the morning room. Though she rose much earlier than typical town standards, Sterling still tended to rise and break his fast before her. The staff had grown accustomed to two separate breakfast settings on the days she did not eat in her rooms, and she looked forward to her usual peaceful repast.
She pressed open the door and was instantly assailed by the heady perfume of dozens upon dozens of arrangements of roses in every shape and shade imaginable. Vases covered every inch of the available surfaces from the table to the banquet, even lining the floor and filling all four corners of the room. Standing in the center of it all was Sterling.
He wore his most charming of smiles—one she hadn’t seen in all its glory since he’d asked for her hand all those years ago—and it made him appear more boyish, more approachable. He wore a smart dove-gray coat with a charcoal waistcoat and breeches, making the green in his hazel eyes stand out as an arresting hint of color. The intensity she witnessed there made her heart stutter.
Alaina’s eyes began to sting and water.
And she began an uncontrollable fit of sneezing which forestalled any words she might have squeaked out of her congested throat.
When he realized she wasn’t stopping, Sterling moved from offering her his handkerchief to ushering her from the room with a hand on her lower back. Alaina coughed and snatched the bit of fabric he still clutched in his hand. She gestured in a furious indication to shut the doors as she removed herself several steps further to wipe at her streaming eyes and blow her hopeless nose with a great, unladylike honk.
“My God, are you alright?” Sterling asked as he turned back to her after slamming the double doors. The expression on his face was one great swimming blob in her watery vision, but she recognized concern and confusion in his tone.
