“Charmed, my lady; though I do believe we’ve encountered one another before.”
Mischief danced in her eyes. “I might recall an instance; would you refresh my memory?”
Sommerfeld flashed a wicked smile at his wife’s wit a moment before he could mask it. Clearly, the secret was out.
“I believe we’ve all had enough Shakespeare for the time being,” Sterling replied good-naturedly before turning back to Alaina. “I hadn’t realized we were having guests.”
“I knew you were busy and—” she stuttered uncharacteristically when he took her hand and pressed her bare knuckles to his lips in greeting. “And you were with Mr. Bates all morning. I didn’t think you wanted to be disturbed.”
“You could never disturb me,” he whispered, and she set her teacup down a bit more forcefully than she’d intended.
“Pardon our intrusion upon your day,” Sommerfeld chimed in. “We only intended to stop by for a short time.”
“I get a bit anxious whenever I need to leave the girls,” Lady Sommerfeld explained somewhat bashfully.
“Well, I cannot blame you,” Alaina reassured her. “They are absolutely darling.”
“You have my most sincere congratulations, by the way,” Sterling added earnestly.
The other couple beamed warmly, accepting his words. “Thank you; we’re planning on having them christened in the next few weeks,” said the viscountess. The way she and her husband squeezed each other’s hands in a silent language all their own was not lost on Sterling. He glanced at Alaina out of the corner of his eye.
What would it be like to have that with her? Would she ever allow him in enough for them to develop such a bond?
Sterling cleared his throat and addressed the viscount. “While this is a lovely spread, I was thinking of heading to the study for a cigar. Would you care to join me?” The proximity with Alaina was too intoxicating for him to handle. He didn’t trust himself to be so near to her with an audience—not when the memory of her coming apart in his arms was so fresh in his mind.
Sommerfeld looked to his wife who lifted her chin in silent agreement. “I think I just might, thank you, Morton.” He snagged two more biscuits from the platter, pressed a quick kiss to his wife’s temple, and used his cane to stand. Sterling took note of the leg brace the other man wore and, rather than hinder his movements, it seemed to lend him more strength and mobility than without it. Sommerfeld bowed to Alaina and thanked her for her hospitality before following Sterling from the room. Their wives resumed their conversation about the infant girls.
Once in the study, Sterling retrieved two cigars from their cherrywood box, collecting the cutter and matches and a crystal ashtray, carrying all of it over to where Sommerfeld had taken up a seat on the leather-upholstered armchair and propped his leg on its matching ottoman.
“May I offer you a brandy or scotch as well?”
Sommerfeld shook his head. “No, thank you.” He concentrated on the glowing tip of his cigar, filling the room with its rich, thick odor. “But do not feel as if you can’t enjoy a drink. By all means, man.”
Sterling chuckled and waved it off as he sat back in his own chair.
Several minutes of companionable silence passed before Sommerfeld next spoke. “Pardon me for the observation, but I take it the wooing must be going well; it doesn’t seem like Her Grace wanted to draw blood when you came upon us in the drawing room.”
Sterling exhaled the truth in an aromatic cloud of the rich tobacco. “It’s actually going quite terribly.” He smiled despite his words. “No doubt you heard about the scene at the last meeting of their bloody Reading Society.”
Sommerfeld had the good grace to cringe. “I had, but I’d been trying to avoid mentioning it.”
Sterling took the opportunity to give his account of the meeting—omitting only how arousing he’d found Alaina’s defiant performance. Sommerfeld responded by laughing in appreciation of her cunning.
“She shows no mercy, does she?” the viscount chuckled.
Sterling shook his head in amused resignation. “It is a good thing I’m an infinitely patient man.”
He’d waited eight years; he could wait a bit longer.
And he instinctively knew it would be well worth it.
Meanwhile, back inthe drawing room, Lady Sommerfeld took her own chance to ask Alaina what had happened following the incident at the last Society meeting.
“I was more than a little surprised when Miss Finchley told me you’d both attended her family’s ball.Together.” Lady Sommerfeld arched a cinnamon-colored brow and took a sip of her tea.
“As you can see, I’m quite alive and well…as is the duke.”
“Well that much is obvious,” Lady Sommerfeld said with a roll of her eyes. “The duke seemed bent upon murder—a stark contrast to today’s more amorous presentation.”
