Page 3 of Courting the Duchess (Spy Society #1)
T he white-hot flash in Alaina’s remarkable sapphire eyes made Sterling tense as he awaited the stinging slap he undeniably deserved but it never came. Instead, a becoming blush tinged her smooth cheeks, lightly dusted in freckles he didn’t recall ever having graced the downy skin. It appeared his wife had on her strolls and excursions foregone her bonnet more often than not, allowing the sun’s caress to alter her porcelain features with flecks of pale cinnamon. Despite their antithesis to modern beauty standards, he didn’t mind the delicate marks. He found them intriguing as well as enticing because they spoke of a woman who no longer forced herself to adhere to strict standards and who forged her own way. He looked forward to finding out what else about her had changed now that the moment he’d dreamt about for years had finally come.
Alaina retreated a step without removing her stormy gaze from his face, crossing her arms over her bosom once more—a gesture that did not go unappreciated by Sterling. The devil inside him prodded his back with its pitchfork. It stirred to life urges so powerful, his fingers twitched with the need to pull her into his arms despite the evident danger to his person if he committed such an act.
He’d left behind a slightly gangly filly all those years ago, and now a true woman stood before him. Self-assured. Womanly curves in all the right places—all the places he most enjoyed. And the passion, the rage in her eyes…it was enough to set his pulse to simmering.
If he’d known his wife was going to develop into such a stunning beauty, would he have pushed harder to come home? Would he have fought to throw off the weight of his obligations and leave the Continent behind in favor of this woman’s arms? His heart knew the truth of it, though: He’d never forgotten her and regretted their separation, and he’d make sure she believed him if it was the last thing he did.
“The chances of being received with a kiss are nonexistent when one’s husband abandons her within twelve hours of the vows,” Alaina snapped bitingly.
A return trip to the Continent is growing more appealing by the second… Sterling grumbled inwardly.
“It is a pleasure to see you, too, Alaina,” he replied, his voice dripping globs of sarcasm.
“May I ask why you’ve suddenly decided to bless us with your presence, Your Grace?” she returned with equal venom, addressing him with scorn rather than the usual reverence with which he was spoken to. Sterling supposed he did deserve that.
“I thought it was time to return.”
“That moment passed years ago,” Alaina spat, her eyes consumed with blue flame. “It is long dead and buried.”
He realized his once acquiescent wife had developed a flair for the dramatic…though she was probably correct at the heart of it if he viewed their situation objectively.
He’d done innumerable regrettable things these past several years, but none more painful than ducking out of Morton House when he knew she’d been waiting for him in her chambers, likely nervous and shaking in anticipation of their wedding night. Alaina had been a sweet girl and he had genuinely cared for her; she hadn’t deserved to be abandoned like that, but it simply could not have been helped. He’d spent year after year considering how he could have handled it all differently—if trying to speak with her before he took his leave might have made a difference—but to gamble with the possibility of her patience and understanding after he’d already convinced her to give him her trust and her future wasn’t something he had been prepared to face. For better or for worse, his younger mind had been made up and now it was time to face the consequences of his rashness.
Home once more, Sterling could only hope his decisions hadn’t destroyed their marriage beyond repair. Gazing down at Alaina just then made him wonder if that selfish hope wasn’t completely in vain.
They were stuck together, after all. He agreed with the belief that marriage wasn’t intended to be fickle or temporary, contrary to what his past actions may have indicated. A good place to start would be an apology…so he may as well give it a go.
He’d had weeks to consider what he might say—how this return might be received. Thus far, it had been quite the disaster. Not only had there been an audience to his homecoming, but it was evident that his wife held more rancor in her soul for him than he’d anticipated. He was making quite the hash of things, and, if he had any hope of righting his wrongs, he needed to put in more of an effort.
“Alaina…” He softened his tone and hoped his eyes would convey the sincerity he harbored in his soul; “I realize this is long overdue. And I understand how my unannounced return is likely quite the shock. But please believe me when I say I am sorry for leaving—”
“Abandoning,” she corrected him in a clipped tone.
He nodded once in concession.
“For abandoning you on our wedding night—”
“And for the eight years following,” she interrupted once more.
Sterling had to take a slow, bracing breath through his nose.
“Yes,” he ground out. “And the eight years after.” His words were genuine, but he wasn’t a man used to apologizing…let alone being handheld to it like a child.
“Without an explanation,” she added with narrowed eyes.
“Enough!” It was Sterling’s turn to snap, and Alaina’s lips formed a tight, unhappy line in response. He heaved a breath and resumed more gently. “I am sincerely sorry, Alaina. What I did was the worst sort of rotten…but did you ever stop to think that I might have had a reason?” This last seemed to set her off anew, the tension snapping through her body and charging the air.
“Did you find me repugnant?” she demanded. “Did the thought of bedding me make you ill?”
Sterling shook his head vehemently, taken aback by her bald words. To say he had always been attracted to his English rose of a wife was an understatement; for her to have assumed otherwise made a place deep within his chest ache.
“Certainly not!” he said, staunchly denying her accusations. If only she knew how he’d felt the first time they’d been introduced, how he’d been taken in by her striking eyes and broad smile, how her sharp wit and easy laughter had captivated him from the very beginning, then she’d not have questioned him. If she knew how often he’d pleasured himself to the memory of her lips and taste, imagining what it might have been like to share more with her, then that certainly would not have been the case.
“Then…were you…unable to perform?” Alaina shot a pointed look to the area below his waistcoat.
If her earlier question had caught him off guard, this one shocked him. His cheeks heated even though he was well past the age of being embarrassed.
And where did his wife get off making such a crude comment?
What sort of company had she been keeping where she was aware of such things?
“Of course not!” he spluttered, unaccustomed to being made to feel even somewhat flustered. By anyone. One of the perks of being a duke, he supposed.
“Then why ? What could have made you leave me, a scared girl alone, waiting up for hours for her husband to come to her bed for the first time? Not to mention subjecting me to the jeers and whispers I was forced to endure after your abandonment. I was the duchess who couldn’t keep her duke…” This was the first time her voice wavered; her eyes left his face to find a point beyond his left shoulder. He watched intently as Alaina’s slender throat worked while she fought to maintain her composure. It didn’t take her long, and he found he admired her bravery as she met his gaze again. This was no girl staring down her estranged husband and stomping a petulant foot, but a woman of her own mind. She was a lioness with teeth and claws and a spirit honed by years of battle.
Battles, much to his everlasting regret, he’d left her to weather alone.
“For over a year, not a week went by when my name wasn’t bandied about by the tabloids,” Alaina forged on, though the admission was mortifyingly painful. Her mind spun with the millions of things she’d wanted to say to him over the years, each warring for supremacy and slowing her tongue. She had to begin somewhere, so why not with the ways in which she’d suffered in his absence? “I was unable to attend any events for the shame of it and, when I finally did, the whispers were unbearable.”
Everyone had wondered what was wrong with her or claimed she was a fool for believing a duke that young and well-off would truly be ready to settle down, but Alaina kept that last part to herself. She wasn’t convinced the man standing before her wouldn’t take perverse pleasure in the fact that many speculated she was to blame for his flight from the country. The truth was, she didn’t know him; he’d been her husband only in name for nearly a decade, but he was a relative stranger to her. She eyed the changes in his features once again and realized this was truer now than even when they’d first wed. Time changed people.
And the same could be said about her, she supposed. Her husband knew little to nothing about who she was now—about her life and her passions. About how she’d been forced to retreat into herself until she’d uncovered a stronger part of her soul that could withstand the gossip long enough to find true companions amongst the hidden thorns in the garden of the ton . That had been one of the greatest catalysts to the creation of her Reading Society.
Over time, Alaina realized that there were other women in her world equally in need of a place where they wouldn’t be judged—where no one cared if you were married and to whom. They were like-minded friends who had helped her cultivate a haven in which they might expand their horizons and experience honest companionship; how they could come together to pool their resources and make a difference for whatever cause they felt most necessary—be it charities, schools, feminine rights, or foundlings. As she eyed the man standing before her, she decided that he’d likely never even considered such struggles existed for anyone. If he had, then he wouldn’t have left her to fend for herself for so long.
It was entirely possible he’d never thought of anyone beyond himself and any ounce of empathy or kindness she’d witnessed during their courtship was naught more than a carefully calculated facade. It stung to think that he’d plied her with lies and pretty words, and, not for the first time, she berated her younger self for being so foolish.
“Then why?” she demanded evenly. “Pray, what is the real reason you ran away? Surely you should be able to tell me this now though you never deigned to send a single line in a letter explaining yourself?”
Several tense heartbeats passed before her husband finally responded. “Just know that I had to go…and that I hope you will eventually find it within you to forgive me for any pain it may have caused you.”
Alaina’s mouth gaped in disbelief. Even after all these years, the man couldn’t justify his actions. The least he could do was put some effort into his explanation, but it appeared she wasn’t worth even that much to him. She scoffed and shook her head disbelievingly, propping her fists on her hips. It wasn’t what her hands itched to do, but it was better than swinging from the gallows for mariticide.
She heaved as deep a bracing breath as her stays would allow. “If that is all, please excuse me, Your Grace. I now have a supper to plan in honor of your glorious homecoming.” She bobbed a sarcastic curtsy and brushed past Sterling, not allowing him to naysay her or further fill her ears with hollow platitudes and embarrassingly meaningless apologies.
She needed space.
She needed to breathe, as the world she’d so carefully curated began to crack and crumble around her.
Sterling turned to watch his wife’s ramrod-straight spine as she trudged down the hallway with impressive speed and determination. He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling every one of the miles he’d traveled these past several weeks.
Well, that had gone nearly as poorly as possible. The only thing worse might have been physical violence against him.
Sterling swore he wasn’t a volatile man—despite the evidence of this first encounter with his wife in nearly a decade. He’d never been a lad who threw punches at school. He’d been known for a temperate disposition at university. However, something about the stress and nervous excitement about finally returning home to England—and to Alaina—had created a roiling tempest of frustration and anxiety the likes of which he’d never experienced. It had made him into a man he didn’t like and he already regretted it.
He didn’t know what he’d been anticipating upon his return. He wasn’t foolish enough to have hoped Alaina would throw her arms around his neck and wrap her grateful body around his. He wasn’t a returning hero—to Alaina, he was the villain in her story…and he couldn’t blame her for her perspective.
“Your Grace?”
Sterling turned to find his aging butler standing at attention a respectable distance away. Though the man’s countenance remained stoic, he didn’t doubt that the servant (and likely many others) had overheard their row. Maxwell had known Sterling his entire life, working his way up from footman to under butler and then butler of the London residence. Even if Sterling’s marriage had gone up in smoke, something was reassuring about the older man’s familiar face there to help him find his footing after he’d been set on his ear.
“Will your luggage be arriving later this evening?”
“Yes, Maxwell. My valet will be arriving from the docks in short order. Please see that Allan is shown around and introduced to the staff.” He’d written ahead and had a valet hired from a service as part of his preparations for his return to English soil. He’d briefly met the middle-aged valet upon disembarking and, unable to wait any longer, left Allan to oversee the unloading of his belongings so he might return home and to his wife more quickly. And now Sterling felt as if one of those trunks had been placed squarely on his chest.
He spared a glance down the hallway where his wife had retreated but thought better of his impulse to seek her out and set things on a better path. Tracking her down now would surely only unleash more wrath from the lioness, and he was wise enough now to know that trying to force her acceptance of his return could prove disastrous. Instead, he made his way to the grand curved staircase.
“I’ve a mind to freshen up. Have a bath drawn if you would.” Maybe he’d feel better after washing away the salt air and grime of travel. He’d spent weeks on ships, in carriages, and on horseback traversing the seemingly endless distance between Italy and Spain, weathering both the sweltering sun and bone chilling rain, stopping very little to rest, driven ceaselessly by the image of his wife at the end of his journey. Even if a bath didn’t revive him entirely, at the very least he’d be able to refresh himself for another round with Alaina.
“Very good, Your Grace,” the butler said with a bow as he quit the room.
Sterling stood in silence for several minutes, simply absorbing the fact that he was home . Seeing the English shoreline had released a deep-seated knot in his chest. Riding through the streets had unleashed a wave of nostalgia. But Morton House with its familiar rooms was the place he knew as home.
And he was determined to finally make a future with its mistress.
*
It was all Alaina could do not to slam the heavy door to her bedchamber.
That man.
That infuriating, fickle, boorish, unfairly handsome man !
Alaina had long since come to terms with her sham of a marriage. Oh, to be sure, it had taken many tears and a great deal of time for her to reach a place of acceptance, but that did not mean she would be grateful for the man to return out of the blue—that she would fall to her knees and kiss his dusty boots in gratitude for his presence. She was no fool. She recognized that life as she had known it…as she had made it to be…these last eight years was as good as over.
And it was all Sterling’s fault.
She didn’t doubt that he’d attempt to take her in hand. For all she knew, he’d try to mold her to his needs, stuff her back into the tiny little box he’d supposedly found attractive enough to wed all those years ago. Alaina had fought too hard against her training and society’s dictates to allow that to happen…but she had the distinct suspicion Sterling, too, would do everything he could to see his own goals through.
She stomped over to the immaculately made bed and proceeded to unleash her wrath upon an unfortunate pillow. She pummeled it until her hands ached and she collapsed upon it, face-first, to release a muffled wail of frustration.
Why now?
Why did he suddenly have to reappear and throw everything topsy-turvy?
She’d finally found peace and happiness in her own life and, once again, Sterling would toss all her good intentions to the flames of his whims. It wasn’t the least bit fair.
Then again, Alaina had learned that fairness wasn’t often in the cards.
Not for women.
A fair life would have meant her husband had cared enough not to abandon her to the wolves.
A fair life would have meant her husband would have stayed to protect her and honor their vows.
There was a light scratch at her bedchamber door. She bid the person to enter, but it came out more like, “Mmmurfferr”, against the smothering feather pillow.
“Well, aren’t you a sight?” came her maid’s cheeky tone as she slipped into the room.
Alaina lifted her head; golden ringlets had come loose and cascaded into her field of vision. “Please not now, Penny. I haven’t the strength.”
Only a few years older than Alaina, her maid, Penelope, had become one of her closest confidants in those early months of her marriage-turned-abandonment. When she’d been too ashamed to leave her home or accept callers, too dejected to eat and too restless to sleep, the maid had stepped in to be sure Alaina took enough sustenance and cheered her with stories of her childhood on her grandparents’ farm just south of the city. Penny had faithfully stayed with Alaina during the seclusion of her farce of a honeymoon and comforted her when even Alaina’s own family was unsure how to handle the embarrassment of the situation. The Earl and Countess of Brendt were known for their strict adherence to social propriety, but their daughter’s situation was unprecedented. What man disappeared on the wedding night without consummation? It was decided—rather, they decided for her—that the date of the duke’s departure would remain a closely guarded secret. If anyone asked, Alaina was the true wife of the Duke of Morton.
And they’d promptly treated her as such…leaving Alaina to find her way without the guidance of her husband.
This relative abandonment by her parents also meant young Alaina desperately needed a confidant. A companion.
Enter Penny.
While the line between master and servant remained, it had been blurred enough that Penny felt comfortable enough to poke at Alaina’s occasional dramatics. Only, this time, Alaina wasn’t so sure her behavior was all that unwarranted.
The maid’s sandy brows rose as she bustled through the room, gathering things to prepare Alaina for dinner. “I suppose you’d rather dine alone than with His Grace, then?” Despite her words, she didn’t stop her preparations.
Alaina released a definitively unladylike snort. She’d rather chew off her arm than face Sterling again so soon.
But she’d been raised properly, and her good breeding wouldn’t allow her to ignore her husband’s homecoming…no matter how unwelcome his presence was. Besides, as much as it galled her, this house did belong to him.
“I’d give anything for it to be this morning again,” Alaina sighed and righted herself, tucking her wayward curls behind her ears.
“Is everything so different, then?” Penny asked as she retrieved Alaina’s cornflower blue dinner gown and held it aloft for approval. Alaina nodded. The gown was one of her favorites and she knew she’d need every bit of armor she could if she was to survive this meal.
“How could it not be?” Alaina groaned. “We’ve an intruder in our household. Everything is about to change.” She pushed herself to her feet and plodded over to her dressing table. Dropping down to the stool with a huff, she proceeded to remove the pins from her hair so Penny could redo her unruly coiffure.
There was no mistaking the maid’s jocularity when next she spoke. “I could be mistaken, but isn’t this actually the duke’s household?” Leave it to Penny to voice Alaina’s earlier thoughts.
Alaina’s unamused gaze met her maid’s in the mirror as she began to unlace her dress. Doubtless, the servants were atwitter about Sterling’s return. They’d all been without a lord for so long, it was natural for this drastic change to cause a stir. In Sterling’s absence, Alaina had found her footing in running the household, and she liked to think everyone got along quite well; however, the dynamic would be inevitably different with a lord in residence.
“We’ve all managed just fine without His Grace. I don’t see why a good thing must come to an end,” Alaina grumbled, knowing full well how childish the comment sounded, but she was past the point of caring.
The maid tilted her head in understanding, but the wry twist to her lips told Alaina that Penny hadn’t been entirely convinced.
Alaina rose and allowed Penny to finish undressing her. As she stood in her shift and drawers, a thud sounded on the other side of the wall. Her head whipped around to the adjoining door to Sterling’s suite of rooms and her heart leaped into her throat. She’d never before heard noises from that room and it was more than a little unnerving—as if a spirit was just now making its presence known. In a way, she supposed it had. The discarded bones of her marriage were even now rattling, demanding her attention.
Though she could not hear what was being said, she could make out the low rumble of masculine voices as words were exchanged, likely between Sterling and one of the servants. She supposed she’d have to grow used to sharing space with him, whether she cared to or not. Penny was right. This was technically Sterling’s home. Everything within it was his. Even she was his, according to the letter of the law. How nauseating that a system could afford a man the right to abandon his wife for years and still be allowed to hold all the power. Her soul railed at the unfairness of it all.
There she went again about fairness…
There was a rustle of silk as Penny held up the gown for her; the sound broke the spell the adjoining door seemed to have upon Alaina’s attention. She stepped into the dress and laced her into the garment. Tiny seed pearls and glass beads caught the flickering lamplight in dancing fractals of glitter. She examined her reflection, gradually gaining confidence as her appearance came together.
Her earlier meeting with the housekeeper, Mrs. Frank, and Cook had started poorly. Alaina’s temper had been boiling over and, unused to seeing her quite so flustered, her staff hadn’t quite known how to handle it. To their credit, despite some fits and starts, they took her churlishness in stride.
Did she want to have a special supper for the duke?
We can’t not have supper. We must eat, regardless.
Would she prefer it to be served on the fine china?
It seems rather excessive to do so for two people. (Plus she didn’t trust herself to not throw a few of the plates and/or utensils at some point during the meal.)
Were there preferences on what should be served?
This inquiry had given her pause. She realized that neither the housekeeper nor the cook had been in residence when Sterling was last in residence at Morton House.
At last. Inspiration struck her.
Peas. Lots of them. Pea soup. Mashed peas. Pea pudding—if there is such a thing.
No one could ever accuse her of knowing nothing about her husband.
“Glad to see something has made you smile.” Penny grinned as she tucked and pinned the last curl into place and met Alaina’s eyes in the mirror.
She hadn’t realized her expression had altered as she’d pondered her supper plans. She ignored the comment and, instead, thanked the maid when she brought out Alaina’s pearls.
Donning her last bit of armor, Alaina made one final assessment and enjoyed a final cleansing breath.
It was time to face her husband.
And this time she was better prepared.