Page 9 of Courting the Duchess (Spy Society #1)

T he 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.

He was 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.

“Are you trying to kill me?” she demanded with a cough.

“Kill you?” his voice rose. “I always brought roses whenever I called upon you.”

“Well, I am horribly allergic.” She sniffed and wiped ineffectually at her eyes. “Clearly. But Mother insisted it would be rude to refuse them and forbade me to tell you of my condition. And, besides, I don’t even care for roses.”

*

Sterling looked heavenward for strength. God save all well-intentioned men from the subterfuge of marriage-minded mamas.

He ran an exasperated hand through his once-tidy hair and looked back at his wife. It was clear this was no act; her reaction had been so violent and instantaneous. Her eyes were puffy and her elegant nose was red; her voice had adopted a ragged quality as she struggled to be understood around coughs and sneezes. He felt tremendously guilty for having put her through this—and that he didn’t have the pockets for ten more handkerchiefs—but he couldn’t have known. She said so herself. Here, he’d been trying to do something kind with a grand gesture…to woo his wife…and it had ended disastrously.

How appropriate.

“Then what flowers do you like?” he asked gently as he stepped closer and used the pad of his thumb to brush a tear from her cheek. This was the closest they’d been in days. He shouldn’t have enjoyed her nearness when she was in such a pathetic state, but he couldn’t help it. The heat from her body called to him in a primal way. “Ones that won’t cause another crisis, that is,” he added, his voice barely over a gravelly whisper.

Alaina looked up at him and did her best to approximate an eye roll. “I believe the more appropriate question is why you’re only just now asking.” She took several steps backward and dabbed at the cheek he’d touched as if trying to scrub him away. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to splash water on my face.” She turned in a flurry of mint-colored skirts and headed back toward the staircase. Sterling watched her until she disappeared before turning back to the morning room.

After releasing a frustrated growl, Sterling wrenched open the doors. What an unmitigated disaster. He yanked on the bellpull and surveyed the scene, trying not to consider how much money had gone into this farce.

Shortly, several maids poked their heads in through the servants’ doorway, careful not to knock over any of the floral arrangements.

“See that all of this is cleaned up.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the first one bobbed a curtsy. “Where would you like us to take them?”

“I care not,” he snapped, and the little maid jumped. He breathed in air thick with roses before continuing in a more tempered tone. He was frustrated with his failure and ignorance and shouldn’t take it out on others. “Throw them out. Give them to sweethearts or family. Donate them somewhere. Just don’t allow a single rose to remain in this household.”

He didn’t think he was mistaken when he thought he glimpsed both maids attempting to hide knowing smiles behind deferential dipped heads.

Of course , Sterling thought morosely while the roses were slowly whisked away by the armful. The staff would know of his wife’s allergy and her aversion to roses. They were probably having a great laugh below stairs at his expense.

Round one had been a complete and utter failure.

Now, how to move forward and try to win round two?

*

It was nearly half an hour before Alaina recovered enough to request that Penny bring some food to her rooms. She had absolutely no desire to face Sterling anytime soon after the flower debacle.

Her head felt stuffed with lead; her eyes still itched and her nose was clogged, but at least she’d stopped her coughing, sneezing, and wheezing. Any dignity she’d had in her appearance earlier that morning had been destroyed by the incident downstairs. The neckline of her dress was damp from the water she’d splashed on her face and used to rinse her eyes. Her once neat hair had begun to slip from its pins. And she refused to gaze in the looking glass because she knew she’d find a splotchy red complexion with hopelessly swollen eyes. How utterly unattractive. Not only that, but now she’d have to rearrange her schedule and she hated doing that.

She sighed and leaned her head back against the wall of the window seat in her suite. Closing her eyes did nothing to relieve the sensation of abrading sand, so she gave up and pulled her knees to her chest beneath her crossed arms, resting her chin atop them.

She considered the room crammed full of flowers downstairs; the number of bouquets would likely have paid any London florist’s rent for the next several months.

It was all rather ridiculous, really.

And excessive.

And immensely charming, were she to analyze it from an objective standpoint.

If Alaina set aside her feelings, she might be able to admit that Sterling’s gesture had been sweet and entirely unexpected, especially given the frigidity that often filled the space between them since his return. When he’d stood there surrounded by those noxious bushels of roses…

He’d looked so handsome and hopeful. The glint in his eyes would likely have taken her breath away had she not been choked with pollen.

Standing before her had been more than a hint of the man she’d known in her youth. She’d been a girl again, hopelessly close to falling in love with the charming, thoughtful young duke.

Even if his gesture had created such a mess, Alaina had her suspicions about his motivations…and the realization unnerved her. He was making an effort with gestures, trying a new tactic to ingratiate himself.

She sat up and began pulling the remaining pins from her head. She’d likely have to change anyway thanks to the water spotting the front of her gown, so she might as well give Penny a head start with her hair.

She’d just dropped the last pin beside her book on the nearby table when there was a single knock on her door.

“Enter,” she called absently as she ran her fingers through her waist-length locks and shook them free.

She looked up to find Sterling standing in the doorway, watching her with an unwavering intensity in his piercing eyes. Unfortunately, it would seem that Alaina’s peace was to be short-lived.

She was immediately self-conscious, and she dropped her hands from her head and slid her feet to the floor, hastily tugging at her skirts when they got caught beneath her hip. She didn’t miss how her husband’s eyes darted to the length of the stocking-clad calf that had been exposed, if ever so briefly. Her lips pressed into a firm line, hoping he wouldn’t notice the warmth spreading to her cheeks.

“Forgive me,” he murmured, and his eyes met hers once more. “Both for the interruption and for—for the roses.” He rubbed the back of his neck in a charmingly contrite gesture.

She didn’t want to feel a pang of sympathy for him. She really didn’t. But her heart had other ideas when faced with the sincerity in those eyes of his, the endearing tilt to his head that made one chestnut lock fall across his temple. Her fingers itched to brush it back and know if it was as soft as it looked.

Stop it! she chastised herself. What a silly thing to consider. Who cared if the man had hair softer than goose down? She should be the last woman who wanted to touch him.

“Why would you do such a thing?” she asked, pleasantly surprised when her voice wasn’t as hoarse as it had been earlier.

“Isn’t it obvious?” His voice was very near as close to a purr as a man could make. Her toes curled inside of her slippers. “I am wooing you.”

Alaina swore her heart tripped and momentarily forgot its job. So had her tongue. It was several moments before she could even think of speaking.

Sterling explained further, saving her from having to form words of her own. “I intend to woo you, win you over, and make a true wife of you yet, Alaina. Just know that I’ll never force you, but I will wait with bated breath until you decide you are ready to finally be my wife in every sense.”

Alaina’s lips parted as she hung onto his words.

Was it her imagination or did the corner of his mouth twitch as if attempting to smile?

“I think you will find I am an uncommonly determined man, wife.” Sterling’s voice was so low that it made her toes curl. “And I’m not easily scared off. When I set my mind to something, I do not stop until I obtain it. And you, Alaina, are what I want. I want you as my wife. I want you in my bed. I want you beneath me, on top of me, and every other way a man can have a woman.” His words sent an unexpected shaft of heat straight to her core and fairly made her quiver. She had to press her thighs together to ease the throb there. “I want you screaming my name in gratitude instead of anger. I want you as my partner in all things. And I will have it.”

If she’d been stunned before, now she was struck dumb.

Without waiting for a reply, Sterling executed a smart bow and quit the room, leaving Alaina gaping in his wake.

She was still staring when Penny appeared in the open doorway toting the tray with Alaina’s breakfast.

“Is everything alright?” the maid asked with a frown as she set the tray on the table.

“Yes,” Alaina croaked and stood from her window seat. As she spread some blackberry preserves on a slice of toast, she decided that she would not allow Sterling to win. His selfish actions had caused her years of pain, and she refused to allow him to claim a victory so easily.

She had to remind herself to harden her heart against whatever he might throw at her. This was all too little, too late. If he’d ever truly cared, then this belated wooing would never have been necessary.

It mattered not how charming or endearing his efforts were.

Alaina couldn’t allow herself to yield.