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Elizabeth breathed in deeply. “That is very warming to know.”
“It is the truth.”
Her lips tilted into a rueful half smile. “I have a feeling you rarely speak otherwise.”
Unless he was on a secret mission to discover who had killed his friend Plymouth.
Sterling scowled darkly at the thought of Elizabeth’s reaction to knowing that. “Does the earl’s displeasure with you ever include physical chastisement?”
She avoided meeting his gaze. “I cannot talk to you of such things, Your Grace.”
“You will—” Sterling ceased speaking as, having grasped hold of one of Elizabeth’s arms, she gave a pained gasp. He instantly released her before demanding, “Elizabeth?”
She kept her eyes averted. “The earl has extremely bony fingers that I am sure he has no idea leave a bruise or two on my skin after he has grabbed my arm. As he did earlier today.”
Sterling now knew why Elizabeth had chosen to wear a long-sleeved gown even though summer fashion dictated otherwise. “Why did he have hold of you in the first place?” Whitlow didn’t strike him as a man who would ever offer physical touch as a comfort.
Her smile was dismissive. “I believe it had something to do with him insisting I wear a low-necked gown this evening so you could ‘ogle my titties’ if you ‘felt so inclined,’” she added bleakly.
“And yet you chose to do the opposite.” The gown she was wearing was buttoned up to the throat
“Yes.”
“For which you will pay the price?”
“No doubt.”
“And yet you did it anyway.”
Elizabeth lifted her head, the expression in her eyes one of resignation. “I cannot live my life in a constant state of fear that something I do or say might incur the earl’s displeasure. Not when in the past he has been known to find fault even with the way I breathe. Or possibly that I am breathing at all when his son and heir no longer is,” she added heavily.
“He has said as much to you?”
“That, and much more.”
“Elizabeth—”
“I believe it is time we joined the earl in the library,” she cut in lightly.
“We have not yet eaten dessert,” he reminded.
“Perhaps not, but I believe we have both partaken of enough forbidden delight for this evening.” A blush colored her cheeks.
Sterling’s jaw tightened. “I will be…concerned as to your welfare, until I am able to see you again.”
Her gaze became quizzical. “I have survived three and twenty years without your concern, Your Grace.”
“Barely,” he bit out. “And whilst you may continue to address me by my title when we are in the company of others, I insist you call me Sterling when we are alone.”
“You insist?” she teased.
“I do, yes—” He broke off and turned toward the door as it was thrown open noisily.
From the flush evident on the earl’s cheeks, he had imbibed far too much of Sterling’s brandy. Or—heaven forbid—the flush was of a much more carnal nature and the man was aroused after perusing the drawings in the Kama Sutra.
“Time we were leaving, daughter-in-law,” the earl stated without preamble. “You will dine with us sometime this week, Bristol?” he added as he seemed to remember his manners toward his host.
“Tomorrow evening suits me.” Sterling’s deliberately autocratic tone brooked no objection.
