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“What other reason could Elizabeth have had to make love with me?” Sterling reasoned.
“Perhaps because she returned your desire? Because she had fallen in love with you too?”
“She had only known me for a few days.”
“You had only knownherfor the same amount of time, and yet you have said you are in love with her.”
“I am.” He sighed. “Deeply. Irrevocably.”
Melborne gave a shake of his head. “There is a name for men like you.”
He winced. “Bastard?”
“No.”
“Opportunist?”
“I am certain the word you are searching for is idiot,” Melborne drawled.
“What!” Sterling glared at his friend. “I have bared my soul to you in a way I have never done before with anyone, and the only thing you can do in return is to call me an idiot?”
“Because that is what you have behaved as,” Melborne confirmed without apology. “Do not feel too bad about it. I have discovered that we men all behave in a completely idiotic manner once we have found the woman we truly care for. Look at Flint and myself.” He gave a self-derisive shake of his head. “We both behaved appallingly toward the women with whom wefell in love. Thank God Grace and Chastity saw fit to forgive us for our stupidity and married us.”
Sterling dropped into the chair in front of the desk. “There is no chance of that happening between myself and Elizabeth.”
More’s the pity.
Because Sterling had not only fallen in love with Elizabeth in the short time the two of them had been together, but another part of his heart had cracked wide open the night he held young Christopher in his arms as they sat in vigil at his mother’s bedside. Christopher had felt so small and warm as he nestled against Sterling’s chest, so innocent as he put his complete trust in Sterling to protect and take care of both him and his mother.
He had never known anything like those overwhelming feelings of protectiveness and affection brought about by Christopher’s complete trust of him.
What did Christopher think of him now?
What didElizabeththink of him now?
Sterling threw the brandy in his glass to the back of his throat, welcoming the burning sensation that followed. “I have to apologize for my behavior,” he stated vehemently. “To explain to her why I behaved in that way. To tell her that I never meant to insult or hurt her. That I am in love with her.”
Melborne refilled their brandy glasses. “I believe you will need to find her first in order for you to be able to say any of that.”
“Find whom?” Grace Montrose, the Duchess of Melborne, breezed into the study, crossing the room to kiss her husband warmly on the lips. Her small dog, Finn, had followed her into the room and was now making himself comfortable on the hearth between Melborne’s two Irish wolfhounds. The duchess turned to look at Sterling. “I was told you were in Cornwall on another of these discovering-who-was-responsible-for-killing-Plymouth missions being carried out by each of the Ruthless Dukes?”
It didn’t surprise Sterling in the least that Melborne had confided in his wife with regard to their actions. Melborne now knew better than to keep secrets from his duchess. “I was,” he acknowledged morosely.
The duchess, a beautiful auburn-haired lady with warm green eyes, tilted her head in query. “Have you returned because you have found the murderer?”
“No.”
“He has found something much more worrisome to any man,” Melborne drawled. “Love,” he added dryly as he resumed his seat behind the desk and pulled his wife down with him so that she was seated sideways upon his thighs.
“Your sarcastic sense of humor has not improved these past weeks, despite all my efforts,” she admonished.
Melborne grinned. “But you love me anyway.”
“I do.” The couple shared a smile of deep intimacy before the duchess once again turned to Sterling. “Lord Thomas Marshall was not to blame for your friend’s death?”
“He never got as far as broaching the subject with Marshall’s widow.” Melborne’s humor, at Sterling’s expense, was very obvious. “He was far too busy admiring that lady’s violet-colored eyes and falling in love with her.”
“You are a mocking bastard, Melborne.” Sterling spoke without rancor.
