“As it is only a few doors from mine, it will be no trouble at all.” He offered her his arm, and they walked off the dance floor. He glanced around. “I don’t see my mother, so I assume she has already retired.” They started for the corridor. “Josiah, however, doesn’t look at all pleased to see us leaving together.”
“We should bid him good evening. I wouldn’t want him to think . . .”
“To think what?”
“Anything he shouldn’t,” she said quickly. They approached the young man. “Josiah, I fear I am quite done in, so I shall take my leave and retire for the night.”
“Yes, of course.” Josiah’s considering gaze slipped from her to Sterling and back.
“Lord Wyldewood has been good enough to offer to escort me to my cabin,” she said in an offhand manner as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about Sterling accompanying her to her cabin, After all, it wasn’t the first time he had done so. Why then did she have the oddest tremulous feeling in the pit of her stomach?
“I think I shall remain here a bit longer,” the solicitor said coolly. And why wouldn’t he be cool toward her? She had turned down his proposal and was now leaving with another man.
“I shall see you tomorrow then.” Olivia cast him a friendly, but not too friendly, smile.
Sterling leaned toward the younger man and lowered his voice. “I believe Miss Johnson might be amenable to a dance.”
Josiah’s gaze flicked to the pretty American, and his expression brightened. “Yes, well, perhaps she would.”
They bid him good evening and started toward their cabins.
“That was very nice of you,” she said. “I do hope he likes Miss Johnson.”
“There’s nothing not to like.” Sterling smiled. “If one is only twenty-two.” He paused. “Did you consider his proposal at all?”
“Don’t be absurd.” She scoffed. “He’s scarcely more than a boy.”
“Would you have considered it if he were older then?”
“No,” she said firmly. “I do not plan to marry again.”
“But if we are not successful . . .”
“We will succeed. There isn’t a doubt in my mind,” she lied. There were a great many doubts about their eventual success or failure, she simply preferred not to think about them. They reached her door, and he released her arm.
“I see.” He studied her for a long moment. “I would not want to dash your hopes by being too practical, but the fact of the matter is—”
“I know full well the facts of the matter.” She shrugged. “It does me no good to consider the possibility of failure; therefore, I prefer not to do so.”
“You’re right of course.” He smiled. “It’s best not to get ahead of ourselves. We shall take every step as it presents itself.”
She drew a deep breath. “The steward leaves a small decanter of sherry in my cabin every night. Would you care to join me for a glass?”
“I should like nothing better.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “But I fear I have kept you entirely too long already.”
“Oh.” She ignored yet another twinge of disappointment. Good Lord, she would never seduce him if he insisted on being so blasted thoughtful. Although he still held her hand, which seemed a good sign.
“Besides, the steward leaves a decanter of brandy in my cabin.” He grinned. “And I have to admit while I have never been overly fond of sherry, I do appreciate a good brandy.”
“Perhaps I should join you then,” she said boldly.
“I would like nothing better,” he said, but released her hand. “But I fear that would be most improper.”
She lifted her shoulder in a casual shrug. “I am not concerned with propriety.”
“Then one of us should be.” He chuckled. “Good evening, Olivia.” He turned to leave.
She sighed. “Good evening, Sterling.”
“Oh, by the way.” He glanced back at her. “The look in your eye a moment ago?” He grinned. “Most flirtatious.” His grin widened, he nodded and headed down the corridor.
She quickly slipped into her room. The last thing she wanted was for him to catch her staring after him like . . . like . . . like a smitten eighteen-year-old girl. Which she wasn’t. Perhaps once, but no longer. She had changed too much to let a few moments that might have recalled long-dead feelings mean anything. She wanted him in her bed, and that was all. Once that had been accomplished, that would be the end of it, and she would have crossed off one item on her list. And he would be out of her blood, and hopefully her dreams, once and for all.
Seducing him was obviously going to be more difficult than she had expected. Sterling was living up to his promise to be her friend and nothing more. But since then, he had become so much the man she remembered, the man she had loved. Damnation, he was maddening and so bloody charming she wanted to wring his neck. And it was most irritating that she was not the only woman on board who had noticed his charm. Not that it mattered to her. Not at all.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what might encourage Miss Johnson to turn her attentions away from a dashing earl and toward a handsome young solicitor closer to her own age, with excellent prospects.
Eleven
It was all going remarkably well. Sterling puffed a cigar on the terrace of Shepheard’s Hotel in Cairo and resisted to urge to smirk. It wasn’t easy. But by the time they returned to London, Livy would once again be his. Forever. Reason enough to smirk with satisfaction.
Since that day on the packet when he had vowed to be patient and pleasant, charming and a perfect traveling companion he had done exactly that and had succeeded admirably. It had been easier than he had expected. After all, he had nothing else to occupy his time. No demands on his attention, no correspondence needing a response, no problems to resolve. While initially he had experienced a certain restlessness at his unaccustomed idleness, it had passed quickly.
He knew any number of men who lived lives dedicated to nothing but idle pleasure, able because of wealth and family position to do little of any consequence save enjoy themselves. He’d always viewed them with a certain disdain and seen himself as superior in a moral sense. For the first time he could appreciate the merits of a life dedicated to nothing but fun and frolic. Not that he had any intention of adopting this carefree existence permanently, but, for the moment, he could not merely bear it but take pleasure in it. Oddly enough, he was finding the more he accepted and enjoyed his enforced holiday, the easier it was to enjoy.
Not that some portions of their journey hadn’t presented a challenge to his newfound determination to appreciate this adventure. Their ship had docked in Alexandria and from there they had taken the train to Cairo. Hot, dusty, and crowded, even with first-class passage, the accommodations were nowhere near pleasant. Still, a certain amount of discomfort was no doubt part and parcel of adventure.
As were new experiences. He surveyed the street that stretched before the hotel and chuckled. He never would have imagined himself here. Cairo was an intriguing blend of old and ancient. In the distance, one could even faintly see the pyramids, ever-present specters of another time. Shepheard’s was reputed to be the best hotel in Egypt, and from its terrace, one could watch the lifeblood of the city flow by. The streets of Cairo were crowded with natives, tourists, merchants, military officers, and Europeans here to represent their own countries in some manner. And filled as well with entertainers: musicians and dancers, jugglers and storytellers, and God help him, snake charmers. He had not seen one perform, nor did he wish to. But he had noted the reptile handlers making their way through the streets carrying their distinctive round baskets. He knew full well what those baskets contained, and whenever he caught sight of a snake charmer, Sterling kept his gaze firmly on the man’s basket. As a precaution in the event of a snake escape. It seemed only wise and prudent to do so.
Still, Sterling refused to allow the ever-present threat of snake encounters to dissuade him from his new determination to enjoy whatever c
ame his way. He blew a perfect smoke ring out into the street. Would that his brothers could see him now. Stiff and staid and dull. Hah! If nothing else came of this, he would at least understand them somewhat better.
Livy seemed both appreciative of his manner and skeptical. On more than one occasion he caught her studying him as if he were a puzzle she was trying to solve. He grinned. He liked that. Often, Livy’s assessment came the morning after he had had politely refused to join her in her room for one reason or another. Either he was invited to join her for a sherry or to look at the train schedule or one of his mother’s tourist guides. He had come up with one perfectly proper excuse after another even though he would like nothing better than to be alone with her behind closed doors. He reminded himself that patience was a virtue even if it felt more like a vise squeezing the very life out of him. He was not a patient man. Nor was he about to let her know that every time he said good night quite properly at her door, each moment when she gazed into his eyes as if she did indeed wish to be kissed, and he restrained himself, he ached for her. In his body and his soul.
Regardless, it didn’t seem wise to be completely alone and in compromising circumstances with a woman who might well have been plotting revenge for a decade. Not that he truly thought she had, but they had both been changed by years and circumstances, and he could not be entirely certain. After all, she had admitted she had never forgiven him, which was an obstacle he did not yet know how to overcome. But he would.
She was determined to get him into her room, and he didn’t know why. With any other woman, he might assume she wished to ravage him. He grinned at the thought. He wouldn’t at all mind being ravaged, especially by Livy, although it had been some time since he’d been ravaged by anyone at all. When he considered it, while celibate would not be an entirely accurate description of his life, it would not be far from wrong either. There had been the occasional actress or dancer or widow at a house party he’d been forced into attending as a social necessity. Indeed, any social event not deemed prudent to attend by his mother was to be avoided. Now he wondered why. When had he become so, well, dull? He distinctly recalled once having loved balls and soirees and masquerades. When had he changed?
Still, he wasn’t the same man he had been at the beginning of this venture. And it seemed the more he became the man he used to be, the more she became be the girl she once was. She was as much unlike the woman who had told him to get out of her life as he was the man who had installed his own men in her household. He wondered who they would ultimately be once this adventure had ended.
Josiah stepped out onto the terrace from the hotel and Sterling signaled to the young man to join him at his table. Josiah was doing an excellent job managing the details of their travel. He handled the passports, tickets, and, when the hotel had tried to give them inferior lodgings, had taken care of that as well.
Josiah took a chair at Sterling’s table, hesitated, then accepted the cigar Sterling offered and lit it.
“So, did you receive a response from Sir Lawrence?” Almost immediately upon their arrival at the hotel, Sterling had sent Josiah to Sir Lawrence’s residence with a note requesting a meeting regarding an artifact in his possession.
“Indeed I did, sir.” Josiah pulled a folded note from his coat pocket and passed it to Sterling. “He read your letter while I was present and seemed, well, amused.”
“ ‘Amused’?” Sterling raised a brow. “Not exactly the reaction I expected.” He unfolded the note and scanned it. “He has invited our party to join him for dinner.” He addressed his words to the solicitor but continued to read. “Apparently, he knew my father. Which, I suppose, is not surprising given Father’s lifelong interest in ancient artifacts and his involvement in the Antiquities Society.”
Josiah puffed on his cigar. “Do you think that will help our cause, sir?”
Sterling smiled to himself. It was most interesting that Livy’s quest had now become our cause. “That depends on whether he liked my father or not, although most of the scholars and antiquity hunters he befriended did appear to like him.” He finished the note and set it on the table. “We shall find out soon enough.”
“Do you think he’ll give us the jar?”
“I don’t think he’ll give us anything save an interesting evening.” Sterling considered the question. “I am still not sure how to approach him about relinquishing the jar, but I suspect Lady Rathbourne has some ideas on that score. It is, after all, her quest. The rest of us are here simply to provide assistance, legal counsel, the appearance of propriety, and, in my case”—he chuckled—“funding.”
Josiah tapped his cigar thoughtfully. “You do realize if we fail here, her attempts to meet the stipulations of her husband’s will are at an end.”
Sterling nodded.
“I think I should warn you, sir.” The young solicitor squared his shoulders. “I fully intend to pursue Lady Rathbourne’s affections.”
“Do you now?”
“I do indeed.” He paused. “I have already offered to marry her if her efforts prove unsuccessful.”
“And did she accept?”
“Not exactly. But she did agree not to give me a final answer until this is at an end,” he added quickly.
“I see.”
Josiah studied him cautiously. “Doesn’t that concern you?”
Sterling blew a long stream of smoke. “Why should that concern me?”
“I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“I look at her in the same manner I do any beautiful woman.”
“Do you, sir?” A skeptical note sounded in the young man’s voice.
“You must admit, she is a very desirable woman.”
“Yes, sir, very desirable. She is beautiful and kind as well.” A dreamy look appeared in the younger man’s eyes. “And intelligent and clever and amusing and determined. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with the strength of character that she has.”
Damnation. It was worse than he had thought. Josiah was clearly head over heels for Livy. Sterling chose his words with care. “Do you think a woman like that would be willing to marry simply because she has no other choice?”
“I can’t say, sir.” He heaved a heartfelt sigh. “I only know I would not have a chance with her otherwise.”
“Have you considered that you might be somewhat young for her?”
“I don’t think age is a concern when it comes to affection,” Josiah said staunchly.
“I see.” He studied the younger man. “Then you are in love with her.”
Josiah nodded. “I am.”
“And does she return your feelings?”
“Not yet.” A reluctant note sounded in his voice. “But I am determined to change that.”
“As are we all, Mr. Cadwallender.” Sterling drew on his cigar. “Tell me, Josiah, do you know anything of her life with Rathbourne?”
“No, sir.” He shook his head. “But I have my suspicions.”
“Based on?”
“Nothing more really than my assessment of the man himself. She has not seen fit to confide in me.” His eyes darkened with suppressed anger. “I can only hope my suspicions of her treatment at his hands are false.”
“I daresay my suspicions are similar.” Sterling paused for a long moment. “It’s my fault she married him you know.”
Josiah’s eyes widened. “Your fault? I don’t understand.”
“Olivia and I were to be married when her father informed me she had decided to marry Rathbourne, and she wished not to have anything further to do with me.” Sterling forced a casual note to his voice. “It was a lie.”
“Good Lord. How did you find out?”
“Her father told me the truth after Rathbourne died.” He drew a deep breath. “She thought I had abandoned her, failed her. She has not forgiven me.” Even now, the truth was hard to admit. This was no misunderstanding on her part. Nothing that could be swept away with a simple explanation. He had indeed abandoned and failed her. He
tapped his cigar into a conveniently placed saucer. “I will not fail her again.”
Josiah’s jaw hardened with resolve. “Nor shall I.”
“There’s something else you should know. You’re correct in your assessment of my feelings regarding Lady Rathbourne.” He leaned forward and met the younger man’s gaze. “And I have no intention of losing her again. She agreed to marry me once, and she will do so again.”
Josiah’s eyes narrowed. “You said she has not forgiven you.”
“She hasn’t, but she will eventually.” He settled back in his chair and smiled. “Her ultimate purpose is to gain her rightful inheritance and with that her independence. Whether or not she is successful remains to be seen. Regardless, my ultimate purpose is to win back her heart. And there is no question as to my success.”
“I see.” Josiah puffed his cigar thoughtfully. “At this point am I to graciously set aside my own intentions and allow you a clear field?”
Sterling grinned. “That would be most appreciated.”
“You are a very powerful man, my lord,” Josiah said slowly. “Your influence and patronage could make a significant difference in my future. I would be a fool to cross you.”
“Probably,” Sterling said coolly.
“However . . .” He met Sterling’s gaze directly. “I would be a bigger fool to give up Lady Rathbourne without a fight.”
“Don’t let your heart be broken in a game you cannot win.”
“I might give you the same advice, sir.”
“I like you, Josiah. For the most part you have a good head on your shoulders. One cannot fault you too much for letting your heart lead your head.” Sterling chuckled. “It happens to us all.”
“Even to you?”
“No, not to me, and therein lay the biggest mistake of my life.” He shook his head. “I did not listen to my heart when I should have, and I have paid for that. As has she. I shall not make that mistake again.”
Desires of a Perfect Lady Page 14