Chapter Ten

S terling was utterly miserable throughout the hunt. Usually, he was at home in the saddle, any worries melting away. Today, however, he could not concentrate on anything.

Because thoughts of Allegra swirled throughout him.

He had gone to breakfast as early as possible, hoping to avoid both her and her twin, and then remained in his bedchamber until just before it was time to leave for the hunt. He had gone downstairs, where he had run into Blankenship and Tillings and stopped to visit with them a moment, trying to play the role of an affable guest. Tillings had been waiting on Lord Lamkin, and Sterling agreed to remain with the pair, waiting for the earl.

That had been a mistake—because he had seen Allegra.

She had been wearing a gown of periwinkle, which made her eyes a rich shade of blue. The sweet curves he had caressed only the night before called out to his fingers. She had barely said a word, avoiding looking at him. He had not realized how hard it would be.

Why wasn't she like all the other women? Why could he not get her out of his mind? He was Sterling Ayles, the Earl of Carroll. He could have any woman in the whole of England.

But the one woman he wanted no longer wanted him.

Her head was full of fairy tales. Life did not guarantee a happily ever after. She believed in love, where he only believed in the pleasures of the flesh.

Yet Sterling knew he lied to himself. Because he suspected he did love her. Very much. And he was too afraid to tell her that he did.

He should leave the house party. Yes, that was the best action to take at this point. No sense in staying and prolonging his misery—and hers. He would leave first thing in the morning. In fact, he would leave the hunt now since he had no taste for it. Besides, every time he looked forward, he saw Caleb Strong, Allegra's brother. They favored one another far too much, especially with those Strong eyes. It irked him to no end.

The group slowed a bit, Strong raising his hand as they searched the area for their prey.

Not spying it, Strong said, "We should ride on."

Sterling took that opportunity to say, "I must return to the house, Mr. Strong. Please continue without me."

He gave no further explanation, merely nodding brusquely at the Shadowcrest steward before he wheeled his horse, riding away from the group and returning to the stables.

Once he left the woods, he galloped at full speed, wishing he could ride until his problems ceased. Never had he experienced heartache. He was a man who coupled with a lover and never became emotionally involved with her. This time, however, he had lost his heart.

Swinging from the saddle, he tossed the reins to a groom, and turned. Much to his surprise, he saw Blankenship also coming this way. He did not want to engage in conversation with anyone at present, least of all a man who had been a former friend and who seemed quite cozy with Miss Lyric Strong.

As he strode off, the viscount steered his horse toward Sterling, stopping mere feet from him. He dismounted.

"We must talk," Blankenship said crisply.

"We have nothing to discuss," he said flatly.

A pained expression crossed the viscount's face. "Then let me talk and you listen. I am in need of advice."

That surprised him, and he nodded. "Very well."

Blankenship rode the short distance to the stables, giving his horse over to a groom before returning to where Sterling stood.

"Would you walk with me?" asked the viscount. "This is not something I would wish to be overheard by guests or servants. The gardens are nearby. They would give us privacy. I suggest we go there."

Curiosity won out, and he agreed to accompany Blankenship to the gardens. Once they entered them, his old friend led them to a bench and sat.

Sterling took a seat. "What is this about?"

"I need your advice," Blankenship said. "You are, without a doubt, the last person I should turn to because of your rakehell ways, but I am desperate." He swallowed. "I have totally ruined my chances with Lyric. And I haven't a bloody clue how to win her back."

He stiffened. "What are you saying?"

Blankenship raked his fingers through his hair, his frustration obvious. "I am a fool. A coward. That is what Lyric accused me of being—and she was right."

The viscount braced his elbows on his knees, dropping his head into his hands.

Sterling kept quiet, keeping a tight rein on his own emotions, waiting for Blankenship to speak.

Finally, he lifted his head, and Sterling saw tears brimming in Blankenship's eyes.

"Good God, man. What is wrong?"

"We are two men cut from the same cloth, Carroll. From the little I know of your background, you had parents much as my own. Ones who practically abandoned us at birth. We had to find our own way—and we did so—becoming two of the most notorious rakes in all of London. I know I have hidden who I am from the world, my true self, because I have been confused about who I might be. My uncle's death greatly affected me, however. Uncle Oscar was the only one who ever showed me any kind of affection. I have never ever taken my responsibilities seriously, but I wanted to be a better man to prove to myself that his faith in me was not in vain."

Blankenship shook his head sadly. "That is why I went into last Season looking for a bride. I thought if I settled into marriage and produced my heir, it would be a start. Fate had other plans for me, though. Not a blessed woman appealed to me enough to offer marriage, and it was because I was meant to come to this house party at Shadowcrest and meet Lyric."

Understanding filled Sterling. "You love her," he said simply.

The viscount nodded. "Yes, I love her. And was fool enough not to be able to voice those sentiments to her."

He could not believe how much his own situation with Allegra paralleled that of Blankenship and Lyric Strong.

"What happened?" he prodded.

"We walked in these very gardens just last night," Blankenship said morosely. "I offered for her. I cannot begin to explain to you what it is like being with her. She is different from any woman I have ever known. Yet being the hard-headed idiot I am, I could not say the words she wanted to hear. Words I have never spoken to any woman."

Blankenship raked his hands through his hair again, his frustration growing. "I offered. She accepted. You would think all would be well in my world after that. But no, she went and told me that she loved me. And she does, Carroll. I saw the love for me shining in her eyes, and suddenly, I knew I was not worthy of such a creature."

Suspecting what had occurred, Sterling asked, "What did she say when you did not echo the same sentiment?"

"She is a Strong, through and through. She believes in the power of love because she has seen the incredible love matches her family members have made. Lyric took me to the woodshed, so to speak. And yet I still could not give her what she wanted."

Blankenship looked Sterling in the eyes. "Why? Why can't I say the words? Even if I muster the courage and do utter them, what if she will not take me back?"

It surprised him when tears misted his own eyes. He saw the quizzical look on his friend's face when he spotted them.

"Tell me, Carroll. What is going on with you and Miss Allegra?"

He laughed harshly. "The story you just poured to me, Blankenship? It mirrors ours in every way."

Sterling rose from the bench and began pacing. "I also offered for Allegra last night. It is magical being with her. I—unlike you—have not been searching for a wife. I had no idea why I was even invited to this house party until Mrs. Andrews pulled me aside and gave me a heart-to-heart talk. She told me that she believed there was more to me than what Polite Society saw. That a good man lay beneath the fa?ade the ton knew."

He stopped and gazed intently at Blankenship. "And I began to believe her. I began to believe in myself for the first time. The feelings that Allegra stirs within me are hard to put into words."

"Yes, I understand exactly what you mean."

"I offered for Allegra, and she, too, accepted. That is where our stories are identical, for she also spoke those words which I have never understood, much less wanted to speak myself."

"Did she take it badly?" asked Blankenship.

He smiled ruefully. "Allegra Strong is a fiery beauty, and she was having none of me not declaring my love for her. I was so confused, Blankenship. I do not even know if I could ever be faithful to one woman."

He began pacing again and stopped. "No, I am even lying right now to you. I do love her. I would never stray from her. But because I was too cowardly to voice aloud these strange, new feelings, I lost her. As you did Miss Lyric. You saw how frosty she was when she and her twin passed us in the foyer earlier. I have no hope of reclaiming her."

Plopping on the bench again, he sighed. They sat in silence, each lost in his own thoughts, mulling over their despair.

Finally, Sterling said, "I am going to leave Shadowcrest first thing in the morning. I have no reason to stay. I do not wish to make Allegra or anyone else uncomfortable."

He rose. "I wish you the best with Miss Lyric."

Blankenship shot to his feet. "Are you mad, man? From what you have told me, your feelings for Miss Allegra echo mine for Lyric. How can you walk away from the woman you love without even trying to see if she will forgive you?" He shook his head. "I sought advice from you, despite the fact you are a rake, only to learn that you are a sad, sad man. Go back to town, Carroll. Rut your way from one end to another. I guarantee you that no woman you couple with will make you forget Allegra Strong. No amount of drink will cause her memory to fade. You should be fighting for her—not walking away."

Sterling knew what the viscount said was true, and yet he was terrified of rejection.

"What are you going to do?" he countered. "Are you going to try and change Miss Lyric's mind?"

"It may be too late for that," the viscount admitted. "Lyric, though not as vocal as her sister, is even more stubborn than Miss Allegra ever could be. I have no idea what to do or how to persuade her that we are meant to be together. But I will stay at this house party until the end, trying to find a way. Even though, in my heart, I know I am not worthy of such a wonderful creature."

Blankenship strode off, leaving Sterling in the gardens. He thought of the lonely, empty life that would be ahead of him if he did not pursue Allegra.

But how could he make her understand that he did love her?

If he told her now—if he said those words—she would think he was merely giving her lip service. No, it would take some grand gesture in order to have a chance to make Allegra his once more.

Then it struck him. God only knew how many poems he had penned over the years. What he would now do is write the greatest love poem he could, pouring his heart and soul onto the page. He would gift Allegra the poem, hoping it would move her. That she would recognize the depth of his feelings.

With this plan in mind, Sterling returned to the house.