With those thoughts and his continuous need, Sterling rose for the day, dressed, then left the cottage in search of a very private place, which he found behind the mews with nothing around him except theback of the stable, vineyards to either side and mountains ahead. Secure that he was alone, and that it was early enough for a good portion of Stellenbosch to still slumber, he unfastened the placket on his trousers and took himself in hand. If anyone came upon him, he would simply make the excuse that he was relieving himself, just not in the manner another would assume.
*
While she couldhave slept better, at least Caroline got some when she had feared that she would get none.
However, she did wake with the sun, which was her habit. For the longest time, she laid there debating if she should get up and dress quickly before Sterling awoke or if she should lie there and wait until she was certain that he was gone. But as she was trying to decide, she heard movement on the other side of the blanket. If she had not been mistaken, Sterling was getting dressed and then moments later the door to the cottage opened and closed.
As soon as he was gone, Caroline scrambled from her bed and quickly withdrew a clean dress and shook it out. She then slipped out of the wrinkled one that she slept in and pulled the other one over her head and fastened the buttons. She then rolled on her stockings and put on her boots and waited.
She had not expected him to awaken so early. Then again, she did not know the habits of the Earl of Wyndham, or Sterling, as he wanted her to call him. It was still too intimate and she likely would not do so in front of others or they would assume something more had happened in the cottage last night than it did.
Her face heated at the very idea of anyone in Stellenbosch assuming that she and Sterling had been intimate.
The moments ticked by and he had not returned.
She had assumed that he might have gone outside to relievehimself, and she had a similar need and had noted the chamber pot in the corner but had thought it more important to change before he returned.
Except, she was also becoming uncomfortable and hoped that Sterling did not return before she finished making use of it.
He did not, and she waited a little longer before she finally gave up and left the cottage to step outside.
Where could he have gone?
Chapter Twenty-Four
After Sterling hadtaken care of matters uninterrupted, he returned to the cottage only to find Caroline outside. Few residents were out yet.
“Do you always wake this early?” he asked once her reached her side.
“Yes,” she answered brightly. “Do you?”
“No,” he grumbled.
“Did you not sleep well?” she asked with concern.
“I had difficulty getting comfortable.” Let Caroline think it was the bed and not thoughts of her.
“What do you suppose we do now?” she asked.
“We could walk,” he suggested. “I would like to see how much Stellenbosch has changed since I was last here.”
Eventually they would return to the home of his great-aunt because she had promised to provide meals, but he wasn’t ready to go there yet. It was likely too early to knock on their door. He also wanted to be alone with Caroline.
They walked in silence along oak-lined streets protecting whitewashed cottages then past the farmhouses with the Dutch gables and finally came to the fields of grapevines where workers were just beginning their day. The town was nearly twice the size it had been when he had visited as a child.
A peacefulness had settled around Sterling that he had not experiencedin a very long time. It was the quiet. It was not having to make any decisions. It was not having to worry about Trade Wynd or the earldom. And it was because Caroline was by his side, with no need to fill the silence, but just be.
Maybe his mother was right in that he truly needed a holiday. But tomorrow they would return to Wyndview Farm where he hoped to take part in the harvest, learn the answers to his questions, and then he would sail for Madeira.
Sterling glanced down at Caroline, who stared out over the valley. His only regret in leaving so soon was that he would not have a chance to come to know her better.
He returned his gaze to the horizon. Besides grapes, there were also rows of corn further out, which did remind him of one question. “We grow wheat, barley, rye, and oats. Have we grown corn?”
“A letter has gone to Lord Avery to ask his opinion and the benefits and value of such a crop.”
“Why not me?” he asked.
Her face started to pinken. “I suppose the letter should have gone to you. It is just that…”
