“Posy,” corrected Evie. “And she’s very clean.”
Sterling gave a jerk of his shoulder. “You don’t have to convince me, darling. It’s not my estate. What does our good friend Weston have to say about a sheep living in his house?”
As she turned to look at the pond, tension pulled her brows inward as if they were attached to tiny, invisible strings that automatically tightened whenever Weston’s name was mentioned. “I do not care what his opinion of Posy is, and he is not my friend, good or otherwise,” she said curtly.
“Well you can’t stopthere.” After giving her a playful nudge with his elbow, Sterling rested his forearms on the railing and joined her in gazing out at the water. “What has he done now? If you’ve an especially heinous grievance to report, I can call him out for you. Pistols at dawn and all that.”
If only it were that easy.
“While I appreciate your offer, I don’t think a bullet would solve this specific problem.”
“Maybe not. But surely it couldn’t hurt to see him writhing in temporary agony.”
Evie pursed her lips. “That’s true.”
“Alas, given my current reputation, I don’t know if I’d be able to get anyone to stand in as my second. Besides, any bullet I fired would probably just bounce right off all that icy armor Weston wears and strike me instead.” Sterling grimaced. “What if it hit this gorgeous face of mine? I’d be ruined.”
“And dead, most likely.”
“That, too.” He contemplated the pond for a moment. “I like you, Miss Thorncroft.”
“The feeling is mutual, Your Grace.”
“None of that ‘Your Grace’ business. Hanover if you must, and Sterling if you’d prefer. That’s what all of my closest acquaintances call me.” A boyish grin teased the left-hand corner of his mouth. “And plotting the murder of our host has almost definitely made us close acquaintances.”
“Sterling, then.” What a shame, she thought silently, that she’d met himafterWeston. Especially since the Duke of Hanover was everything that the Earl of Hawkridge was not. Amusing, charming, and kind.
She stole a peek at Sterling, willing herself to feel the same spark for him that she did for Weston. It didn’t even have to be a spark. Just a flicker, really. But much to her annoyance, there was nothing. The duke may have exhibited all of the behavior that she knew Weston was capable of if he’d just lower that damned guard of his, but hewasn’tWeston. Her traitorous heart, against the sound advice of her head, had made its choice. And now she had to live with the consequences.
“I believe I am going to return inside,” she told Sterling. “But I’d like to thank you for the company.”
“Happy to provide it.” His grin faded. His eyes grew serious. “I’ve a question to ask you, Miss Thorncroft.”
“Evie,” she said lightly. “Call me Evie.”
There might not have been a spark between them, but that did not mean she and Sterling couldn’t be friends. Shedidlike him. In an affable, companion sort of way. Although, given his inebriated state, there was a very good chance he wasn’t even going to remember that they’d even spoken come morning.
“Evie.” He pivoted away from the railing and took her hands in his. “Would you–is Evie short for something?”
“Evelyn,” she said, struggling not to giggle at the sheer absurdity of the situation. Standing outside on a terrace holding hands with a drunk duke whom she had no romantic interest in because she had gone and fallen in love with an earl who was incapable of love.
If shedidn’tlaugh, she feared she’d start to cry.
Again.
“Evelyn,” Sterling declared with great dramatic flair. “I–what was I saying?”
“You were about to ask me a question.”
“Ah, that’s right. Evelyn, sweet Evelyn…would you like to be my mistress?”
Evie stared. “Your mistress.”
“Indeed,” he said cheerfully. “As it so happens, the position has recently become available. I wasn’t looking to fill it straightaway, to be honest. But you’re you, and I’m me, and us pretty people need to stay together. In bed. Without clothes. Don’t you agree?”
For the second time in as many days, she found herself rendered utterly speechless. “I…I am incredibly flattered by your offer, but…but I have to decline. I am sorry.”
“Is it because my previous mistress died under nefarious circumstances?” he said glumly, dropping her hands.
