He looked at Ferguson, who was standing nearby. "Is the supper ready?" he asked. "Of course, sir," he answered. "It is awaiting you in the upstairs sitting room." Alaric nodded. "I took the liberty of asking Cook to prepare a small supper for us to enjoy after the ball. Come along." He seized Rowena's elbow and hurried her up the stairs to the sitting room. Rowena looked around, momentarily charmed. A fire was lit in the grate and candles burned brightly in the wall sconces, illuminating the charmingly furnished room. A table sat near the fire, covered with brilliant white linens and sparkling silver and crystal, and an elegant dinner was spread out and waiting for them. She drew in a tiny breath of surprise. "Alaric, why did you do this? I thought..." Alaric frowned at her. "I meant to discuss with you calmly exactly how we would conduct our marriage. Believe it or not, I am unhappy as you are with the situation we find ourselves in, and wished to come to some sort of an understanding in which we could at least live with one another comfortably.
