Sophy hastily summoned up a welcoming smile and tugged her hand from Julian's
grasp. "Not at all, Harry. I was worried about the two you."
"Oh, nothing to fret about," Harriett assured her, sitting down with a sigh of
relief. "All my fault, I'm afraid. My rheumatism was acting up earlier this
afternoon and I discovered I had run out of my special tonic. Dear Fanny
insisted on sending out for more and as a consequence we were late dressing for
the theater. How is the performance? Is Catalani in good form?"
"I hear she dumped a chamber pot over her lover's head just prior to the first
act," Sophy said promptly.
"Then she is probably giving a rousing performance." Fanny chuckled. "It is
common knowledge that she is at her best when she is quarreling with one of her
paramours. Gives her work spirit and zest."
Julian eyed Sophy's outwardly composed face. "The more interesting scene is the
one taking place here in this box, Aunt Fanny, and you and Harry are the cause."
"Highly unlikely," Fanny murmured. "We never get involved in scenes, do we,
Harry?"
"Gracious, no. Most unseemly."
"Enough," Julian snapped. "I have just discovered that you are studying the
Featherstone Memoirs in your Wednesday afternoon salons. What the devil happened
to Shakespeare and Aristotle?"
"They're dead," Harriett pointed out.
Fanny ignored Sophy's muffled giggle and waved a hand with languid grace.
"Surely, Julian, as a reasonably well-educated man, yourself, you must know how
wide ranging an intelligent person's interests are. And everyone in my little
club is very intelligent. There must be no fetters placed on the never-ending
quest for enlightenment."
"Fanny, I am warning you, I do not want Sophy exposed to that sort of nonsense."
"It's too late," Sophy interjected. "I have already been exposed."
He turned to her with a grim look. "Then we must attempt to limit the ill
effects. You will not read any more of the installments. I forbid it." He rose
to his feet. "Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I believe I will go and see
what is keeping Miles. I shall return shortly."
"Run along, Julian," Fanny murmured encouragingly. "We will be fine."
"No doubt," he agreed coldly. "Do try to keep Sophy from falling out of the box
in her attempt to get a closer look at Charlotte Featherstone, will you?"
He nodded once, gave Sophy a last stony-eyed glare and stalked from the box.
Sophy sighed as the curtain fell into place behind him.
"He is very good with exit lines, is he not?" she noted.
"All men are good at exit lines," Harriett said as she removed her opera glass
from her beaded reticule. "They use them so frequently, you know. It seems they
are always walking out. Off to school, off to war, off to their clubs, or off to
their mistresses."
Sophy considered that briefly. "I'd say it was not so much a case of walking out
as it is of running away."
"An excellent observation," Fanny said cheerfully. "How very right you are, my
dear. What we just witnessed was definitely a strategic retreat. Julian probably
learned such tactics under Wellington. I see you are learning the business of
being a wife very rapidly."
Sophy grimaced. "I do hope you will not pay any regard to Julian's efforts to
dictate our reading selections on Wednesday afternoons."
"My dear girl, do not concern yourself with such trivia," Fanny said airily. "Of
course we will not pay Julian any mind. Men are so limited in their notions of
what women should do, are they not?"
"Julian is a good man, as men go, Sophy, but he does have his blind spots,"
Harriett said as she raised the small binoculars to her eyes and peered through
them. "Of course, one can hardly blame him after what he went through with his
first Countess. Then, too, I'm afraid his experiences in battle tended to
reinforce a rather sober outlook on life in general. Julian has a strongly
developed sense of duty, you know and… ah, ha. There she is."
"Who?" Sophy demanded, her mind distracted by thoughts of Elizabeth and the
effects of war on a man.
"The Grand Featherstone. She is wearing green tonight, I see. And the diamond
and ruby necklace Ashford gave her."
"Really? How marvelously outrageous of her to wear it after the things she wrote
about him in the second installment of the Memoirs. Lady Ashford must be livid."
Fanny promptly dug out her own opera glasses and focused quickly.
"May I borrow your opera glasses?" Sophy asked Harriett. "I did not think to
purchase some."
"Certainly. We'll shop for glasses for you this week. One simply cannot come to
the opera without them." Harriett smiled her serene smile. "So much to see here.
One would not want to miss anything."
"Yes," Sophy agreed as she focused the small glasses on the stunning woman in
green. "So much to see. You are quite right about the necklace. It is
spectacular. One can understand why a wife might complain if she discovered her
husband was giving his mistress such baubles."
"Especially when the wife is obliged to make do on jewelry of far less quality,"
Fanny said musingly, her eyes on the simple pendant that graced Sophy's throat.
"I wonder why Julian has not yet given you the Ravenwood emeralds?"
"I have no need of the emeralds." Sophy, still watching Charlotte Featherstone's
box, saw a familiar pale-haired man enter. She recognized Lord Waycott at once.
Charlotte turned to greet him with a graceful gesture of her beringed hand.
Waycott bowed over the glittering fingers with elegant aplomb.
"If you ask me," Harriett said conversationally to Fanny, "your nephew probably
saw entirely too much of the Ravenwood emeralds on his first wife."
"Um, you may be right, Harry. Elizabeth caused him nothing but grief whenever
she wore those emeralds. It could be that Julian does not wish to see those
particular stones on any woman again. The sight would undoubtedly remind him
quite painfully of Elizabeth."
Sophy wondered if that was the real reason Julian had not yet given her the
Ravenwood family gems. It seemed to her there might be other, less-flattering,
reasons.
It took a woman of poise, stature, and polish to wear fine jewels, especially
dramatic stones such as emeralds. Julian might not think his new wife had enough
presence to carry off the Ravenwood jewels. Or he might not think her pretty
enough for them.
But last night, she reflected wistfully, for a short while in the intimacy of
her bedchamber, Julian had made her feel very beautiful, indeed.
Sophy neither complained nor asked for explanations much later that evening when
Julian escorted her home and then announced he was going off to spend an hour or
two at one of his clubs. Julian wondered at her lack of protest as he lounged
moodily in the carriage while his driver picked a way through the dark streets.
Didn't Sophy care how he spent the remainder of the evening or was she just
grateful he was not going to invade her bedchamber a second time?
Julian had not originally planned to go on to a club after the opera. He had
fully intended to take Sophy home and then spend the rest of the night teaching
her the pleasures of the marriage bed. He had passed a good portion of the day
plotting exactly how he would go about the task. This time, he had vowed, he
would make it right for her.
He had envisioned himself undressing her slowly, kissing every inch of her
softness as he brought her to a state of perfect readiness. This time he would
not lose his self-control at the last minute and plunge wildly into her. This
time he would go slowly and make certain she learned that the pleasure could be
shared equally between them.
Julian was well aware that he had lost his head at a critical juncture the
previous evening. It was not his customary style. He had gone into Sophy's
bedchamber certain that he was in control, convinced that he really was only
going to make love to her for her own good.
But the real truth was that he had wanted her so much, had been wanting her for
so long, that by the time he had finally lost himself in her tight, welcoming
body, he'd had no reserves of self-control on which to draw. Apparently he had
used up those reserves during the previous week when he'd struggled to keep his
hands off her.
The memory of his driving desire as he had finally buried himself in her silken
sheath was enough to harden his body all over again. Julian shook his head,
dazed at the realization of how the whole situation had escalated into something
far larger and more ungovernable than he had ever anticipated. He wondered again
how he had allowed himself to become so obsessed with Sophy.
There was no point attempting to analyze it, he finally decided as the carriage
halted in front of his club. The important thing was to make certain the
obsession did not take full control of him. He must manage it and that meant
managing Sophy. He must keep a firm hand on the reins for both their sakes. His
second marriage was not going to go the way of his first. Not only that, but
Sophy needed his protection. She was much too naive and trusting.
But as he walked into the warm sanctuary of his club it seemed to Julian he
could almost hear distant echoes of Elizabeth's mocking laughter.
"Ravenwood.' Miles Thurgood looked up from where he was sitting near the fire
and grinned cheerfully. "Didn't expect you to show up here tonight. Have a seat
and a glass of port."
"Thank you, " Julian lowered himself into a nearby chair. "Any man who has sat
through an opera needs a glass of port."
"Just what I said, myself, a few minutes ago. Although I must say, tonight's
spectacle was more entertaining than usual what with the Grand Featherstone
putting in an appearance."
"Don't remind me."
Miles chuckled. "Watching you trying to clamp the lid on your wife's interest in
the subject of Featherstone was the most amusing part of all, of course. Expect
you failed miserably to distract her, eh? Women always get riveted on the one
thing you wish they would ignore."
"Hardly surprising, what with you deliberately encouraging her," Julian
muttered, pouring himself a glass of port.
"Be reasonable, Ravenwood. Everyone in town is talking about the Memoirs. You
can't really expect Lady Ravenwood to ignore them."
"I can and do expect to guide my wife in her choice of literature," Julian said
coldly.
"Come now, be honest," Miles urged with the familiarity of an old friend. "Your
concern is not with her literary tastes, is it? You're just afraid that sooner
or later she'll come across your name in those Memoirs."
"My involvement with Featherstone is no concern of my wife's."
"A fine sentiment and one I'm certain is echoed by every man hiding out here
tonight," Miles assured him. Then his good natured expression sobered abruptly.
"Speaking of those present this evening—"
Julian looked at him. "Yes?"
Miles cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "Thought you ought to know
Waycott's in the gaming room."
Julian's hand tightened on his glass but his tone remained cool. "Is he? How
interesting. He does not generally patronize this club."
"True. But he does have a membership, you know. Tonight, it appears, he has
decided to make use of it." Miles leaned forward, "You should know he's offering
to take wagers."
"Is he, indeed?"
Miles cleared his throat. "Wagers regarding you and the Ravenwood emeralds."
A cold fist clutched at Julian's insides. "What sort of wager?"
"He is betting that you will not give Sophy the Ravenwood emeralds before the
year is out," Miles said. "You know what he's implying, Julian. He's as good as
announcing to everyone that your new wife cannot take the place of Elizabeth in
your life. If Lady Ravenwood hears about this, she will be crushed."
"Then we must endeavor to make certain she does not hear about it. I know I can
depend upon you to keep silent, Thurgood."
"Yes, of course. This is hardly a quizzing matter like the business of
Featherstone, but you must realize any number of people are likely to hear of it
and you can't possibly keep them all quiet. Perhaps it would be simplest if you
just made certain Lady Ravenwood wears the jewels soon in public. That way—"
Miles broke off, alarmed, as Julian got to his feet. "What do you think you're
doing?"
"I thought I would see what sort of play is going on at the tables tonight,"
Julian said as he walked toward the door to the gaming room.
"But you rarely play. Why should you want to go into the gaming room? Wait!"
Miles shot to his feet and trotted after him. "Really, Julian, I think it would
be much better if you did not go in there tonight."
Julian ignored him. He strolled into the crowded room and stood looking
negligently around until he spotted his quarry. Waycott, who had just won at
hazard, glanced around at that moment and his gaze alighted on Julian. He smiled
slowly and waited.
Julian was aware that everyone else in the room was holding his breath. He knew
Miles was hovering somewhere nearby and out of the corner of his eye he spotted